The Mystic Retribution

troy everything in her room while yelling aloud. Mr. Benedict Greystone could do little or nothing about it as she made sure to bolt the door before beginning. "Please, open

l person. The Greystone mansion shined in the predawn darkness, its grandeur masked by the shroud of night. Inside, the air is heavy with tension, the silence

rand interior, avoiding any creaking floorboards that might betray his presence. He ascends the stai

ase washes over him. The hair on the back of his neck prickles

luminating the room in a harsh glare. And there, seated in the shad

ression unreadable as he regards his son with a mixture of scrutiny and disdain. His presence

s himself for whatever confrontation may come, knowing that he must tread ca

in with a cold and com

e meets his father's steely gaze. The tensio

reystone's expression remains straight as he regards his s

w enjoy sneaking around like a thief in the night?" Astrid swallowed h

, "I... I just wanted to... check on som

ception. Mr. Greystone replied skeptically, "Is that so? And what exactly were you checking on, p

side. I wanted to make sure everything was alright. Mr. Greystone's gaze re

you nitwit?" Mr. Greystone exclaimed, his angry expression written all over his face. Astrid found him

stial Reliquary you took before you left the house?" Mr. Greystone enquired. "Dad, I d

you set that poor child up. This time, I won't be as gracious as I was because I don't show mercy twice in twelve hours, even to my own blood. So, choose your ne

cided to come clean and hand the family heirloom back to his father. However, on touching his neck,

did not sell the Celestial Reliquary. It must have fallen down some

nd of gunshot reverberated through the intense atmosphere and a lo