I paced around nervously.
What was I doing? Why did I agree to this? Soon the door slammed open forcing to me to face the doorway a silhouette stood ahead.
The figure came forward.
The figure stood still.
The figure lifted their arm.
I quivered a bit and my tremor didn't even stop as he showed me what was in his hand.
"Go, do it," his poisonous voice commanded
"But-,"
His glare shut me up and I took it in my frail, feeble, fragile hands. The weapon was bigger than my palm, the mahogany tint being a stark contrast to my pale olive complexion.
The weight being pulled down was my soul being crushed at the thought of the act I was going to execute.
I slipped it into my torn pockets and walked out into the streets. He gave me one final look before waning into the ghostly room.
YOU ARE READING
The Death of a Prince
Mystery / ThrillerRaphael wakes up to the news of his newborn. But the news of a new life is shrouded in blood of a demised.
