Masquerade [Kuskovo Estate]

[Raffe]

Darkness that was going to chase Kristian in his sleep. Darkness that would swallow him whole. The music only drilled it in, touched someplace deeper than words reached alone. Raffe listened without expression, not sure he could artifice one that would not simply crack over his skin and crumble. Holding together all the strings of his composure suddenly seemed pointless. He said nothing. Felt nothing but a siren’s call of despair. What was there to say? If even his pretence at normality failed him, what was left but the fall?

He was vaguely aware of the others talking. But he was thinking about the boy he’d beaten at the orphanage; beaten bloody long after he’d made his point, because he’d been seduced by the thrill of madness in it. He’d been something to fear, and he’d hated the way the other kids looked at him. His father’s son. But maybe that darkness had always been there.