Its been three days. Three days since the incident. And three days of the contents of the King’s letter continuing to reel in my head.
When Nick left me that day, I remembered what the king had given to me and, what was sitting securely in my pocket. I had fished it out quickly and opened the worn-out paper, easily recognizing grandfather’s handwriting.
King Blake,
I have no right to be sending this letter to you and perhaps you might choose not to read this but there’s no one else I can tell about the darkness eating up my soul bit by bit. I’m going to be very plain. I hated your kind since I was a kid after seeing what they did to humans but I hated them even more after they killed my son. Especially the Fordsons. But I would never murder a whole family, much less, innocent ones like
