Corpses dangle in the trees with hollow eyes and rotted flesh.
It was not so much the sight but rather the smell of the decomposing bodies that made my eyes burn and my breakfast reappear on the sidewalk.
The throaty laughter arises from behind me.
"Now what's this? This poor fellow can't even handle a few mere corpses! How could we possibly take him on?" the old man laughs, his glasses fogged over from the morning mist.
"Now, now old man, how often is it we come about someone willing to do dirty work of this sorts? You forget that he's still new to this. In time he will get used to it. Perhaps." the young man replies, his voice etched with laughter.
Their words resound in my skull, making me feel sicker than I already am. What is this the job that father wants me to do? Is it always going to be as dreadful as this? I swat a fly that buzzes over from the bodies, then immediately regret it. I touched something that had touched... Those things.
"Yes," the old man finishes, "I think in time he will be a fine executioner."
YOU ARE READING
The Most Random Book Ever
RandomA book of random stories that I'll probably never finish. Some of them I wrote when I was nine and ten, so that explains the poor writing skills.
