AWOKEN

Connor: (tipsily) What's not fair is that I'm not living life like that Queen Victoria fella. Liam: My goodness Connor you shouldn't of drank so much. Your lucky it's setting in now, imagine if it was coming when you were fighting that drunk guy, that would be a disaster. Connor: (drunk): It's ok, I’m a beast whether or not I’m drunk. I don't need anyone to look after me when after all I’m a fully grown man (slowly falling down). Liam: (laughing) Looks like the grown man needs to be taken home. C’mon, get yourself together big man, you have your first day tomorrow. Let's go! Connor: (still drunk) But every day’s a big day! Even with Connor being absolutely intoxicated, they arrived home safely even in the heart of the rough and dangerous hoodlum. The flat looked shanty and decrepit as the roof seemed to be slipping off from its flimsy base. The floor was damp and sticky as the air was ridden with dirt all kinds of mucky substances. You could hear the sounds of people fighting, loudly weeping and shrilly moaning all at once through the three thin-looking walls whilst the noise of robbery and all kinds of destructive crimes were rampantly persisting in the distance. The chimneys stank of dirty, unleaded coal as the only ones able to clean them were infants; quite impressionable sweepers. All though the place was anything but ideal, Connor in his tipsy state did not care the place was virtually in shambles, lacking the slightly more pristine conditions he enjoyed back in Ireland. Liam and Connor made their way through the tall, squeaky wooden door and into the shaky home, held by alarmingly soft foundations. Liam: (annoyed) Oh gosh, they haven't got hot water today! Connor: Who cares about hot water? All I need is a bed! Liam: You won't have a bed if I don't put you into one. Connor: Who said I need you to put me into bed? (yawning) I might as well just nap here.

Liam: Oh, Connor! Don't be silly there’s a couch right there. Connor: But it’s too far away how can I get to it! Liam: It’s a few steps away. C’mon, go sleep on it. Connor: (demandingly) No, it's too far. Pick me up! Liam: (under his breath) You have to be kidding me. Reluctantly, Liam picked up Connor like a mother holding a small child. With his impeccable strength and Connors's grisly weight, his knees shivered about as he barely managed to plop him onto the naily yet homely bed. Connor rested like a bird on a soft nest as all his troubles and nightly tumult ceased under the spell of dreamful imagination. Liam though, sobered and sedated to the rough reality of the world around him still couldn't sleep because he was rigidly fixed in a state of ceaseless stress and hesitation. He didn’t see a future for himself, but only a stationary life of hectic work and inescapable mortality; causing him many sleepless and tormented nights of painful nostalgia. His family had perished while trying to make the perilous voyage to England, the same one he had done plenty of times beforehand without a hick. Unfortunately, their lungs filled with water as they perished under the daring, dense sea. Every night he cried himself into a reluctant slumber, as he saw his family’s ghosts wailing awfully, pleading desperately for him to help them, yet he could do absolutely nothing but watch them die and sink to the bottom of the sea; rotting without a drop of peace in their panicked hearts. Liam (thinking to himself): If there be a better fate for me, why has it not been revealed? Why has Light chosen to leave me alone and unanswered, scarred by the malaised memories of my family's death and slack closure. I worry for the souls of my big-hearted mother, my fond father and my gentle yet clueless sister, all dead without reason for their sudden doom. As I continue to breathe and witness the despair and drama of everyday life, they rest in the ocean’s casket without a proper place for their harried corpses to rest. They simply float in obscurity with no means for joy or laughter. They carry no longer the human qualities of love or happiness as they have left this planet far too early; eradicated into the still confinement of death’s cheerless chasm and forgotten entirely. Shall they ever feel my grief or sorrow, or the awe of gladness for even a split moment? The delight of life and the gripping bliss of neighbours any longer. No! they cannot and now their decayed corpses lie submerged in the crests of the big, blue sea; alone and

hopeless with their voices tied to the vacuum of seawater. They were like firey candles blown out with a hurried and heavy puff, gone with their stories silenced forever. While criminals die in dignified prisons, thieves and adulterers live on merrily until they speak their final breath, my family has left this life almost punished for being born into poverty; virtually executed by the merciless waves while sinking on that cheap ship of tin, and for that reason, I cannot rest. If it was not for legacy I would allow myself to drop dead shamelessly, but in their honour I shall live to continue their precious name and then I shall join them up above, where I’ll be in perfect peace, with my family who succumbed to a terrible and agonizing death. Liam after that harrowing mentation grudgingly dozed off into his torturous dreams; still bothered and irked by his family’s passing. He did not shed a single tear even as the glum weather poured a river of words into his head as the vistas of recurring trauma kicked in like a horse’s sole pressed into a girl’s fragile thigh. Regardless, Liam did his best to put off those thoughts and finally went to sleep, even with the pensive past still lingering. Though Connor, who was still snoring without a hick did not miss a moment of rest as he giddily counted the babbling sheep jump over white, picket fences. CHAPTER 3 - The night had passed and all its seethe had been exhausted. Now, a new morning of hope and appraisal had fallen on this nation which barbarously weaponized formidable armies to poach kingdoms far and wide on all corners of this large planet; coercing them into dastardly submission. But for Connor, still fooled by the credible deceit of meritocracy and the weightless saying ‘all men are made equal’, believed that this morning would be the one where his life would change for the better. No drive though could change this world and everything in it is as it seemed to be made for those who sat at the top of the pyramid, who ruled the dirty world of business. And now the nation that led conquests of catastrophic scale, with subjugation of unworldly magnitude to men who didn’t even know of their presence on this planet now employed Connor, a boy naive to the

ruthlessness of the factory realm. The morning bell rang in the slums to wake up the disgruntled men lying fast asleep in their sallow beds, beginning the start of many troubles. Liam: (loudly) Wake up Connor! We have to get to work, it's our first day on the job! Connor: (tired) Why this early Liam? Can’t you just let me rest for a bit I'm kind of tired after all the hassle I went through yesterday. That lady broke my heart! Liam: (laughing) I told you she’d be nothing but trouble! But no, you didn’t wanna listen to me, did you? Besides, you and her didn't really have a chance did yah? I don't know why you were even after her in the first place! Connor: I didn’t go after her - she was the one who came onto me! Liam: (sceptical) I don’t believe that for a second! How could such a pretty girl want a boy like you? Connor: (under his breath) Not this again. (calmly) Well, I was fighting that drunk guy and she thought I was fighting for her. And even though I most definitely would throw hands for that lady I wasn’t fighting for her at all. It's just that drunk chap was too much of a nuisance and I wasn’t having it so I just gave him a little bit of my Irish knuckle. Liam: Classic! I still don't believe that she would go after you though. Connor: No, No trust me she did! She came onto me and brung her furred fingers around my neck and pushed my hand onto her chest. It was real intense and I was so into it but I just couldn't get myself to go any further. I felt as if the sight of God was intently watching over me and I couldn't do unholy things in his sight. Liam: (pauses for a bit) Either way, you blew your chance mate! She’s absolutely gorgeous. If I was you I would’ve done her so bad that she’d find it hard to walk. She's just too good not to get with you and you still screwed it up man, thats tragic! Connor: Oh whatever! I wasn't much of a fan of her lustful antics anyway. I wanna save myself for a woman that can really appreciate me and doesn't want me for just my body.

Liam: That’s what they all say. If you really wanted to save yourself for a good girl you should’ve stopped saving yourself right there and then. Sure, she’s nothing sweet but you have to admit she’d be good enough in bed and that's a good girl if you ask me! Connor: (laughing) Ok, Liam enough of this silly talk. We need to get dressed or else we’ll be late! Liam: (sarcastically) Oh I know. It's gonna be such a blast. Connor: (happily) Hell yeah it will! Connor and Liam both wore their best attire hoping for high standards and conduct. They left their shack of a flat and entered the bullied streets they shamefully called home. Connor: Is this what Whitechapel looks like? I thought it was much prettier. Liam: Well you have to deal with what you got. Connor: (disgusted) Yeah, not ungrateful or anything but y’know this place is just a little too much for me. I mean look at this place, there’s feces on the ground and the stores look sad and gloomy. Hell, even the wood looks sad, and all the trees I’ve seen looked happy. This just won’t do it. Liam: (jokingly) Oh well you should go back to Ireland if this isn't better than the famine mate. Connor: (jokingly) I might actually. Do you know where the nearest ferry to Belfast is cause I’m getting out of here. Liam: It's in the fecking ocean. Go swim there you poor boy! Anyway, we need to go to our job now, can’t be late on the first day, can we? Connor: Yeah, hurry it's almost 8! Connor and Liam both dashed like thunder zipping from angry clouds as they ran with the little energy they had to the booming factory ticking with all kinds of products. They

looked around and found where they were supposed to be helping at and got to work with their eager hands. Connor: Good morning guys! How are we doing today? Worker: Shut the fuck up you twat! Liam: Hey Connor, don't ask them how they’re doing. No one is doing fine here. Connor: (surprised) How can’t you, this is such a nice place to be! Worker: (annoyed) If it's such a nice place you smelly fella why don’t you marry it fucker? Connor: (angry) I will marry it if you don't pipe down you sad fuck! Worker: What did you say to me you Irish punk? Connor: I said you're a sad fu- Connor was about to utter the foulest profanities his holy mouth could handle until a strong, valiant man interveined in their scuffle. He went by the name of Jeff and came all the way from the collected lands of Scotland. Like the lady of the dreams he gazed at dancing splendidly the electric night before, he possessed sharp and wild eyes, yet hair so golden that sandy beaches were pale in comparison. He was tall and fit and his muscles pressed through his industrial outfit. His face glowed like canister oil and his voice sounded peachy and pure. His tongue lept from one word to another like butterflies to sweet nectar. Even as Connor only had eyes for damsels something struck him as if he had been spelt by forbidden feelings. Jeff: (strongly) Enough with the bickering you too. If this keeps up they’re gonna have to call the manager to break us up and you know that always ends with one of you chaps or all of us getting fired. Do you want that! Worker: No, No, clearly not. I'm sorry Jeff, I promise it won't happen again, right small guy?

