From behind, I cut her a wide, red smile – so angry was I that she had dared call me rogue. She is the daughter of my Lord’s enemy. Her blood now paints my forearm and leg. She exhales her last through folds of flesh parted by my blade. Blood-flecked spittle sprays, and the sound echoes in my mind. I am dead once word of my failure reaches the King. He’ll have my head boiled and spiked outside his gate, a warning to others about self control. There’s no place to hide. With one swift slash, two lives have ended.
My Rage My Own Demise by Adam Francis SmithPosted: February 1, 2016 by Shade's Progress in Medieval Times
Tags: 100 word story, Adam Francis Smith, attack, blood, creative writing, dead, death, flash fiction, microfiction, murder, rogue, scrawl brawl, short story, sword, Vincent Crampton, warrior