On the day I got out of prison, I caught my wife and brother-in-law entwined in the living room.
“The child is his. You’re just a fool who took the fall for us,” my wife sneered, stroking her pregnant belly.
My brother-in-law grabbed a bronze cauldron and smashed it into my head. “This piece of trash should have been dealt with ages ago.”
As I tumbled down the stairs, I heard my skull crack.
Blood soaked the shards of bronze, and a thousand years of baleful energy surged into my eyes.
When I opened them again, the world had changed. A deathly aura coiled around the baby in my wife’s belly, and the auction documents in my brother-in-law’s pocket labeled an item “fake.”
I licked the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed.
The real show was only just beginning.