Liam: (on Connors's behalf) Who are you calling a small guy you tiny- Connor: (frozen) Yea I understand! Got it Got it! Jeff: (friendly tone) Ok, then let's get back to work! Don't want to get the boss in a bad mood cause he’s been considering handing us a bonus, doesn't that sound mad boys! Worker: It sure as hell does! Guys let's get back to work, I need the extra few pounds on my paycheck this month. Connor: (energetically) Yeah let's get to it! Connor, Liam, Jeff and all the other workers got back to work until their tired fingers started to sore. At that point, hours had transpired and all tension simmered down to friendly, positive vibes, as a sort of brotherly communion filled the slightly tense atmosphere; with wide smiles and content arms ready to work making the place a little more bearable. After they were let to out for break, Connor grabbed his freshly made ham sandwich right out of his pocket. Knowing that this type of dish was expensive and hard to come around in these parts, he tried to eat it discreetly, but the strong and pungent odour radiating from the piece of meat did nothing to stop prying noses from smelling what they shouldn’t. Worker: Hey, give me that sandwich. Connor: No? Why would I give you something that I worked so hard to buy? Worker: Oh shut up about your ‘hard work’ you deadbeat fuck. I bet it's your little sissy Liam that bought that sandwich for you, didn’t he? Connor: (irritated) Can you leave me alone please? I'm just trying to enjoy my sandwich. Worker: (mockingly) ‘I'm just trying to enjoy my sandwich.’ Yea keep on waffling as if you don't have more shit to spit out of your stupid mouth. (forcefully) Give me the fucking sandwich or you'll be sorry. Connor: (quietly) Is this guy out of his mind? How did he get a job here?

Worker: What did you say about me little hot stuff? If I lay my hands on you I'll make you regret ever opening that mouth of yours! Connor: (strongly) Oh well then make me! I'm not scared of no jackass like you! Worker: You fucking moron! The worker brang out a knife and was ready to stab him like a lamb ready for slaughter. His eyes grew red as his heavy, concentrated breaths turned to that of a murderer drenched with fury. His fingers dilated as he readied himself to kill and his feet tussled down into the ground as if he is going to horn him like a savage bull. He clamped his thighs and tightened his grip as he swung the knife right at Connor. Connor, forgoing his pride realized the mistake just in time as natural instinct kicked in and he managed to dodge the almost fatal blow. Connor: (alarmed) What are you doing! Are you going to kill me over a sandwich? Worker: (angrily) Yeah. And that smirking mouth of yours you Gaelic clown! The worker not giving into pity or a sense of reason swung another go at him. Connor, still frightened but on his feet dodged the blow again and managed to get a kick on his right side. While the worker may have been complacent to anger, Connor was a calculated fighter that did not waste a minute to give way to his enemies. Worker: (short on breath) I bet your little boyfriend Liam taught you that ey? You must be a good lover or else why would he keep you around- Before the worker could finish his rambling, Connor swiftly silenced him with a punch to the jaw, a kick in the shins, and ultimately an uppercut to his throat. The impact was so strong that all the bones in his nose shattered and the neurons around his body were switched on frantically as he dolefully bursted out into pain. The knife he was wielding had cut into his hand so monstrously that the skin around his palm was in essence, erased due to the sheer force of his attacks. His shins became flaccid and could no longer walk, and thus the humiliated worker was forced to squabble away like a scared dog on the floor as he could no longer move his legs. In fear of Connor and the manager, many workers left the scene just as the commotion had really started. Liam and Jeff looked

outside in horror as the Boss, their worst nightmare appeared out of all the distress with just Connor alone on that field. Mr. Landford: (infuriated) What is this bloody mess! You have five seconds to explain yourself. Connor: (stuttering) Well- I - I - was - getting - attacked - by Mr. Landford: (angry) Shut your mouth. Zip it! Keep it closed and do not open it again if you'll stutter like a toddler. I'm giving you one more chance to explain yourself before I either teach you a lesson and make you sweep up the barrows or you’ll get your stupid self and all the dirty rags you’re wearing out of here! Connor, still frightened spoke with more coherent yet fumbled English as his brain scampered to find a well-fitted response for such an insipid man. Connor: (fumbling) Well Sir, the thing is that this worker wanted my sandwich and I said no. He didn't get the message so he lunged at me with a knife and I had no other way but to defend myself unless I wanted to get hurt. Mr. Landford: Nonsense! Are you telling me one of my diligent workers would try and kill you over a sandwich? That's the worst blabber I've heard from one of you Irish fools since the famine started! Connor: (annoyed) Irish fools? Mr. Landford: Oh don't act more stupid than you already are. You’re a bloody Irish fool! Why is that so hard to accept? Your race are such good liars that you’ve even convinced yourselves that you’re worth any more than rats on the streets. Simply shameful! I mean, you guys can just come up with excuses for really anything, can’t you? You can say that you were fired because you’re an Irish fella but the real reason was that you provide absolutely nothing to this company or society at all! You just come here like parasites feeding off us and causing! Connor, after dealing with so much unjust prejudice and radical racists and had finally had enough. He had almost been killed, murdered in cold blood over something as futile as a ham sandwich and he was not letting this manager go without a stern warning.

Connor: (sternly) Hey you Landford fellow, Listen to me very carefully- Mr. Landford: (taken aback) How dare you talk to me like that you senseless moron. Know your place! Connor: You know your fecking place you old weasel! You can't just go around accusing people of doing things they didn't do. I know for one that I didn't try to attack someone and you just come around here saying stuff about my Irish folk that isn't more true than how your Father loves you. I hope you know you’re a disgusting person and when I go I hope that stupid smirk crossing your face disappears with me cause I quit! Mr. Landford: (incensed) You dogs want to be like your masters so much if you don't get here - As he raised his stick to wack Connor, Liam came to his aid; shielding him from the blow. Liam: (grabbing his hand) That's enough Landford. Mr. Landford: Who the hell are you? Liam: That doesn't matter. All that does is that you put down your hand Sir. Landford (enraged) For fuck’s sake who the hell are you? If you don't get your filthy hands off me you’ll see death very soon. Liam, now petrified dropped his hand in an instant. But still, with some confidence still ready to jump out, Connor snapped back at the angry and tyrannical Landford who was ready to see their demise right there on that stale industrial plot. Landford: I'm so surprised animals like you even have the courage to - Connor: To treat you like one? No, we haven't but you sure do for a chump. Landford (shocked) Did you call me chump?

Liam: Connor that’s enough let’s stop this here- Connor: Yea you heard me, you're a fecking chump! And you know what, I'm proud to be Irish. I'm proud of all the Irish fellas who have been slaves under this torturous corporation. Men like you do not care about the commoner's struggles, the battles they face every day just to survive in this world drained completely of love and compassion for those not of their kind or baseless strata. Men like you do not care if we die or meet our doom prematurely if that means your pockets will be loaded thoroughly. Your dainty wives and brittle children would look at you with sheer disgust if they even knew for a second how you treat us and yet you continue degrading yourself of any morals and destroying the little self-respect a dignified man of your standing should have! Can you not even pity for us? Just for a second, can you not even think about how woeful our circumstances are and how desperate we have become simply due to your greed and incestuous drive for cash and excess profits? Those strict, upright attitudes of moral perfection that you pretend to have are void from your illusioned reality, embodied through every element of your pedantry and yet you can't see it! You clown! You don’t deserve even an inkling of dignity! You are more rotten, more selfish, more egotistical and evil than all the men who light children ablaze for revelry or abuse women for twisted forms of pleasure. If you had the whole world at your disposal, I’d be scared to even exist with such a sick king ruling it. I just hope you become a better person judging by the fact I don’t see you stooping any lower than you already have; you monster! Landford stood there infuriated yet shaken by his heavy words. “How dare someone questions my authority!” he thought to himself, as that phrase ran through his obtuse head, baffling him that someone from such measly origins dared to challenge him with his incredible sway and power. But as he pondered how Connor could even have such courage, he started to feel some guilt, remorse, pity; true emotions. For the first time in his long and prosperous life he felt somewhat accountable for his hellish actions. Memories of his abusive macho father manhandling him like a piece of clay flooded back into his troubled mind, unravelling all the pain and suffering from his early childhood and making him afraid of the man he had become. The vulgar, dehumanizing slurs he was about to throw at the poor boy slurred around his barbarous mouth as he tried to reckon with the little good he could find inside himself. But as he searched and searched, tirelessly, scavenging through every bit of his soul, he realized he could not find any goodness; it had perished and been gutted from his conscience. Thus, his heart hardened rock-stiff and he became more disdainful and wicked than he already was; truly a vile monster.

