Re: Skies Of Weston
He shrugged, and said softly, his voice a deep rumble "I had choices, even in Hell, Victoria. I could lay down, give up, and let hem kill me or do to me whatever they wanted. Or I could fight it, tooth, nails, and everything else, and hold to my own self. I chose to fight. I've been skinned, drawn and quartered, disemboweled, flogged until my bones shone through the blood, and had my limbs ripped from my body. I wouldn't give myself up to them for that, wouldn't give up. And then I learned how to kill them, permanently. And I learned how to be nastier than they were, when I had no other choice. But generally, Victoria, I like to be a nice guy. I like to fly, sketch, and believe it or not, I enjoy working on cars and motorcycles, and ending up covered in engine grease." He'd been leaning against a concrete wall on the roof, shrouded in shadow, only his eyes visible as he spoke.