He sits proudly on his crown. His legs splayed wide and one strong hand holding a golden cup full of expensive red wine. Eyes downcast, lips pulled to the side in a deadly smirk. He snaps his fingers and the goblet disappears, leaving a trail of black smoke in its place. He stands and raises his eyes to match my own, eyes swarming with pools of gold, shifting between anger and curiosity. He tilts his head in wonder, why haven't you run yet? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I match his gaze and raise my blade, pointing it towards his heart. He takes slow, taunting steps my direction until the tip of the blade is touching his chest, burrowing into the tan flesh. Captivated, I watch as a trail of black blood draws a path from the cut into his shirt, staining the fabric. Smiling, I drop the blade and watch it clatter to the ground.
"I have been wanting to meet you for a very long time."