Mr. Landford: Ok, since you have the guts to lessen me like a child, all the Irish dolts in this factory are now fired. You can kiss your sad asses goodbye because I no longer want people that think like you in my factory. Go back to Ireland if I'm so pretentious you high and mighty fucker. Connor: (astonished): Very well then, Go to hell fecker! Liam: (under his breath) Oh great, this is just magical. Mr. Landford: If you rats don't get off my property in the next five seconds I will bring beasts to rip your bones apart, do you hear me! Get yourselves out of here now! Never come back! All the Irish men walked out of the factory with their heads despondently pressed down with hate brewing in every channel of their enraged hearts. Instead of blaming the almost sociopathic man who had made them work inhumane hours and endure suffering more than one could humanly manage over countless unforgiving years, they blamed Connor, who dared to have enough bravery to fearlessly challenge the spawn of Satan himself. Divide and rule strangled the minds of these men as they sought to harm and harass the young boy instead of the cunning Landoford. But by the will of something holy, Connor was spared from the reprisal attacks and the many other kinds of violence such would usually bring upon someone gallant enough to do what Connor did. The Irishmen that day decided not to give into vices as they left the factory without an inch of violence; only giving Connor hideous looks as they walked out miserably. Connor: That guy had so much pride in him that it's actually unreal - I should’ve given him a bigger scolding- Liam: (angry) Connor, hold it! Do you actually realize what you’ve done? Do you realize that you've made struggling workers and their scrambling families more burdened than they already are! Because of you, and your need to prove yourself as a brave hero in your naive saviour complex, many people here will starve, beg or die from maladies. Children will cry out wondering why they have fallen into poverty, wives and daughters will have to sell out their bodies in order to make a living, fathers will hang themselves and sons will face shame and ridicule beyond your slender reality simply because you just had to be courageous. Men will be attached to the streets, indulging in a life of crime just to

make ends meet simply because you had to be the hero Connor. Think of the consequences your moral high ground has caused; you selfish bastard! You brought down a monster only to become one yourself, and I can’t support you anymore. I’m done trying to protect you like a son when I don’t even have enough to nourish my own failing body. I cannot fight for you if you’re not willing to learn and therefore this is goodbye. Don’t come back to the flat or you’ll start a war with me that you know you can’t win. (crying) Cheers Connor, I hate you! Connor: Wait Liam, I'm sorry! Please don't leave me to the streets will all the- Liam, with deafened ears and a heavy heart walked away. He was thoroughly tired of keeping company which only seemed to weigh him down and therefore he dropped him reluctantly; weeping inside. He left him to deal with the consequences of being a man willing to challenge the system and having the confidence to deal with his barbarous surroundings and incorrigible racists. Connor, realizing his mistake thought about rekindling their broken friendship, but alas he realized that the rope which held them together had snapped and it was now completely impossible to repair. It would never tie itself back together and so he dropped the matter entirely. With nowhere else to go, Connor left the factory to explore the city which seemed much less hopeful than the giddy day he arrived on its doorstep. Connor: (in his head) I feel so bad for what I did to Liam. He just got a job and here I am ruining all the hard work he’s done for himself. Why can't I just be somewhere where I don't cause trouble or cause people pain? I just wanna help but all I do is make trouble. Maybe I am the problem and other people aren't. Maybe I'm just unhelpable and only live to drag people down. Should I just disappear and never return again by fading away? Just removing myself from all the lives I ruin by merely living alongside them. I don’t want to cause anyone any more pain, I just want to help. As Connor was walking around with these pensive thoughts, he saw a shop with delicious goods on display. They were so fresh and tempting that his nose could not resist the sugary sensation. As he lazed around, ravenous for food, darkness called unto him, urging him to steal the pastries laid before his unsated eyes. Ashamdely, he fell for those temptations as he no longer had the means to contain his indulgent desires and gave in to his thirst for fares. Little did Connor know, this blunder would be graver than any previous mistake he’d committed.

Baker: Good morning chap! What would you like to order? Connor: (shaking) I - I would like a bit of bread please. Baker: Would you like a drink with that, Sir? Connor: No, No, I’m good. Thank you. Baker: Ok I'll be right back. Connor seemed even more desperate as he started to look at the pastries with bulging eyes. But in the middle of his aching hunger, he failed to notice the sign saying “thieves will be butchered if they are caught stealing”. Before the baker could return, he snatched a few loaves and went on his way, but the sharp baker quickly noticed his petty theft and dashed in his direction. Baker: Get back here you scum or you'll be dead scum when I’m done with you! Connor, not hesitating for even a split second kept on running till he unfortunately tripped on a thick bump in the cracked pavement. Sadly, the merciless baker did not pity the boy in the slightest and beat him senseless with all the strength he had quenched in his fists. Baker: You (hits) dirty (hits) theif (hits) I’ll kill you! (hits) You don’t mess with a guy like me (kicks) You don't dare steal from Paper’s Bakery (kicks) You don't even think of ever coming back here or you'll really get butchered (kicks) You slimy scoundrel (kicks) I’ll teach you a lesson today that you'll never forget! (kicks). Connor blacked out shortly after the many taxing impacts. Every hit felt like it was swinging at him in slow motion yet he could do nothing but embrace the tides of pain rolling through every single bone on his frail body. Fists as hard as trying rocks smashed his face as he lied there defenceless on the freezy streets effectively a corpse with all the damage. The baker though, needing to take care of his business decided to leave and left him for the dead, caring not for his life and wishing for him to die a long and agonizing death. But by grace, Connor made it out of there alive with teeth missing and a broken nose after being pounded by the baker's metal fists. His eyes were sullen and his face was completely splattered with blood; truly a horrifying sight. His lips were busted and his chest was imploded inwards. His legs were deformed so badly that he had to crawl

around the city to find shelter as night was beginning to fall onto the lands and the streets could not be trusted; easily a death sentence. In this downcast state, Connor couldn’t contemplate a sound future. He couldn’t even dream of living a comfortable life when the sheer anguish of his beating made him nearly unwilling to survive. Even so, he gathered himself messily under a bulky tree in a quiet park as his mind drifted insidiously to grim and dismal thoughts no sane man would ever think of. CHAPTER 4 - Connor: (in his head) I should end this. These days are pure misery and I can’t get myself to continue down this ghastly path. I can’t play with my treacherous, disloyal brother, nor hug my mother in this stress as she comforts herself with men she shouldn't. I cannot even greet my own father as he is buried in the grave! And now I must go join him. There’s nothing good in this world except for those born into affluence or beauty, and sadly, I wasn’t born into either. Goodbye world, I won’t miss you. He drew a knife from his pocket he’d previously taken from the worker trying to slash him to pieces. He dragged the knife towards himself and pointed it near his heart. It beat and thumped, aching to continue living, but his mind had decided otherwise. He was about to drive it into the begging muscle until something called unto him that caught his attention. Darkness: (deep voice) Young boy, young boy - do not drive that knife into your heart! Connor: (scared) Who are you strange speaker! Darkness: I am all but strange. I am the gull that lives inside your heart and maketh you to do immoral actions. I am the null energy that leads people into peril and causes them to prosper. If you just listen to me you can become as powerful as those who persecute you, who hath led you into this tragic state.

Connor dropped the knife in shock and with curiosity, he questioned darkness sceptically, wondering if this was a figment of his imagination or something supernatural. Connor: How can I trust that you are not here to lead me into more ruin; making me more woeful than I already am? Darkness: If you do not trust me then see it for yourself. Your future will be as beautiful as that Lady Clodagh said it would be. Connor: (caught off-guard) You know Lady Clodagh? How do you know her? Darkness: I know her just as I know more than any man should. I am what causes destruction and delight, who plagues people but also empowers them. If you are to look at these prophecies with your own eyes shall you believe me? Connor: Ok go on, go on. Connor, still a little sceptical was amazed at all the colour and hope twinkling before his naked eyes after all he’d ensued. The prophecy was spectacular as he watched flashes of gold and silver coins bouncing all over his pristine mansion with pearls and daunting jewellery. He saw large mountains of diamonds and sparkling emeralds and food so fat and plumpy he’d never need to eat again by merely taking just one bite of those delicacies. He saw he had power and prestige and could control armies of workers, and put them to labour like soldiers in a battalion. He saw splashes of wine and fine banquets that he’d regularly attend and splendour so lavish markets could crash just with his amount of spoils. Every item he could see or possess was in his hand before he could demand it. But most of all, little Connor had finally courted the woman of his dreams, the dazzling damsel who had left him due to his restrained behaviour. But now that he was a strong and open man ready to take her on in every way, shape and form, she was his entirely. She was so nicely placed like a decoration in his mansion, poising neatly against his many artworks painted by the greatest minds of the time. To his luck, all he had seen was real and was to come, as Darkness had shown Connor through his allusive prophecy everything he ever desired; perfection in his eyes. Connor: What are these magical things! They’ve escaped my deepest fantasies!

Darkness: No, they haven't escaped your dreams or silly thoughts that ramble about in your head. They are true and coming prophecies of the great man you shall become. No more will you be a deadbeat who lies down on this tragic tarmac ground; practically begging for dear life as you slowly bleed into unconsciousness. You will no longer black out or end your days getting drunk or relying on an unworthy Irish man to take care of you. You will no longer bow down to the penal prejudice laid against you but you shall be above it, and shall cast down those wrongdoers who make you feel sickened by yourself. You shall be the greatest man London has ever seen and all that you have seen is your destiny to be. Connor: That's really amazing! Thank you so much for this. I really didn't see anything more to life after everything that had gone down! Darkness: Oh young boy, thank me after you’ve agreed to the conditions I will decree out of my baleful jaw. If you pledge your soul to me then you shall see all the fantastical things I have promised you. Connor: Pledge my soul to you? Darkness: Yes, you must pledge your soul to me. I might be Darkness but there is no light in this world. It's a feeble allusion created to comfort people who could not agree with this reality. You cannot escape me - I live in you and you thrive off me. Simply blending our souls will not change your already feral nature. Connor: I'm not sure about this. I really don't want to pledge my soul to a strange spirit- Darkness: (interrupting) I am not any strange spirit! I am a spirit of mischief but a spirit of my word. When you bring forth your soul I shall deliver it like a friend helping with an errand. You cannot find peace without someone you can trust and I am the one you should hand your trust to. Connor: I don't know. I really have to think about it. If I pledge my soul to you, things may not turn out the way I expected them to- Darkness: Nonsense! If you pledge your soul to me then I will do nothing but give you all you have asked for in your sickle years. You shall be given it before you even thirst for it. Are you scared to give in to me? Me is who dark and evil but bears fruits, unlike

