Tuesday, March 18, 2014

The Execution

He opened his cupboard and withdrew the bundle.

As he parted the cloth,he thought of all the killing he had done.

He had no regrets.

The blade was clean. It had been washed carefully by him after every time. Dried blood would mean a dull edge.

A dull edge just causes an unnecessary amount of pain.Get it over quick and smooth.

He sat on his porch and slid the whetstone over the blade.

Quick and methodical.

As muscle memory took over,he let his thoughts wander. The dark green hills,rolling under a perennial stormy sky. The gods had cursed the land to darkness.

Smoke started to spiral out of the chimney behind him,light at first, but soon it was thick enough to join the storm clouds in the sky.

It was almost time.

He went to the back of his stead,where she was waiting.She was having a drink of water.

She seemed calm,almost accepting of her destiny.

She didnt see him coming until it was too late.

He pulled her head back placed the silver blade under her neck,and in one flick,it was done.

A flash of the light catching the blade,a spurt of blood so bright red,it was almost pink and a squawk.

It was done.

Chicken Dinner.

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