Kerebos stared into the deep greenness of the looking glass. He curled a lip to display razor sharp teeth with diamond bright edges. He was the High King’s hunting hound, who brought instant death wherever his master decreed. But he hunted not for eating meat. Man was his prey. The murderer. The rapist. The thief. The old. The young. The guilty? The innocent? He knew not, nor did he question.
In another place and another time, another killer watched himself in a broken shard of greenish mirror. In that world, when duty called, Spot the terrier went to hunt rats.
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