It was evening, by now the corpse had been taken out. Now it only left Lucius and his reoccurring thoughts, he brushed his hair back, the flecks of light from the seam in the curtains hanging over the windows shining on his golden locks. He slammed his fist down on his desk in frustration, drawing blood from his knuckles, staining the cloth draped over the table. Pushing his chair away from the desk and standing up, he sighed.
"In truth, hope hath vanished, for I am utterly clueless as to her demise!"
("I have ran out of hope, i truly have no idea how she perished!")
He whined to himself, cupping his face in his hands before turning to the flask of ink remaining from when he was previously writing, his eyes widening at the sight.
"Verily, the ink! Oh, woe upon woe, the ink! Foolish am I, for it is indeed the ink, plain as day!"
("Of course, the ink! Oh, my oh my, the ink! I'm so stupid, of course it is the ink!")
He berated himself, now feeling rather foolish. He took off running, stumbling into the classroom and site of the crime, kneeling down to the ink and desperately scooping it up with his flask.
YOU ARE READING
The Ink River
Mystery / ThrillerTaking place in the Shakespearean town of Aquiliea, a cold air wafts through the village, as tragedy strikes the towns Ludus Litterarius (school), for the beloved teacher, aeliana, has perished, an unknown reason, now we must find the culprit. Luciu...
