Twigs snap underfoot of not one, but two witnesses. The sun cannot reach nor illumine the macabre dealings being executed under the tainted woods’ canopy. Rich, dark blood drips down the rusted teeth of a saw held by soiled hands. Cold, lifeless eyes do not rest in peace under the sweet veil of closed lids. No, they are stranded open. There is no hand of mercy beside them. It is a blessing they can no longer see because of what will happen next…

***

It was mid afternoon the day after ...