Prologue

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They hadn't expected us to find out the truth.

That was apparent from the look of pure loss and fear that seemed to fill them; what they were afraid of I could not tell you. Perhaps it was the body that was currently in the morgue. Perhaps it was the bloodied sword that was currently with the forensics team. Perhaps it was the detective who stood before us. There were many reasons to be filled with terror when so much had happened.

We all looked a mess. From tattered, bloodied clothes, to wet hair and tired, drained eyes. Our hands held tightly as if the mere thought of letting go would only end in disaster - a disaster which had surely already come.

None of us had much in common. Although, if love is to be a thing held in common, then I suppose we had that in common. Grief, too.

They weren't the only ones afraid. We all were, each and every one of us who were fighting our own battles (using the guidance and help of each other thankfully otherwise I do believe it could have been us who had died this night) was waiting for the moment when we had to risk our lives again, and again, and again.

We actually found out about the truth a long time ago (a couple of years ago in fact) and we got confident in our abilities. Like Icarus, we flew too close to the sun and now someone was dead. A young person, and you could say it was our fault. Maybe we'll know for next time that our waxen wings aren't strong enough to fight these cruel segments of truth and yet, we won't learn. You never do. Not with these type of things.

The thing about lies is that it only breeds more lies. We had all been deceived and now we were going to continue the tradition and become the deceivers. In short: I felt my existence was tainted, in some subtle but essential way. A way that was going to ruin not only myself but everyone else around us and we're going to be left running from not only the lies we were told but the ones we were about to tell.

A tragedy in itself.

"Can you remember anything else? Anything else? Isaac...?" The Inspector asked as he looked between our shaken selves.

"I'm sorry... It just happened so fast..."

It didn't happen fast at all, but instead so painfully slowly that it was like molten lava creeping over to you until there was nothing but ashes let. "Nothing ever good came from lies" those words could have been printed across our faces and yet it is unlikely we'd ever consider the warning. It's too late. The damage had already been done. We'd already been consumed.

I suppose it would be easier If we began from the start.

Into The Truth [Isaac Lahey]Where stories live. Discover now