Keith imagined himself into a castle, a sword in his hand, fighting. His masked opponent wielded a surgically sharp blade that came ever nearer to Keith. Keith’s brother, Stephen, was trying to get away but was hampered by his injury.
The swordsman pressed his attack, laughing behind his mask. “You cannot hold me off, and you cannot possibly escape my steel.” He made good his words; the sword pierced Keith’s abdomen and opened the flesh from front to back. “And your brother is next.”