His face was shrouded in shadow, his hair like a white-hot flame in the pitch dark. "Are you looking for me, Utterson?"
I began to answer, but as that voice seeped into my head, I could not seem to form a coherent thought. His was the strangest voice I'd ever heard. It was at once hollow and strained, but resonant like the lowest note on a piano.
"You know me?", I asked, suddenly enraged. Had Henry told him about me and if so, why? Henry couldn't even stand to be honest with himself about his feelings for me, and yet he'd clearly told this boy something. "Come out of the dark and show yourself," I demanded. "I could," the young man said. "Byt where's the fun in that?"
I began to answer, but as that voice seeped into my head, I could not seem to form a coherent thought. His was the strangest voice I'd ever heard. It was at once hollow and strained, but resonant like the lowest note on a piano.
"You know me?", I asked, suddenly enraged. Had Henry told him about me and if so, why? Henry couldn't even stand to be honest with himself about his feelings for me, and yet he'd clearly told this boy something. "Come out of the dark and show yourself," I demanded. "I could," the young man said. "Byt where's the fun in that?"