righteousness. Shall ye wallow around like an orphan or suffer until your sad and lonely demise; feeling like you’ve missed out on all the enticements the world has to offer? Do you want to grow old and measly, feeding on pale bread and having to drink sticky rum every hour of every day just to survive? Would you like that? Believe in me and all that you’ve seen shall be real. Hear my tenants and it shall be real. Connor: (interested) Ok, what are your tenants Darkness? Darkness: I call unto you to have faith in me and me alone. You shall leave your Catholic ways and instead be a worshiper of Darkness. My second condition is that ye shall despise righteousness, ye shall toss it out in favour of the cruellest and most abhorrent ways known to man. My third condition is that ye shall reign terror on the men of this country, as when I call you unto high places you shall use that power to lessen those who have lessened and ignored your pleadings in your past life. And finally, you must pledge your soul to me with blood. Your red droplets shall be the ink to your cheque; the key to your eternal wonders. If you like the words I am speaking you shall slit your thumb and press it into the paper that appears in front of you. Connor: What paper are you talking about there's none- Suddenly, a paper appeared out of thin air and ominously moved towards him. Connor being a little bit frightened moved back but the paper continued to follow him. At a point, he stopped and realized that the page was blank and wordless; giving it a dreary and sinister mood as it whispered near him without making a sound. The urges echoed through his ears as he sat there in slight horror and disbelief that all of this was even happening. He was being tempted by a sheet of sure destruction and yet all he could do was stare and gradually be coerced by its sweet talk. After some slow seconds passed, Connor was ready to pledge his soul to darkness and escape the life of pain he’d been born into. Connor: (puts out his hand): It's done. My soul is now pledged to you, Oh Darkness. Darkness: Thank you Connor for this great work. It was an honour doing business with you kind Sir. Connor: Same with you Darkness. But since I am now your servant, may I get your name?

Darkness: My name speaks for itself. I am now in you so search for my name and you shall see it. Goodbye. Connor: Wait! Darkness vanished out of thin air as quickly as he came. Connor sat there confused and also delighted that now he would no longer suffer anymore, that he could now eat till his nose became stuffy and sleep on a bed sheered with wool of his own choosing. But little did he know that he’d made a deal with the devil, as all he’d been promised came with a cost ten times worse than all he’d receive. He’d be cursed the moment he took his first sip of wealth and poisoned the moment he’d receive even a taste of exorbitance. Darkness smirked as he wandered away, showing his true form as the Devil himself! The Devil: (maniacally) Oh that poor, confused boy - he is now more lost than he already was! He is now a toy of mine that will burn alongside all the other puppets I have courted into perishing. He will fry and be in agony and call out unto his God but he will not answer his cries as he hath been deceived by me! That damned child. He is more than dead the moment he becomes filthy by all the promises my tongue has whipped up for him, that I have spoken to sweeten up his peril. That poor dog will no longer be able to step into his beloved church and worship no more because he is mine and I will make him my slave! As the devil continued to ramble, he metamorphized into his true form, a hideous monster. He was red as fresh blood and scaly like a hungry lizard. His wings extended far and wide like a fallen angel; the remnants of the magnificent being he once was. His eyes were a deep crimson red, the colour of a rose stretched of all its colour. His hands were sharp and his nails were like swords which could dig and slash human flesh with a simple touch. His body was erect and keen on causing destruction, causing more agony every direction his malicious body turned. This was the soul Connor had unexpectedly pledged his soul to; he who was the cause of all the problems he anguished under. Connor, who was soon to be mighty would learn far too late of the deathly consequences.

ACT 3: EXCESS BUILT ON REGRET CHAPTER 1 - Connor, still scarred mentally by the robbery awoke to find himself inside a large teeming palace, looking seized right out of the most fabulous arrondissement of Paris and placed in the far edges of rural London. It was beautiful beyond words or dismissive descriptions, so perfect that even dreams could not rival its fantastical aspect. The arches were large and gaping and the ceiling extended to the clouds. The tall hallways loomed over his built stature due to their sheer colossal size. Each wall was decorated with floral appraisal, with little drawings of roses and tulips so fine in detail that it seemed generations were spent to painstakingly craft such elegance. The floors were drownded with rugs and every type of sooting floorboard imaginable, so clear cut and cushioned that you could sleep on it and call it a good night’s rest. The air smelt of fragrance and kindness and you could see the petalled breeze gently push relishing aromas across the pretty palace. Paintings stood like knights on unending shifts as they exhumed of emotion and warmness even with them being mere meagre splashes of colour. Connor, confused as to how he got here rummaged through his place to find a grand diner imposingly laying before him, with a long logged table and many rows of chairs so plenty they were like drops of water in a river. Even with the magnitude of seating, every chair had its place as it was filled with ample amounts of silver tableware surrounded by many exotic dishes brought about from all corners of the exciting world. From the grapes sourced from the vineyards of Toulouse to

the greens plucked fresh from Naples. Carefully cooked shrimp from Belgium and neatly packaged rice from the plush patty fields as far as Manchuria. Savoury mashes from the best chefs of Glasgow and pastries still fresh from Amsterdam. To say the least, Connor was more than amused at all the food laid before him, as he had enough food to nourish him for centuries! He was even more delighted when he turned to see men from all walks of life coming to serve in his palace like handpicked consorts from a vast colony he knew nothing of. Pianists pressed into keys with their Austrian dexterity, mindfully playing Mozart's esteemed Rondo in D major K. 485 with utmost grace as the violinists echoed the steady pace of Lisbon. The cleaners were all bright and young as they had been brought over from summery Romania. Cheerful and elated dancers contorted themselves to Connors's dance of choosing without him even asking, as they diligently tossed themselves up and down in free and liberal choreography like there was a little box of Madrid dancing in that long, theatre-like diner. Women with deep, bellowed voices sang with the same tunes found in the finest theatres of the city. Connor, still shocked that Darkness had provided all of this for in his mind, such a measly price ran out of the room in jubilation but also in fear, as he did not know the full extent of his pledge to that demonic force. He dashed back into his room and shut the door only to find a more astral room enveloping him entirely. But just as he slammed the door, a large thump echoed through the palace, alerting one of the maids, Aline. Aline: (opening the door) Good morning Sire, Is all well? A young female came to check up on Connor in tight yet professional attire. Her skirt was low and spread out yet she managed to be modest by making sparse movements around her forbidden fruits. At first glance, she looked like a little princess picked out of Alice in Wonderland as her puppy eyes and cloud-white smile could smash planets into two. Her hair was bright as lemons plucked from young, ripened rural trees and her lips, those gorgeous lips were redder than roses of any bearing as they popped with their eccentric colour. Connor looked to see this marvel of mankind aiding him in his confusion and became slightly more joyous but still befuddled nonetheless. Connor: (surprised) Who are you, young lady? Aline: (formally) I am your servant Sir. You specially requested that I work at your palace, did you not Mr. Connor?

Connor: No, I didn’t ask you to be here at all! I’ve got no memory of telling you that- But what is your name? I have no idea who you are! Aline: My name is Aline. When you were on your roundtrip across France, you stopped at my father's Bakery in Bordeaux. You asked him to give me up because I looked like a woman fit for your palace and at first he didn't want to. But after you gave him a few thousand francs and a little bit of a row he gave me up. Do you still not remember Sir? Connor: (confused) No I don't remember any of this. I don't remember going to France or even leaving the Isles! I've never been to France, I'm an Irish boy! Aline: Yes you are an Irish boy, but you said it yourself that we shouldn't call you that. You said we should see you like any other English guy and that we shouldn't even dare to mention nor dwell on that “wretched” land. Connor: That's ridiculous! How could I ask you not to talk about Ireland when it's my homeland? Aline: (passionately) That's what you said Sire! Did you have a good rest today or is your head feeling heavy? I can change the pillows again if you want. Connor: No, No, that's not it! So you're telling me that I own this place and I specially requested that you come here? Aline: (with gratitude) That's correct sir. You're the only reason I'm even in London and I can't thank you enough. Aline's eyes widened with appreciation as he reached to hug Connor. Connor being starved of touch was a little startled by this sudden gesture but nonetheless, he embraced her virgin, peachy skin. She smelled like a garden refined with every type of pleasant odour, as even a simple whiff of her sweet aroma was impossible to forget. Instantly, he was smitten by the young girl, but little did he know he was also courting another lady, one he had met and been marred by in his poorer life. Aline: (regretful) I'm so sorry sir! I did not mean to come onto you like that. Connor: (still dazed) No, No it's fine. There's no problem. Why would there?

Aline: Well Connor, I don't know if you've forgotten about that too but you and Lady Bridgette are engaged at the moment. She really loves you and when I say loves you I really mean it. Her eyes and heart only fix on you and Bridgette on her own seems like the most faithful wife a man can ask for. I'm so happy for you, she’s a true gem! Connor: (startled) I’m dating Bridgette? That's complete blabber, how could that be! Aline: What do you mean by blabber Sir? She is your soon-to-be wife. Look at the painting you got commissioned for your soon-to-be wedding! Connor looked up at the wall and saw the painting of him and Brigette, The same dark chocolate brown hair he saw on a faithful evening was the same wavy hair that was on his shoulder as they posed for the artists to craft together their portrait. That dazzle and charm she blessed him with was deeply conveyed without error as the brush seemed to perfectly illustrate every part of her wild personality. But as he kept on staring into the portrait, something unsettling still crept through his head. He felt as if this was not right, as he felt undeserving of such a lavish life. All the fancy food laid together like a banquet and the sheer size of the palace plagued the sensitive mind of Connor and he felt estranged from all the glamour he had sold his soul for. Even with this sense of feeling invaluable enough to live this kind of life, Aline pressed forward with his carefully planned schedule for the day. Aline: Mr Connor, You have a meeting at the factory this morning at Murphy Limited. Connor: Murphy Limited? Has my brother set up a company? Aline: Oh No Sire! Your brother is all the way in Ireland. You also said we shouldn't mention him as in your words, you said “he didn’t deserve to be spoken about.” Connor: Did I say that? I don't remember saying such! Aline: But you said it with such force! It's the same tone you’d expect from a father denouncing his own kin, that's the kind of distaste you had for him.

