Murder
The shadows in the moonlight, the groaning of the trees. A scratchy sound, a clinking noise, as your rusty blade pulls free. A muffled footstep as you look around make sure the area is clear, then again your mind plays such tricks that you can't even trust what you hear.
A murder was commited here, you've stumbled upon the scene of the crime. You don't know how long it's been but you don't really care to pass the time. Besides, I don't think dead people are very friendly to the living, they allready ask to much of you and expect you to keep giving and keep giving.
So I guess let's just leave him here, no one will ever know. Unless of course as it usually does, the spring sun starts melting all the snow. Maybe they'll think it was an accident, or maybe they'll think a bear got him. But the one thing that I hope they don't think is that I drew my gun and shot him.
