Death at Midnight

Death at Midnight

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, May 3, 2019
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Fiction
Horror
My father was murdered at the stroke of midnight. He made sure to wait until the ringing of the bell could mask any sounds made and left the moment the ringing stopped. I watched from the wardrobe as his throat was slit and his cries were drowned out by the tolling of the bell. I watched as the man pulled a match box from his pocket and set his cigarette alite as though there was nothing wrong. I watched as he walked away, creating a mess as he threw every object that he could in anger. I watched as he turned to marvel at his masterpiece, only unable to see my trembling form thanks to the shadows that shrouded the cupboard I was huddled in. I saw his face in the moonlight as his eyes glinted in what I could only describe as pure evil. I saw my father's best friend, now a murderer only because my father could not save his wife from illness. I vowed, in that moment, that I would get my revenge. I vowed that he would reap what he has sewn. I vowed that I would murder him with my own blade- drown him in his own blood. - - Currently under A LOT of editing. I wrote this in year 11 for a one hour test and quite liked the story so I wanted to post it. Now I'm trying to make it the best I can - -
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Betrayal swirls in her eyes briefly before turning back into fury. Her hands roughly fist my hair tilting my head back, allowing the blade more access to my throat. "You bastard. You hurt him, didn't you?" "I assure you I did not force him to help me." I stare up at Wrens tormented expression, almost enjoying the position she has me in. Her eyes narrow as she leans closer to me, almost inches away, "liar." My response cuts short as a she takes the dagger from my throat and drives the blunt end into the back of my head. The feeling of falling eludes me, as the darkness once circling me now invades my mind. ............................ Waiting is not an easy task, especially when you are planning on murdering the Queen. It has been 14 years since Wren lost everything to Morana's reign. Her home, her father, her hope. Until one day a cloaked man enters her favorite tavern searching for her, he brings along that missing hope she has needed all these years. But in true Wren fashion, she instead attacks him in an alley and ties him up in her room. Because lets face it, how can she trust a word out of Morana's son's mouth.

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