Connor: (saddened) I don't believe any of that Aline! I love my brother and he is one of the best things that I had in this world until he joined that Army. I’ll never hate him no matter how much he betrayed me in that vulnerable moment. Aline: (taken aback) Wow Sire, I didn't know that was all just a facade. You really did look like you hated Mr. James back when you were yelling about him on the patio last night. You said so many hurtful things about him, I would’ve never imagined there's still love for him in your heart. Connor: Of course there is! Family may hurt each other but what hurts even more is to lose them. Like Aline, don't you miss your father? Aline: (sorrowfully) I do miss him dearly. He was such a sweet man and he cared for me and my life more than his own. He would kill for me to stay but without him sending me away, Mother would have died of her terrible illness. That money you gave him was not just some cheap bribe, he used it to take care of the woman he prized more than his own soul, and the woman I look up to; the person I want to be and embody one day. And to be completely honest, I enjoy every second here in London. Back in Bordeaux, everything was so slow and uneventful. Nothing would change and the same recurring problems would simply arise and somehow transform into even bigger and more troubling ones. The land was so lacklustre and empty and the most exhilarating thing to do was stare at the lame yet ethereal flowers dancing in the fields; just a bit flattering at most. Even the grass seemed unmotived, they didn't even sway with the violent winds swooshing over the lands, and so I knew I had to leave. And with the instability of a gnarly revolution, the fear of women being seized like barn animals and crowds of men going missing or filling the rivers with blood, there was enough tumult for anyone with a rational mind to worry. I could of either waited around and lost myself to war or left and bettered myself, so when you offered my dad that money, not only were you helping my Mother but also me Mr Connor. I really thank you enough Sir! Connor: (glad) Well I’m glad to hear that Aline. How about you go get yourselves some of that cake on the table and we’ll talk about bringing your father and mother to London. Aline: (surprised) Really? Thank you Connor! You’re a blessing to this earth. Connor: No problem. Anyways, when am I supposed to get to the factory?

Aline: By ten. But it's almost 9 Sir you need to make a move on! Connor: Oh, Of course I will. I just need to know where is factory is? Aline: Sire, The coach will take you. There’s no need to worry about that. Connor: (shocked) I have a coach? Wow, well, I best be going then. Aline: (confidently) Yes you should Sire! Go, be on your way you handsome gentleman! Connor: I sure will! Good day Aline! See you in the evening! Aline: (blissfully) Bye Bye! Connor, a little bit more familiar with his new life stepped out of his breathtaking home to greet the flora bathing in the sun’s tingling bask in the mossy garden. The nicely trimmed trees and perfectly cut lawns were sprinkled with rose water as to make the place even more colourful than it already was. Connor, feeling a little more fit for this lifestyle hopped into his spacious, black coach headed to the factory. Guard: Good morning Sire. Coach: Good morning Sire, I hope you rested well. Connor: (going along with it) Most definitely, I actually rested quite well. I must admit Aline has great hospitality. Coach: (formally) I completely agree, she does wonders with her work. Where will you be headed to this fine morning, Sir? Connor: (casually) Oh there's no need in calling me Sir, you can take me to Murphy's factory like usual. Coach: (startled) Oh sure thing. We will be there in 30 minutes provided there's not much traffic this morning.

Connor: (in disbelief) That's a hopeful assumption! The London I know isn’t very blessed when it comes to traffic. Coach: Well you have come back from Paris Sir. No wonder you’re so educated in these matters. Connor: (pretending) Yes - Yes I have! It was such a ruckus! I couldn't even get anywhere without my carriage getting stuck between the endless horses, it was hell! Coach: Sure sounds like hell. We’ll be going to the factory now. Brace yourself Sir! Connor: (proudly) I'm already braced for anything, bring it on! Coach: On your command. Connor, not actually prepared for the chaotic ride to come shot up when the cart finally rattled forward. He sat there amazed as the carriage steered around and drove him like royalty, something only the most elite and prestigious of men rode in and here he was a mere commoner being rolled around in his assiduous contraption. As the carriage continued through the city, they hit a bump and the wooden wheel cracked, stopping the carriage altogether. The coach, in worry quickly told Connor of the sight inconvenience. Coach: (concerned) My apologies Mr. Murphy, a wheel has broken. Don't panic, it will be fixed in no time, just give me a few minutes to fetch one from the store. Connor: (relaxed) No problem mate, just don't take a century! Being the adjusted, ready man he was, he hopped out of the coach with a subtle feeling of liberation and headed out to explore the city just as he did in his less fortunate days. The city no longer called unto him but exploration didst as he wandered around the city, still astounded due to its utter size and grandeur. Whilst travelling along the aesthetic Victorian streets, he became slightly famished, and being the rich man he now was decided to hop into a bakery without realizing that it was the same bakery where he stole from in his dire hunger just a day ago. Though this time, he would have the last laugh as his position meant he could assert control over any man he came in contact with as his wealth made him invincible.

Connor: (eloquently) Can I order- . Baker: Arent you the rascal from before? Why the hell did you decide to come back here you rotten thief! Connor: (shocked) Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this was the same shop. I just came for some bread. Am I not allowed to shop for it? Baker: (angry) Of course you'd shop for it you bloody liar. This time around you’re not getting out of here with all your teeth intact - if you just come here - The baker was about to grab him when his guard came rushing in from behind him and tackled the heckling baker to the ground; blowing a few solid punches to his face in the process. The baker was frozen in shock until he realized that the guard was not protecting a knight or royalty, but Connor of all people. The baker desperately tried to wiggle his way out but to no avail, giving Connor the power to do to him as he pleased. Connor: (triumphantly) What bloody liar were you talking about? Baker: (desperately) Please Sir, spare me! I did not mean to speak so badly about you! Connor: You sure did you sad lowlife (kicks) Putrid thug (kicks) I’ll mess you up! (kicks) How does it feel to be the one getting beaten up, huh? (kicks) I’ll just make you regret it all if you ever speak to me like a diseased crackhead again. (stomps on hand) Baker: (in agony) Ah! My arm! Please Sir, I think you popped something in there. Spare me please! Connor: (laughing) Why would I spare a loser like you? You offer no use to this world and therefore you can be useful by suffering you deadbeat scum. Connor grabbed a weighty wooden rod with pointed edges on every side it spared and began to pummel him with it.

Connor: How dare you grab and tell me that I'm a rotten thief (hits) What are you - What are you! (hits) You’re just so disgusting to look at killing you would be a favour to society (hits) No one should have to look at someone so hideous (hits) Sucker (hits) Die you goon! Die! Connor increased the frequency of his hits as if he was trying to tear down a bouffant beast, but alas it was the poor baker struggling to receive his lethal blows. Instead of Connor losing teeth, the battered baker had lost about twenty. His eyes squinted wide open in fear as blood sprinkled all over his face. His skull cracked more and more with every impact yet all he could do is jolt in pain as the agony was unbearable. His legs were fractured from all the kicking and the bones inside them were obliterated completely. Now the man could no longer bake or make bread to help his homely business as a limp man could not cook nor even fend for himself in that harsh city, relegating him to a sure life of congruent torment. Connor, feeling like a thug paused for a moment to realize what he had. He had almost killed a man, but for some odd reason he didn’t feel guilty, almost as if something had possessed him and taken root of all the merit kept in his impressionable spirit, disintegrating it entirely. He did not pity him or even have a frisson of mercy because the baker did not hold back when he savagely pounced on him like a defenceless deer to a vicious predator. He no longer showed the empathy or emotion he once did in his more destitute days and now turned into a cold and calculated businessman. Just as the prophecy had said, Connor had given up compassion for cruelty, as not one word that Darkness spoke did not manifest. And so Connor, being the heartless man he now was, hopped back into his carriage with a nicely fixed wheel while laughing and mocking the baker in his deleterious state. Connor: (angry) How could such a loser ever talk to me like that? Guard: (agreeing reluctantly) Yeah! There are people that need to be put in their place and he just didn’t know it! Connor: (sinisterly) He sure needed to. I would’ve killed the fellow and dismembered his bones If I wasn't getting to this meeting! Guard: Good call Sir, Coach - Take us to Murphy Limited. Coach: Yes Sir, we’ll be on our way.

