Kiara looked up at him, eyes seeming dead. “Then why is it that her scent is all over you?”

Her hands fell from behind her back and before Zique could see it coming, pain invaded his side. His eyes searched for the cause of his pain, finding a knife etched into his flesh by her hand. “K-Kiara...?”

She twisted the knife and Zique groaned falling to his knees. “This was what I should’ve done from the beginning. This was what you deserved.”

The knife was pulled out of him and Zique watched completely helpless as the woman he loved shoved it in opposite side of the previous stab. This wasn’t Kiara, it couldn’t be...this was his mother...!

Pain; that was probably the only thing he could feel and the memories that had haunted him for years flashed before his eyes as he fell back against the tiles on the floor, coughing up blood. This was a bad dream, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t going to die just like his father did, was he?

But he was, the ache in his sides had him accepting this truth as reality.