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| Horror and Thriller Flash Fiction posted November 25, 2014 |
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Short Story
Off With His Head
by michaelcahill
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
These many weeks I've endured the stench of these catacombs, the resting place of those unfit to bury. Such is the judgment of this King. Those who don't suit the King are killed and disposed of here.
"What is your pleasure good King Muertovani? A series of pummeling blows from jugglers who entertain you with their skills? Crushing skulls without dropping a pin … such skill, such merriment. Perhaps a simple sword through the neck. A head can roll so capriciously with a surprising expression."
Or, as in my case, a simple sword through the belly. Then the honor of being tossed down here on a pile of rotting flesh. Is it fortuitous I managed to hold onto life? It remains to be seen. I wouldn't call myself exactly human any longer. I anxiously await fresh victims. The meat is tasty when it is warm. I admit a fondness for liver, providing it is young. It seems to toughen with age.
It revulsed me at first, but hunger won out. Before long, what once seemed abhorrent became the norm. Fortunately, the good King has a penchant for murder. I am well fed. Of course, the quality of fortune is dependent on circumstance. For me, a timely beheading is lucky indeed. For the poor soul who wished to have his head attached a while longer, not so lucky.
Well, my human ladder is ready. One corpse in, one corpse out, a fair exchange I would say. Quite sporting of these folks to lend a hand … an arm, leg, rib … well, so many of their parts to this endeavor.
Here they come. The door opens. Oh, the light is blinding. I wedge the leg bone in … yes! They walk away unaware. Patience, Fortunado Van Jans. You mustn't be seen. Lift up slightly. Yes … all clear. All alone and out the door. Rest assured my beloved King, you will see me soon.
~~~~~~~Several days later
The King is in good spirits this evening. He has sent several to the catacombs already. But none by beheading. The swordsman grows restless.
Finally the time has come. The good King Muertovani stands and addresses the merry crowd, "This man knows not the proper payment of respect to a King. Swordsman, come forth."
The swordsman comes forward. "Kneel before your King." He shouts loudly.
The King is surprised having never heard the swordsman speak before. "Yes, come closer, kneel before your King." The King looks over the crowd in triumph as the man now lays at his feet.
The swordsman looks to his King.
"Off with his head!"
The swordsmen draws his sword high and brings it swiftly through the neck of the King. The Kings head is frozen in a look of astonishment rolling across the floor. All eyes look upon it in disbelief.
It occurs to some in the crowd to look up and see who has just assassinated the King. No one is there. The swordsman has vanished.
Assassinate Me A Thriller! writing prompt entry
These many weeks I've endured the stench of these catacombs, the resting place of those unfit to bury. Such is the judgment of this King. Those who don't suit the King are killed and disposed of here.
"What is your pleasure good King Muertovani? A series of pummeling blows from jugglers who entertain you with their skills? Crushing skulls without dropping a pin … such skill, such merriment. Perhaps a simple sword through the neck. A head can roll so capriciously with a surprising expression."
Or, as in my case, a simple sword through the belly. Then the honor of being tossed down here on a pile of rotting flesh. Is it fortuitous I managed to hold onto life? It remains to be seen. I wouldn't call myself exactly human any longer. I anxiously await fresh victims. The meat is tasty when it is warm. I admit a fondness for liver, providing it is young. It seems to toughen with age.
It revulsed me at first, but hunger won out. Before long, what once seemed abhorrent became the norm. Fortunately, the good King has a penchant for murder. I am well fed. Of course, the quality of fortune is dependent on circumstance. For me, a timely beheading is lucky indeed. For the poor soul who wished to have his head attached a while longer, not so lucky.
Well, my human ladder is ready. One corpse in, one corpse out, a fair exchange I would say. Quite sporting of these folks to lend a hand … an arm, leg, rib … well, so many of their parts to this endeavor.
Here they come. The door opens. Oh, the light is blinding. I wedge the leg bone in … yes! They walk away unaware. Patience, Fortunado Van Jans. You mustn't be seen. Lift up slightly. Yes … all clear. All alone and out the door. Rest assured my beloved King, you will see me soon.
~~~~~~~Several days later
The King is in good spirits this evening. He has sent several to the catacombs already. But none by beheading. The swordsman grows restless.
Finally the time has come. The good King Muertovani stands and addresses the merry crowd, "This man knows not the proper payment of respect to a King. Swordsman, come forth."
The swordsman comes forward. "Kneel before your King." He shouts loudly.
The King is surprised having never heard the swordsman speak before. "Yes, come closer, kneel before your King." The King looks over the crowd in triumph as the man now lays at his feet.
The swordsman looks to his King.
"Off with his head!"
The swordsmen draws his sword high and brings it swiftly through the neck of the King. The Kings head is frozen in a look of astonishment rolling across the floor. All eyes look upon it in disbelief.
It occurs to some in the crowd to look up and see who has just assassinated the King. No one is there. The swordsman has vanished.
"What is your pleasure good King Muertovani? A series of pummeling blows from jugglers who entertain you with their skills? Crushing skulls without dropping a pin … such skill, such merriment. Perhaps a simple sword through the neck. A head can roll so capriciously with a surprising expression."
Or, as in my case, a simple sword through the belly. Then the honor of being tossed down here on a pile of rotting flesh. Is it fortuitous I managed to hold onto life? It remains to be seen. I wouldn't call myself exactly human any longer. I anxiously await fresh victims. The meat is tasty when it is warm. I admit a fondness for liver, providing it is young. It seems to toughen with age.
It revulsed me at first, but hunger won out. Before long, what once seemed abhorrent became the norm. Fortunately, the good King has a penchant for murder. I am well fed. Of course, the quality of fortune is dependent on circumstance. For me, a timely beheading is lucky indeed. For the poor soul who wished to have his head attached a while longer, not so lucky.
Well, my human ladder is ready. One corpse in, one corpse out, a fair exchange I would say. Quite sporting of these folks to lend a hand … an arm, leg, rib … well, so many of their parts to this endeavor.
Here they come. The door opens. Oh, the light is blinding. I wedge the leg bone in … yes! They walk away unaware. Patience, Fortunado Van Jans. You mustn't be seen. Lift up slightly. Yes … all clear. All alone and out the door. Rest assured my beloved King, you will see me soon.
~~~~~~~Several days later
The King is in good spirits this evening. He has sent several to the catacombs already. But none by beheading. The swordsman grows restless.
Finally the time has come. The good King Muertovani stands and addresses the merry crowd, "This man knows not the proper payment of respect to a King. Swordsman, come forth."
The swordsman comes forward. "Kneel before your King." He shouts loudly.
The King is surprised having never heard the swordsman speak before. "Yes, come closer, kneel before your King." The King looks over the crowd in triumph as the man now lays at his feet.
The swordsman looks to his King.
"Off with his head!"
The swordsmen draws his sword high and brings it swiftly through the neck of the King. The Kings head is frozen in a look of astonishment rolling across the floor. All eyes look upon it in disbelief.
It occurs to some in the crowd to look up and see who has just assassinated the King. No one is there. The swordsman has vanished.
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Writing Prompt In 500 words or less, write a thriller (or/and horror) prose involving an assassin/assassination or hitman/hitwoman. No poetry or script, please. Be creative and have fun! :) |
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