The Validestine Fortress
- Reads 37
- Votes 2
- Parts 3
From John's stance on the slippery cobblestone walkway, he could just make out a young girl peeking out of the highest window of the ghost castle. Right when he took a step forward, a figure obscured by the shadows clamped a pale looking hand around the young girl's mouth. Immediately, John reached into his pocket to phone Sherlock. When he did, a bloodied spear was protruding from the girl's torso. Blood rushed from her mouth, as she collapsed. The next instant, the shadow man had vanished just like that. John stood on the wet cobblestone path in complete, utter shock, and many unanswered questions.
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Moonlight glinted off of the sharp tip of the knife. It was clothed in the blackness of her dried blood. The cloaked figure curled his lips as he wiped the knife off using his jacket. Tonight he would be praised. Tonight he would be honored for his kill. She was on the top of the society's list. He didn't know why and frankly he didn't care as long as he got his pay. He sheathed his knife and took the girls' bloodied wrists in his hands. He dragged her into the open casket and locked it shut. As the midnight clouds began to cry tears, he shoveled dirt into the small hole where the casket lay. He threw the shovel and his blood covered gloves in the muddy duffel bag. Walking over the bridge he found various large rocks and shoved them in the bag, making it almost too heavy for him to carry. His dark, dangerous eyes gleamed as he threw the bag into the river and watched it sink into darkness.
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