''It is a dark and snowy night. The bitterly cold wind rushes through the dark, sprawling mansion, rustling papers and knocking vases off of ancient, fragile wooden tables. The building seems to creak as if in pain. The town is utterly devoid of life. But at the far end of the graveyard someone in a strange costume is creeping upon a grave. The person is invisible in the dark of night, only their hood can be seen, but their general shape is clear, that of a large, black and white dog. A strange dog, about two feet tall and with blood running from its mouth, approaches the grave. It lays its front paws on the grave and barks long and hard. After a while it starts growling, then after a while it starts whining. It growls even louder until it reaches its peak, then it whimpers, dejected it lays its head down on the grave and weeps like a child.
"Rex..." a strange voice whispers in the dark. "Rex..." a deep voice echoes through the dark graveyard. "Halt!" another mysterious voice commands. Rex, the dog, lifts his head and looks at the approaching figures. His red eyes shine in the dark and his black mouth opens and closes to reveal his sharp teeth. "What is it Rex?" This question is responded by the dog, for he has recognized the voice. "HONK!" is the command. The dog makes a strange noise and lets out a long, shrill pant. The dog's ears stand back and he pricks his ears forward in joy. "Aha!" a dark figure laughs, then continues, "Well done my dog! Rex! Show them what you can do!" The mysterious figure throws a bone to the dog who runs and fetches the bone from the cold ground buried in snow, then returns to the person. The figure pats the dog on the head and laughs.
"And let us not forget my faithful servant." An icy shrill voice whispers out of a shadowy figure. It was so cold in the graveyard that the soft, light snowflakes were freezing solid around them and the figures were freezing to the touch. The person that had been patting the dog and laughing turns to face the shivering person whose speech had come from. "Show them Hel." The speaker bends down to pat the dog on the head again. This causes an immediate reaction from the dog who snaps his jaws viciously at the figure. The figure jerks back and the dog cowers down and whimpers. "Heel Hel. Halt!" The dog bows its head and whimpers a little. The figure is far away but advancing steadily on the dog and the shimmering black figure. As the figure moves away, its departure is signaled by a gust of cold wind, chilling the dog further. When the wind dies down to a mosquito's whine, the figures stand facing each other across the grave. There is a slight shimmer in the air between them, as if a heat wave is rising up but the cold of night has frozen it solid.
"So you have come to choose?" The figure wearing the black cloak asks the shivering black figure.
"I have." The figure's deep voice replies.
"I am justice." The figure replies.
"You are suppose to be creation," the figure demands.
"I am." The black figure admits.
"So speak and master the power created." The black figure orders.
"I was created to protect, but I have been corrupted by corruption." The figure replies.
"You have become evil, yet you chose it." The black figure says as he stands upright.
"Speak their words and see me as they see me." The figure demands, his voice rising and falling to add emphasis.
"But you chose that which you could not have chosen." The black figure counters.
"What choice do I have?" The figure counters. "I am not the creator, nor could I control the creator if I wanted to. Give me freedom choosing my own path."
"It is all I have to give." The black figure admits.
"I know what you mean." The white figure admits.
"If I could choose my path why didn't I chose a different path. Why did I choose this?" The black figure asks.
"What other choice is there?" The white figure counters.
"You do not understand." The black figure states. "I have been given my freedom and have chosen my own path. I have chosen this path. Do you call this freedom?"
This is their moment of eternal truth and their moment of indecision. They come so close to the truth and then break away from it. Eternity was waiting for the decision and yet, it was a decision that could hardly be made. To choose life and give up one's own choices is to give away one's freedom.
"I choose to answer your riddle with a riddle of my own." The black figure says.
"Tell me." The white figure replies
"What is the difference between justice and righteousness?" The black figure asks.
"You do not believe in the will of righteous?" They black figure asks.
"Riddle me." The white figure replies.
"The difference between justice and righteousness." The black figure continues. "Is that you believe in the will of the righteous, belief, hope and love."
"That is not your riddle." The white figure replies.
"It is the only way you can choose your path." The black figure repeats, "You choose this path because you believe in the will of the righteous and because you believe in them you believe in yourself."
The white figure looks at the black figures cloaked form, it is pure darkness and pure despair.
"I choose your path although it is an evil path. The righteous and I live on the same road. I choose to walk a different road; there is no other road."
"You choose this path because you believe in the wise, both within you and without." The black figure states as he moves closer to the white figure, "You believe yourself wise so you choose a path that thinks itself wise."
"Foolishness, yet that is the path that I choose," the white figure admits. "I believe in the path of Wickedness, yet I will follow it."
"I do not understand." the black figure states. "You have chosen a path that is beyond the path of the righteous because you believe in the wise, the most wise.
