‘The world is filled with dark places, which makes it hard at times to see the light; and with its intangible nature, leaving only disparities in its wake, one can only hope of surviving through the darkness, making it to the other side unscathed.’
Gottlieb Ellsworth replays these words in his head, laying alone in his prison on the murky surface of the hard floor, feeling partially at peace with finally revealing his story to someone, even if that person did not believe him.
Gottlieb shortly afterward wonders if the sun had risen: when two Callaghan’s Kingsman name Pierce and Vincent appear in the doorway. Pierce approaches him, asking Gottlieb repeatedly to tell him his name. He peeks over his shoulder to a surly Vincent, standing outside the door.
“What’s taking so long?”
“The prisoner won’t give me his name.”
“Force it out of him. Before someone comes.”
Pierce turns his head back to the prisoner. “I’m not going to ask you again,” he said in a more aggressive tone. “What is your name?”
Gottlieb lifts his sluggish head to the one barking at him and then rolls onto his side with his face, facing the wall.
“Enough with the pleasantry,” Vincent growls and without thinking, advances forward.
Pierce instantly points to a wall, reminding his brethren about the Veineas stone that are glimmering exquisitely like glistening stars, due to the candlelight, seeping in from the open door.
Vincent immediately stepped backward, knowing all too well the severe and mental anguish a
Gottlieb Ellsworth replays these words in his head, laying alone in his prison on the murky surface of the hard floor, feeling partially at peace with finally revealing his story to someone, even if that person did not believe him.
Gottlieb shortly afterward wonders if the sun had risen: when two Callaghan’s Kingsman name Pierce and Vincent appear in the doorway. Pierce approaches him, asking Gottlieb repeatedly to tell him his name. He peeks over his shoulder to a surly Vincent, standing outside the door.
“What’s taking so long?”
“The prisoner won’t give me his name.”
“Force it out of him. Before someone comes.”
Pierce turns his head back to the prisoner. “I’m not going to ask you again,” he said in a more aggressive tone. “What is your name?”
Gottlieb lifts his sluggish head to the one barking at him and then rolls onto his side with his face, facing the wall.
“Enough with the pleasantry,” Vincent growls and without thinking, advances forward.
Pierce instantly points to a wall, reminding his brethren about the Veineas stone that are glimmering exquisitely like glistening stars, due to the candlelight, seeping in from the open door.
Vincent immediately stepped backward, knowing all too well the severe and mental anguish a