Henry froze, he knew that voice, he had grown to hate that voice, he had killed that voice. In awe and horror he spun around.

'Humboldt? But you're dead, I killed you!'

The clarity of his thoughts evaporated. As suddenly as it had stopped the laughter resumed and grew louder until the humorless sound wrestled back control of Henry's mind and drowned out his thoughts. Raising the knife once again Henry turned back to his intended victims, ready to strike.

'You are dead. Now leave me to my misery. Even in death you taunt me.'

Humboldt threw down his lamp and hurled himself at his brother. Falling under the assault Henry missed the mark. The knife tore into Alice's shoulder cutting deeply, slicing through her flesh. Blood erupted into the air and her screams echoed around the cell. Her death knell had been rung. Alice released Jeremiah from her grip and screamed. Her final word was also her final breath,

'RUN!'

Sinking down the wall she hung by her arm from her shackles, dead. Without looking back Jeremiah ran. Dodging past the monster he had known as father, he scurried out of the cell and disappeared into the darkness. Humboldt slammed Henry back into the wall jarring the knife from his grip, sending it skittering across the cell floor and into the shadows. Henry countered with a knee to Humboldt's stomach knocking the wind from him and forcing him down on all fours. Taking his chance of a winning blow Henry brought his foot up towards Humboldt's face. But in doing so Henry slipped in the pool of Alice's blood. With a heavy thud he fell sprawling through the doorway and slid onto the oil covered flagstone.

'AARGH,' Henry bellowed. 'Humboldt leave me be. Go back to the grave whence you came.'

At a run Henry charged. His foot struck Humboldt's discarded lamp shattering the glass shade and freeing the burning wick of its constraints. In an instance Henry's oil covered clothing caught on fire. An unstoppable wave of flame spread over his legs and with incessant speed rose up onto his chest and into his face. With screams of fear and pain Henry's throat and lungs filled with searing heat. Without thinking Humboldt's mind instinctively told him to throw his brother to the ground and help smother the fire. Using his newly acquired jacket he beat at Henry's burning body. The flames beaten out Humboldt watched as a silver chain that held the emerald pendant fell from a smouldering pocket. The pendant that Henry had stolen from him the day he had Jessica murdered. Placing the jewel into his shirt pocket Humboldt looked down at his pain racked brother with hatred and disdain 'For the pendant, Henry? You did all of this for the pendant? Killed Jessica, tried to kill your own son, just so you could play God with other people's lives. You as good as stole these men's souls, Henry. How could you be so evil?' Humboldt felt weak with emotion; he'd lost so much at the hands of his stepbrother. Yet, no matter how much he had come to hate Henry, Humboldt just couldn't bring himself to kill this madman. Barely able to think over the tortuous screams of Henry's agony he had decided what he should do next.

'No,' he told Henry 'no, I can't kill you, but I can choose not to kill you, that much I can do.'

As Humboldt searched Henry's writhing, pain racked body for the keys to Alice's shackles the oil that had been spilled in the passageway was ablaze. Wooden support beams that held the roof up began to burn. Flames spread from post to post. Wood cracked and spat and the flames burned hotter and brighter. The vaulted ceiling filled with a thick choking smoke and like a river it flowed and eddied around the ceiling until it met the stairway. There it became like rapids pouring upwards into to the upper level. Like a probing finger it searched for a way out into the night.

Humboldt slammed shut the rusty steel door and turned the key, locking Henry's burnt and smouldering body in the cell. Chained to the wall Henry floated in and out of consciousness. The agonizing pain would not allow him complete release into unconsciousness. Through the door's small hatch Humboldt looked into the clouded eyes of his deranged brother with pity and tears in his eyes, said,

'You talk of everything I took from you. I took nothing. I tried to love you as a brother but you were so consumed with anger. You were jealous and nothing more. You destroyed everyone who ever loved you.' tears he never thought he would shed for Henry rolled down Humboldt's face. 'I wonder why Henry. WHY?'

A low wet gasping moan came from Henry's red raw throat and burnt blistered lips. Painfully he struggled to lift his head 'Uhmm. I was angry. Our mother was taken from us, ripped out of our lives as if she meant nothing. Father grieved. Grieved for so long he all but forgot about me and Elizabeth. Oh, poor Elizabeth. She was lost without him. Then out of nowhere father brought you and your mother into our house and into our lives. Did he expect us to play happy families, we, his forgotten children? No, I was angry, I wouldn't allow it. Not then, not now, not ever.' A coughing fit sent excruciating pain flooding through Henry's lungs and a stream of fiery blood filled his throat. Vomiting onto the floor his body began to shake in shock. Henry managed to draw in a painful breath. Looking into Humboldt's solemn eyes he pleaded shamefully, 'If you have any pity, Humboldt, then kill me. Kill me now. I beg you.'

With his chin resting on his burnt and charred chest Henry managed one last plea before the darkness took him down into oblivion. 'Please Humboldt,' he whispered, 'do what I could not. Do what I should have done years ago. Kill me.'

Henry's eyes closed and his chest grew still. Humboldt shivered at the sight of Henry's smoking body. It looked as if his spirit had risen and was floating free of his earthly chains. Humboldt did feel pity for him at the end, pity and regret. Closing the steel hatch Humboldt silently prayed for his step brother's soul but still could not forgive him. Turning away Humboldt left Henry in the tomb where he belonged. Here he would remain in the company of those he had murdered. In the hell he had created.

The fire had grown out of control; Humboldt could feel his skin begin to scorch. He would suffer Henry's fate unless he ran for his life through the inferno. Bent double, his hands and forearms covering his head he scurried along the passage heading for the stairway. He hoped young Jeremiah had found his way out. It would be devastating if the boy perished here tonight. It was unthinkable to fail Jessica now. Scrambling under the rolling smoke and choking on the fumes Humboldt made his way up the stairs. His eyes stung, he could barely see even though the fire had lit the passageway up like the infernos of hell. Clear of the top step he fell over the small form of Jeremiah. Unable to see or breathe, Jeremiah had sat against the wall and wrapped his arms around his knees and cried for his mother. Relieved, Humboldt scooped up the terrified little boy and ran blindly through the smoke and out into the cold night. Shocked by the sudden wall of freezing air, Humboldt sat heavily on the ground waiting for the wave of nausea to pass. Coughing severely, his lungs ached as he drew in the frigid night air. Aware that soon the alarm would be raised and that every second counted, he scooped Jeremiah back up and ran over the cobbled ground. At the morgue attendant's wagon Humboldt slid the bolts and opened the door. Placing Jeremiah inside he jumped in behind. The frightened young boy clung to him for dear life. Sitting quietly, stunned beyond words they waited for the attendants to return.

Hidden in the back of the wagon Humboldt hoped they would make their escape without incident and return back to the town of Borden where Humboldt would have to think of what to do next. He hadn't planned beyond the killing of his brother. A disturbing thought suddenly struck him. He hadn't felt Henry's death, he should have felt Henry's death, why hadn't he? He knew that the pendant would have made Henry's passing irrefutable. Humboldt's hand darted to his shirt pocket and his fingers fell upon the familiar shape. He still had it. Did his brother die? Was he in fact dead? There was no longer any way of knowing. Yes, Humboldt assured himself, he was dead. He wasn't convincing, even to himself.

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