Connor: (arrogantly) Hurry it up I haven't got all day. Coach: (scared) Yes Sir right to it! The coach realising that he had sobered to his nasty nature hastily hit the horse and swung the carriage forward in trepidation. Keenly, Connor peered out of the coach window, more alert and aware of the city, as it was his home; a place he felt he was more accustomed to. Even though the urban city was exceedingly different from his hometown, he found more homage in the drab, concrete London towers than the lichened countryside he was born into. The carriage not wasting a minute quickly made its way to the factory, and from there, Connor stepped off a completely changed person; enamoured with himself and pampered with pride. Connor walked right into the factory with his head up and feeling confident in himself with all he’d achieved; making a loud and frightening entrance for all his scared workers. Connor: (loudly) My slaves, come out, come out now! All the workers frantically dropped their work to come into the lobby to greet their boss. Connor quickly had an epiphany that this lobby was eerily similar to that of Landford Limited; as if it had been swapped the second he vowed to those sly tenants. Shocked, Connor shut his lips to lament on the current events transpiring in a bid to truly understand the extent of his newly-found wealth. Connor: (to himself) Isn't this place Landford Limited? The company which threw me out like trash and left me to rot and get battered by that foolish baker! If I would have my way this accursed factory and everything in it would be burnt down to the ground. But for the sake of business, I must keep it and guard it against all attacks as it is the source of all my current wealth and every glad feeling I’m experiencing at the moment. Now that I have power, let me exploit it and use it to its fullest! I shall step on the men that have stepped on me before; that’ve left me derelict under their crude forms of punishment. I will make them pay and kiss my heels for now I am in charge! Suddenly, Connor noticed a familiar face in the background. It seemed to be that of the worker who had gotten him and all the Irish fellows the factory sacked after his tempered outburst. The worker was unaware that Mr. Murphy was Connor as he had forgotten all about him and simply assumed another rich fellow had taken over. Connor, enraged and

with vengeance still lurking in his heart dashed towards him with purple horns and angry, angry breaths. Connor: (angry) Hey you, come back here you fool! Worker: (not looking at the boss) Which swine called me a fool- The worker's weightless words were cut short when he realised the badge on his attire. It symbolized that he now owned the large warehouse and by default him and every element of his life, just as Landord did. Every time he had abused him and hurled profanities at this face would now result in his already crumbling world being set on fire, as an unmatched feeling of dread made its way into his itching skin. Connor, with a grin on his face prepared to give him a lesson that his feisty hands would never forget. Connor: (smiling) Who are you calling a swine, pig boy? Worker: (scared) No one Sir - No one! I was talking to myself Sir - I'm the swine! Connor: No, I don't think so. You were slandering me when you made that utterly useless remark, weren't you? (sternly) I’d just like you to be honest, was that directed at me? Worker: (more frightened) No Sir! Never Sir! It’d never be directed at you Sir! I was simply talking to myself being the mentally disturbed man I am. As you surely know I'm not the brightest bulb - Connor (fed up) Hold it! I don't want to hear any more of your stammering. If you have nothing truthful to say then give me your mouth so I can shred it because it's simply useless! You’ll either tell me the truth or I will, and hear me when I say I will bring it out of you. Worker: (stuttering) I - did - mean to direct that at you - but without any bad intentions I was just a little too casual yah know- Connor: No, I do not know! But I'm glad you were honest. Now be on your way. Worker: (stunned) Just like that? Oh wow, thank you boss!

Connor: (smiling) Oh don't thank me, be on your way kind Sir. I'm sure you have important work to tend to! Worker: (happy) Yes sir, Yes sir! The worker turned away slowly but respectfully as he was amazed at the patience and calm exerted by Connor. Was this another one of his tricks or had he sincerely found forgiveness for all the wicked deeds committed against him? Regardless, thinking he was off the loose, he raised his foot, trying to walk away when suddenly a bullet fired. Connor: (grinning) Don't think you've gotten away that easy you mouthful mutt. The worker looked at his hand to find blood gushing from it. In agony, he let out a scorching, blood-curdling scream that echoed to every corner of the factory and the workers’ shivering and afraid ears. Connor brought a table and smashed it on the back of the blistered bully. He fell to the floor in a pitiful manner as all the surrounding workers looked onwards in fear and horror as Connor ruthlessly beat the man to a sad and sorry pulp. Connor: (enraged) How dare you tell me I'm a stupid Irish moron (kicks) How dare you to try and steal my food you riffraff wretch! (kicks) How dare you call me a fucker when you are nothing more than a failure! (kicks) With supersonic speed, Connor grabbed his swollen face and began to pummel him with punches. Connor: You tried to shank me ey? How did that go (punches) How did that go! (punches) You’re about to die in this place and you'll be remembered for doing nothing with your life (punches) How does that feel (punches) How does that feel! (punches) Die you fucker! (punches) He dropped him to the ground and cynically spat on him. He even went as far as to light a cigarette and use him to blunt the flame afterwards. He then asked anyone in the crowd to come forward but no one did in fear that they’d meet the same fate. Annoyed and not wanting to waste more time, Connor picked someone himself. Connor: Since none of you wants to come out, Jeff c’mhere.

Jeff: (terrified) Yes Sir! Jeff like a timid animal scurried along to the patio with the dying worker lying right next to him in a pool of his own blood in blossoming regret. He looked at his tragic state, praying he’d not leave this place dishevelled like the poor man. Connor: (loudly) Look at this rotten fool lying on the ground! Look at him very carefully because that could be one of you if you try to mess with me! If you revolt and strike or attempt to bully me in any way I will strike you ten times harder. I can get you tossed into the ocean or buried up in a grave alive without anyone knowing and you wouldn't even know it was coming. Your families would never have answers and all I will have for them is my sickly laugh because I will dance all over your premature graves. You cannot intimidate me! I am the most important man in your life and because of that you will all obey me and me only! If you take orders from anyone else, I will give orders to put you and that unfortunate fellow out of this world, because trust me, I will end that ego of yours. I am not scared of anything but you should be scared of me because if you don't, I will make you find that fear! Do you hear me? Do you! All the workers: Yes sir! Yes sir! Connor: (smiling) Brilliant! Now take a look at Jeff for a second. Just take him in with his broad shoulders and wide, white smile. His brilliant hair and his deep coral-blue eyes. His uniform perfectly done and his tongue speaking so purposefully. If only all of you could be like Jeff then my job would be so much easier! Be like Jeff boys, be like Jeff! If this other skunk fella acted more like Jeff he wouldn't be lying on the floor here, would he? Man up you bloody cretins and be more civilized, even if you all come from peasant families. Worker: (shrivelled voice) Please don't kill me - Connor kicked his head violently causing him to be knocked out instantly. He was so infuriated that that scoundrel could even make a request like that knowing his social standing and treacherous past and yet he still pled for mercy. “Pathetic” he thought, as he jeered at him whilst he was withering. But by grace, his heart still kept beating; struggling to press forward with all the injury incurred from the beating.

Connor: Now, if you’d all excuse me I have a meeting to attend to. Let this be a lesson for all of you, do not try anything funny. The consequences will be everything but funny and you will be begging me to stop when I go through with them! He left the room with pompous latched to his back and he pretentiously slammed the door open for his meeting. Connor: What rubbish are we talking about today fellas? Manager: (dismally) Well Mr Connor, the price of your stocks has been falling due to competition. Connor: (annoyed) Well this is just amazing, isn’t it! Well, what are the names of those fellas? Manager: Mandeck Industries and Donnors Incorporated, Sir. Connor: (coldly) Set their factories on fire. Manager: (stunned) You must be joking Sir. That's a felony on multiple levels and getting rid of our biggest competition all at once would attract a lot of unwanted attention- Connor: (sternly) Do it or you’re fired? Manager: (reluctantly) Yes sir, on it Sir! Connor, irritated with all the drama of the office left powerfully with large ground-shattering stomps like that of a giant proud of his power. He paid no attention to the worker lying on the ground slowly bleeding to death nor the Manager hesitantly calling unto workers to bring out barrels of gasoline to douse their only competition; potentially roasting many innocent souls alive in the process. But alas he made his way out of the place feeling on top of the world, better than ever.

CHAPTER 2 - Narrator: The morning withdrew from the lucid sky beautifully as the moon arose to shape the evening so tranquil and calm. Connor was taken to a manor nestled deep into the hills of suburban London. The warm, palatial mansion felt extremely intimate. The pink walls were lined with so many skillfully painted artworks that the whole room felt like Buckingham Palace drawn into a dreamy forest. The echoes of Mozart's famed Mazurka No. 9 In C Op. 7 No. 5 danced through the air whilst guests waltzed through the large chamber; poising themselves elegantly against each other. The place was rife with merry miasmas, with tender smells and nauseous amounts of fragrance drenched into the suits and dresses of those on the dancefloor. Many trays of fine delicacies, from sheep to cultured lamb were served to the eager yet restrained guests. The guests locked their hands like young lovers fooled by the lie of love as their eyes fixed on each other’s beauty through the mellisonant melody that rang throughout the enthralling place. Dancers in rose red gowns moved their bodies in spectacular fashions, swinging their hips and legs around like flamingos perched onto a marble floor as they showed off their creative flare in an enchanting manner. The trees decked in the surrounding foliage twinkled like a little twilight forest, with fruit glowing as bright as lustrous gold on the skinny branches. But out of all of them, a magical lady stood radiating out of the vast crow of affluent men and women. No beauty other than Bridgette’s sat there in the sea of suitors as gorgeous and captivating than she was as she looked around confused and overwhelmed by the vast crowd, avid to find Connor. But her face eased as she looked to see her soon-to-be husband Connor standing there, waving at her reassuringly. Connor greeted her with a gentle smile as they gradually moved closer to one another. Bridgette was adorned with pricey pearls and onerous necklaces trailing down her luscious neck. Her dress was carefully fitted around her thin, hourglass figure and her eyes glittered with the same wild and adventurous energy she had on the very fateful day in that prude pub where she met Connor. Her legs were girlishly tucked under her lengthy garment as her heels clapped against the oak floor like a beam hitting iron as she toed femininely towards him. Even with his reservations, Connor could do nothing but stand

there amazed as she strolled towards him with her soft cinnamon locks and peachy cheeks. Bridgette: (softly) I’m surprised you'd even make it. Connor: (blushing): Well I wouldn't miss this for the world sweetheart - you know you mean everything to me! Bridgette: (lustfully) I know I do. I mean more to you than you’d like to admit. She smacked her lips in an attempt to lure Connor into her baited trap whilst rubbing her petite fingers on his shoulder, round and round like she was casting a spell. Connor: (aroused) You - sure know me well don't you my love - Bridgette: I sure do my darling. But how about we get some wine and then some private time - Alone, together? Connor: (enthusiastically) Alone? Well, I’d sure like that! Let's go get some top-up on some red wine then we’ll have that fun! Bridgette (winking): Ai Ai, Captain. Connor and Bridgette walked together like a newlywed couple to the wine table. It was filled with all kinds of alcoholic beverages, ranging from freshly squeezed and fermented wines from mere months ago to almost centuries-old liquors, as it was preserved just for a special moment like this. They grabbed a bottle and sensually shared its content as they grabbed each other's hands while pouring. Connor: You sure do know how to pour don't you? Bridgette: I do, I do. (seductively) Y’know - I can make you pour more than a little wine if you’d let me. Connor: (red-faced) I’d - be delighted - to!

