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Willow pressed the syringe slightly, and a little liquid squirted out of it. He flicked it with his finger, giving it a glare deadlier than the liquid itself. Half his face was covered in shadow, and the other half was lit by the moon coming from the window next to him. On the desk before the window, was a plate of strawberries. Mike's favorite. They were iced, and looking deliciously irresistible. No one would resist them. This time, his plan wouldn't fail. He was in danger because of two stupid mistakes he made. He had been so confident that Grandfather Vincent wouldn't wake up in years to come, and had gloated happily about his achievement in putting him to sleep. The second mistake was putting stupid people up to the task of finishing him. He wouldn't do the same with Mike.
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