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Summary
““The most dreadful part of all," the old stag answered, "is that the dogs believe what the hound just said. They believe it, they pass their lives in fear, they hate Him and themselves and yet they'd die for His sake.”” The voice in his ear is grating, filled with crunching metal and bars and tones. Darkness is replaced by that hellish red glow of the lure, beaming brightly and without pause. It sways in front of his eyes as liquid teeth bypass their glass prison, pressing dangerously against his back. Alastor could feel the lacerated tongue slide up his spine as Vox continued to speak. “Are you willing to die, Ḃ̷̨̡̫͓͈̰̗̜̒̄̅͘ḁ̸̫̦̝̒͜m̸̭̹̟̓́̈́́̎̕͠ḅ̷̡̪̭͈͋̐̄̏̿̽ͅî̸̧̤̣̘͆̿̐̇͛̋̑͝?”