Bridgette: If you say so handsome Now if you will, put down your drink and come dance with me. I wanna feel more than just your boyish fingers. Connor: Yes my queen - I am coming! Connor and Bridgette dropped their drinks to rush to the dancefloor. As they peered around each other, they noticed so many couples deeply in love with each other, a type of passionate love both their deviant minds still struggled to fathom. But as the lights dimmed, the couple put their hands together and cherished every second they had together. They gazed into each other's gladdened eyes as they shared a warm, moist kiss. Her soft lilac lips locked with his as they rustled their noses slowly. Bridgette, knowing there was more to this than a simple midnight kiss signalled Connor to follow her into a room. Whether or not things unholy would go down was a mystery, as at the moment anything could happen. Bridgette: This way cute stuff. (winking) I have a surprise for you. Connor: (intrigued) What type of surprise my darling? Is it a cake? Or maybe a private dinner? Bridgette: (softly) Not exactly - But you will be digging into a fresh course once you see my gift. Connor: (cheerfully) I can't wait to see it! Bridgette motioned her fingers in the direction of a dark room. It was quiet and tiny, with only enough room for two people but still enough to do any amount of abominable acts inside of it. Bridgette made her way in first and Connor followed suit. Bridgette: Wait outside Connor. (smiling) I can't let you ruin the surprise, can I? Connor: Oh, but wouldn't it be easier if I was to see the surprise right now my darling- Bridgette (interrupting): No, No! You mustn’t be a bad boy. Bad boys don't get to enjoy good stuff just as much as they should. (giggling) Connor: (infatuated) Yes- Yes they don’t! Go on - take as much time as you want.

Bridgette: Of course I will - this surprise has to be top quality doesn't it? Connor: Yes - Yes - Of course - Top quality. I wouldn’t want anything more or anything less. Bridgette: And for that you have to stay put my pumpkin pie! She walked to Connor and pressed his nose like a little tease and tilted her hips around as she walked into the room. Connor, energetically agreeing stayed put like a dog obeying his master's commands. He waited eagerly, wondering if this surprise was one of flesh or of flavour. He was dying to know what kind of surprise would take her so long to devise. What was so amazing that she had to make him wait so tirelessly for? Was it a sort of abrupt show of devotion, a sudden outburst of amour! Either way, Connor was verily tempted to enter but still stood there, waiting just as his royal highness told him to. But after an almost infinite amount of time, her majesty had allowed him to witness the surprise she had assembled specially for him. She laid on the bed bare and fully exposed. Her body was shiny and lustrous as light bounced off her smooth and nude skin. She fondled her legs up in the air as to bring attention to her thighs and she looked at him with a lude, suggestive gaze. Her chest was like that of a steep hill, simply buried in the meek body of an inexplicable temptress. She sat there like a scintillating child fresh out of the womb as she waited for her subject to feast on her. Bridgette: (seductively) Like what you see? Connor: (seduced) I do - I do! Bridgette: Then why don't you come and feel me? Connor: (blushing) Feel you? In a place like this? - Isn't that a little improper don't you think? Bridgette: It's alright I like a bit of danger. (winking) And I know you like a good rebel don't yah?

She licked her lips in an attempt to seduce him even more into her trap. She turned around like a sausage in a bready blanket and moved her body in a lustful manner. By now, Connors's eyes were pink and truly in love with his darling, as he saw nothing but perfection in her loose, bare body. She was the embodiment of all the feminine charm and character he desired in a lady but someone that was also bold and willing to break boundaries in a fearless, manly plight. She again signalled him to join her in the bed as she turned around to smile at him warmly. Bridgette: C'mon - Don’t be shy my boy there's nothing to be scared of. Connor: (awkwardly) I'm not scared of you - I'm just amazed - May I truly join you under those sheets? Bridgette: (eagerly) Yes you may! Just come in and I’ll do whatever you say my hunky, hunky man. Connor happily jumped into the bed like a thirsty rabbit hopping to fetch a carrot as he snuggled and embraced each other's lips. Their tongues smacked on each other as they gave their all with their mouths. Her fingers traced down his sweaty body as she slowly caressed her way up his legs. Connors's hand followed suit and jumped from his pocket all the way to her cleavage and he tried to dig his hand into her treasure. But little did he know, he had fallen right into her trap. Bridgette: (loudly) Get him boys! Bridgette quickly jumped up from the bed and put her blouse on as quickly as a mistress being caught by a distraught wife. Connor stared around confused, unaware of what was transpiring. What boys was she calling onto? Was it distant ghosts or metaphysical beings? But all was addressed in brief seconds as men in black masks jumped out of the desolate room to come and grab him. Robber: There he is! Snatch his bag and take all his money. Bridgette: Don't forget the watch it's worth a fortune! Connor: (confused) What in tarnation is happening? Bridgette - what is all of this!

Bridgette: (menacingly) It's nothing my boy - just behave and nothing bad will happen to you. Connor: (angry) Don't tell me to behave! Do you know how vile this is? Oh don't you worry once I get my hand on you fellas your gonna regret ever tryna rob me - Bridgette sick of his rambling grabbed a stick from the cupboard and slapped it right onto his sorry face. In the blink of an eye, the robbers also joined in and began to give him a good beating. His eyes started to swell just as hard as the time he was beaten in the bakery as the robbers pounced on him without a care in the world for his well-being. Everything he wore that day, from his fancy tie to all the extravagant jewellery on his fingers and around his arms were stolen. His many blocks of cash carefully put into his pocket and his most prized possession, his watch which was a sacred heirloom for him and his family, that his father had gifted him just as all the generations prior had had vanished in an instant! They did not spare anything that even had the littlest value and all those sentimental items had gone missing forever. Connor laid there helpless as they continued to pocket anything else they could find as Bridgette hastily wore on a gown and composed herself after almost killing the man; walking out there like she was the queen on this Earth. All Connor could do was sit there tortured by his thoughts as he slowly blacked out; succumbing to his injuries. The background slowly became dizzier and his vision became blurry. His eyes grew heavy and the world around him seemed to be stopping. The air turned chilling as he transcended this earthly realm; almost like he had met death. Connor: Have I died? Am I still alive or is this a sick mockery of the Reaper? What strange realm is this; this parallel that does not bind to time nor laws of reality. I feel as if I'm in heaven and also in hell as I am not a worthy soul for either. My corrupted nature has led me to this destitution and now all I can say for my life is that I have been played in my own game. I have lost to the pace of my own hustle and I have been fooled by the woman I’ve given so much up for. What is this life? What is its purpose? Am I simply here to suffer or to strive to make others suffer more immensely so I can get a shallow feeling of gratification from this depraved universe. Shan’t I not exist if life was so futile? Life merely seems to be a silent struggle of people waiting to perish. A grim tale of people losing all they deeply cherish. All man’s fun and laughter end in moss in wearing graves; all are eventually forgotten after crowds of fleeting days. Time has spoken cruelly against me from the moment I climbed out of my mother's bosom. Day by day those years schemed against me until I now drop into death's dungeon. For so long that felt so

little I have rejected my demise, yet the clock did not give exceptions and clicked when it was my sorry time. Oh, I wish I could back the clock and reap the fruit of life; instead of living to make others fearful in my sight. I cannot run away from perishing; a sad existence without breath. That is the truth of the coming absence, the voice of the malign tongue of death. I have become a disaster of my own making, causing discord and dissent, for I abandoned my family with all of their content; leaving them to expire in winter while I became stinking rich, and dried out my soul while they wizened and twitched. Shall I just accept my fate and fade away into the continuum, being swept away by the abyss, never returning to reality? I feel as if that would be better because I cannot face this strange, unruly world that I’ve been forced to reluctantly inhabit. If I were to be one with the loneliest of stars twinkling in the dark night sky, I would be far more fortunate, as their company would glitter for hundreds of years before they saw their eventual demise. If I am to die, at least my last thoughts will be on something worthwhile. Goodbye cruel world, you mother of evil. Connor, fully ready to accept his coming fate and the dominion of death allowed himself to be taken by Darkness. It felt almost relieving as he slowly left everything he had done behind to escape into the afterlife. But right as he was about to celebrate in the tranquil ease of passing, he felt strangely warm - a little too warm. This warmness rapidly turned to fire and blazes erupted underneath him. He looked down to see what could only be the most frightening scene any eyes could witness. Souls were buried in seas of lava and the sheer agony was indescribable. The air was so thick with the smell of burning flesh that his nostrils collapsed within a few inhales. Darkness had achieved its goal and all seemed to go according to his plan; to retrieve his soul and send it to the depths of hell! Connor: (horrified) Please please, release me from this torment - this is not where I belong! Release me from this place where I cannot even breathe, please! Connor pled and pled and yet his pleadings seemed to go unheard. Time became dormant and all he could do is scream and wait for eternity and his ceaseless carnage to elapse its final tick. But alas, he realised that it would never end and the pain was far too unbearable to endure; he knew at that moment he was done for. But as quick as the stroke of lightning, he was transported out of this hellish realm and back into the lightless room in the palace where he was mercilessly beaten. He woke up in shock and intense worry, knowing that he had one more chance to make things right. One more opportunity to amend his wrongdoing with all the people he had harmed and ruined in his many

