The hand around his neck relaxed, drew away. Involuntarily, Bidithal drew in an agonizing breath and made to scream— Something soft and bloody was pushed into his mouth. ‘For you, Bidithal. For every nameless girl-child you destroyed. Here. Choke on your pleasure.’ And choke he did. Until Hood’s Gate yawned— And there, gathered by the Lord of Death, waited demons who were of like nature to Bidithal himself, gleefully closing about their new victim. A lifetime of vicious pleasure. An eternity of pain in answer. For even Hood understood the necessity for balance.
