He caressed the woman's skull, not seeing death at all, but still seeing his mother, with soft skin and that kind and loving gaze that had only once - the last time - been tainted by horror. On that distant night, she had screamed before collapsing to the ground, crying in pain. Even in her agony, she had continued to pretend everything was okay, just so that he, at the tender age of four, wouldn't be afraid.