unprovoked rampages. He gathered himself with the little strength he had remaining and pulled himself to the mirror. Connor: (bleakly) Is this the man I have shaped out for myself? Pathetic. Connor walked away from the room, not looking back as he marched out only wearing sagging trousers around his waist. The guest looked at him in shock and began to berate him, calling him all kinds of crude names and mocking him horribly. Their bitter comments though so vulgar and stern did not hurt Connor as his mind became an impenetrable shield nothing could enter. Out of the jungle of judgement, he departed from the palace and made the long walk from the palace back to his worthless mansion. All the delightful aspects of living amongst the upper echelon soured as he no longer enjoyed that high-profile life. He rested on the soft, cushioned bed, now feeling raggy and coarse; making himself a good night's rest in preparation for the big day to come. CHAPTER 3: DAY OF RECONNING - It was a bright yet chilling morning. The sun had risen and yet the lands still felt dry and sickle. The leaves were browning as the fall had arrived to rob the lands of luscious lime green colour and all the joys bright chromas brang and schemed with gayly in whispering summer and spring. The air was hard and you could feel fog fermenting on your face as you travelled through the now absent and uninvolved streets of London; feeling lonely and emptied out of the zealous drive it once possessed. The promise that darkness had spoken unto Connor was in hindsight, no more believable than that of a jester trying to promote his knowledge to high-brow scholars. The devil had devoured his soul without much attempt and now Connor would be swallowed into the sure damnation that was to follow if he did not to make amends with the men he’d subdued with his impotent power.

Connor, melancholily lept from his bed to stare into the mirror gloomily; regretting all the pain he had caused within the short period he amassed all he could dream of. Instead of using it for servitude, he abused the same system which also wasted him under his past persecution. After his doleful gaze into the glass facade, reflecting his utter vanity, he grabbed a coach; not wasting a second to get to the factory. All though in a rush, his demeanour was fatigued and raddled and he looked drowsy as he had no more energy to command in his raspy voice. But nonetheless, he was committed to returning order to the ruckus he had raised out of impulsive desires and emotion, so he charged forward; determined to make things right. The doors to the factory swung open as he entered, with all the workers looking straight at him with dread lingering in their sinews. Yet Connor did not have any threats to bestow on them but rather a powerful speech to make atonement for his actions. Connor: (loudly) Don’t be afraid my workers. I am here not to harm but to help you. Please hear me out before you all fall into the same kind of agony I have under the curse of cash and sudden fortune, I dearly plea with true sincerity! All the workers were now fixed on Connor like a freshly lit fire. The slow and hindered Connor walking into this factory turned a bit brighter as he tiredly stepped up that bleak stage; speaking boldly in desperation, hoping to change minds and win over hearts. Connor: (emotionally) Forgive me for all my heinous blunders and terrible grievances I have gifted unto you all you ill-fated souls. If clemency after my savage acts can be found in your hearts, please I beg of you, let it extinguish the rage that I have lighted; that I have set up for you due the vices of my past peril. If there is benevolence in this world, I dare you to evoke it in this volatile moment, as I am not deserving of anything but torment and the grill of your voices. When I die, I shall be buried not with oceans of cash nor foolish amounts of riches, nor the castles or precious stones which serve no purpose but of boasting. But I will die a man with regret and a debt so horrible that it shall not be forgiven by holy forces the moment they give notice to my crimes. I am just as burdened as the moment I left the revelry of the farm to the big city that still fails to even pleasure the most esteemed of populous. We are players in this game we call life where we all compete to be the victor. But what use is championing, victory, triumph over your other brethren when you slay everything that peeps or makes the smallest microscopic sounds just to win it? Once you win you shall be left with only dank solitude, sure to butcher you

terribly before you can even celebrate your bloody winnings. Be not taught in fire and fury my brothers! Do not let hardened hearts bring you down to places you do not dream of ever visiting, as the cost is nothing near rewarding. I have made a life for myself, owning fortunes vaster than generations of established families in what has felt like seconds flying by my fingers, but there is no substance in this headache of a life as even your wives and cherished women shall betray you for the temptations of profit and greed! You cannot replace the console of family with loose and wanton women or any count of gems that refract light in a sick manner after you realize the heart-wrenching methods used to extract them. Do not be like me, an example of how power corrupts, how it ruins the soul the moment it callously enters. A model of what riches will do to one and contort and turn them crooked the instant it receives a single opportunity. I tell you it will dismantle your character and frail dignity and in its place a coward will arise that relies on cold crassness to function. So with that, hear me when I say I retire from this life. I reject the vanity and valour of being elite and I now decree myself to the life I was meant to live all along, that I never designed to deviate from. I am now just like any other person born out of a mother; a commoner, a working-class man, a human. The workers did not know how to feel about Connor. Should they have forgiven his atrocious actions or still be vengeful against him? Either way, Connor was not looking for redemption, but rather he desired for them to have peace and nothing but that. He knew what he did to those men did not make him worthy in the slightest of their mercy, but with sore guilt ripping his heart apart, he knew he couldn’t just let them be buried in their wave of baleful sorrow. He cried out on his knees while the workers contemplated what they should make of this. Connor: (desperately) Forgive me of my sins Heaven and all the powers subsiding above, absolve me of my iniquity! As Connor cried out terribly, weeping and begging for mercy a familiar face popped out of the sea of repentance. James: Connor - What is all of this my brother? Connor turned around and was so aghast he almost fell off his polished soles. James, James! His estranged brother whom he had left to die in Ireland; whom he had deserted when they needed each other the most was finally here. It was almost like an act of divine charity had blessed him with this emotional reunion, even as everyone glared at them

menacingly in that hell-bound hall. But nothing mattered anymore to Connor because family at the end of the day was the world to him and to come for Connor. Connor, almost paralyzed with bliss erupted with joy and jubilation as he finally saw his brother after what felt like an eternity. Connor: (elated) James! James! My brother! How could you come all the way to London just to see me? James: (happy) I had to! I had no other choice. Mother threw me out of her life after some little argument. I called her some real nasty names and she took that as enough to cut me out permanently. Hopeless, I just thought about life for a while till you came to mind. I thought you’d must’ve gone to London and so I followed in your tracks and found myself in this massive metropolis. Then I saw the Murphy name on a billboard for this factory, and quite frankly, I was a bit taken aback because I’d never expected someone from such humble origins to rise so exceptionally. I’m so proud of you Connor, even with all the sly rumours circulating. But hear me when say I love and accept you just as much as the moment you came into this world. Connor: (ecstatic) I love you too brother. You mean the world to me! James and Connor both ran to each other like delighted children, with their hands wrapped around their chests like auspicious lovers. Although their brotherly love was shaped differently than that of typical siblings, they were buried in bliss the moment they locked with each other in that choking, yet consoling hug. Everything to Connor felt right. It felt like all had been corrected, as if all the money in the world meant nothing as true peace finally dawned on him. He had embraced the kind bond of family once again with the one man he could always rely on. But like all happy endings, they must come to an end, and thus his fairy tale was cut short by the cold sensation of blood splattering all over his head, as his eyes were soaked with trauma no man could recover from. A bullet fired with a piercing sound as it soared through the room and struck James right in the head. Connor: (hysterically) James! James! Why you James of all people! You cannot die in this cursed place - Please, James don’t give up on me you mad lad! You can’t die in my arms, you’re all I have left! James! Please wake up - wake up! James please! (sobbing) Wake up!

No matter how much he cried out James would not awaken and he slowly but surely died in his brother's hands. Such a sight gave flashbacks to when he saw his father on the floor, lifeless with tired eyes as a bullet struck him square in the head. The scene was just the same for Connor and he could not bare the pain. As he looked upwards he saw a man holding a pistol, glaring right into his eyes. “Who could this heartless killer be?”, he asked himself as he looked up to see it was none other than Liam of all people! After he had lost his job he had no other choice but to join a life of crime and became a hitman for a notorious gang. His acquired target was Connor, yet his speech was so captivating that for a moment he was possessed by his words and dazed out of his murderous intent. But with time running out for the window for his mission to be completed, he decided to go through with it. Reluctantly, he shot at Connor but the bullet did not fly into his skull but rather that of James; the ultimate betrayal. Connor: (crying) What have you done Liam! What have you done! You’ve killed my brother, an innocent man you fool! What have you done! Liam dropped the pistol as he realized the true extent of what he had done. Liam: (terrified) I - I am not sure what evil I’ve done! Shall God ever forgive me for this senseless killing! Connor: (blank) I dearly hope he does not. Maybe he shall forgive you for slaughtering my brother in cold blood but I will never forgive you! I hope you die a terrible death and remember this as you're passing. Connor stood up and retrieved the pistol Liam had dropped. Standing on the stage he had used to both lecture and plead from, he put the pistol under his jaw and fired one, precise shot. *Boom* He was killed the second the bullet made a metre into his jaw; dying with his dearest brother whom he has always admired. Two corpses entangled each other lifeless like putrid road kill as Darkness looked on with a smirk crossing his disfigured cheeks. And with that, the words of Lady Clodagh and the Devil had been fulfilled. Awoken was he to a life of excess and splurge that most will never get; one void of pain and brimmed with

pleasure but seething with regret. But now he has perished, and died a tragic way, dying from the consequences of his actions drenched with shame. Harken to grace which is invisible to man, listen to it keenly and all of its demands. Is it not from this spirit from which frank righteousness is found? Is it not from this virtue that all meritable men are made sound? From the gallows to glory, Connor now is no more - as he has awoken from his riches and in the grave he forever snores.

END