Double Murder

"We will have him dead by tomorrow night," said Muhammad, in a serious tone.

"How will you possibly kill the king? He is the most powerful man in the world, there is no way-"

"He killed my family," snapped Muhammad. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to get revenge."

A large cloud of fog filled the room in the dark night. Hassan and Akram sat quietly as Muhammad announced his plans.

"We will go to the kingdom and make our way to the throne," stated Muhammad.

Akram, with a worried expression on his face, looked at Muhammad.

"But the kingdom is very heavily secured, it won't be easy to get to him," cautioned Akram.

"I bribed many guards, there should be an easy way to reach the throne," explained Muhammad. "If you want something to happen, all you need is money."

The king had Muhammad's family killed because they were rich. He wanted all the wealth and power to himself.

In the dark city of Gerrha, the king was the most feared, but also the most hated. He wore a dark red surcoat along with a shiny gold crown. He was a huge man with a big black beard. Veins popped out of his huge tanned arms. A look of hatred was always set on his face. His eyes sparked fire.

Darkness filled the alley as Muhammad and Hassan were walking.

"I talked to Akram, he said he would be busy the whole day," said Hassan with a worried face.

 Muhammad let out a deep sigh. "We need him, he's the only one who knows how to use a bow."

"Yes, I know, but it's still possible. Let's use the sword I got from my uncle," insisted Hassan.

"That sounds fine. We will meet at your house in a few hours and enter the kingdom around midnight," declared Muhammad.

This was the day. In eight hours, Muhammad, with the help of Hassan, would be fighting the king for revenge.

The sun shone through the window on Akram as he sat.

"They need me," mumbled Akram. "I just can't, Muhammad always uses me."

Muhammad and Akram had a bad past. Akram felt like Muhammad would always mistreat him. Muhammad was strong, rich, and smart while Akram was a poor, weak, and unimportant person. Akram envied him.

An old lamp let off light in the room's darkness as Muhammad and Hassan were going through the plan.

"There is a clear route on the left side of the kingdom. The paid guards know we're coming. When we reach him, I will rush him with the sword and you back me up with the knife. After we kill him, Gerrha will be revolutionized and I will get my revenge!"

Muhammad and Hassan hurried through the side of the kingdom. The beautiful moon was up in the black sky. The kingdom was massive but with the help of the guards he bribed, Muhammad knew where he was going. Muhammad and Hassan wandered around for a while before they entered a short hallway with a red carpet and stone walls. The carpet led to a large throne. Along the throne was a large sword, one which made Hassan's look like a toy.

The king, in a deep and serious voice, asked, "What are you two doing here?"

"I have come here to get revenge," responded Muhammad. "You killed my family and you will pay."

The cold and dark room was lightly lit up by a few torches on the wall.

"You're kidding me," said the king with a smirk on his face.

Hassan, with shaky legs, turned to Muhammad and asked, "I'm ready when you're ready." Muhammad nodded as a sign of approval.

Muhammad rushed toward the king with his sword out ready to slash him. The king quickly stood up, grabbed his sword, and slashed Muhammad across the chest. Muhammad dropped to the carpet, blood everywhere.

"You fool!" bellowed the king.

"What have you done?" asked Hassan frantically.

"If you want to survive, leave before I kill you along with him."

Muhammad hadn't died from the slash though, he put his head up desperate for air.

"Don't kill Muhammad please," begged Hassan.

The king stared at Muhammad before he put his sword on his neck.

"Please don't kill me," mumbled Muhammad.

"This will be your last day alive. Say your goodbyes to your friend before-"

The king fell on his knees, an arrow went through his chest. Behind the king was Akram, holding a bow.

"Akram!" exclaimed Hassan.

"Stop!" cautioned Akram. "Muhammad, you've always treated me wrong. You will pay for it. Now it's my turn to get revenge."  Akram was very emotional, tears were streaming on his angry face.

"Akram, please!" urged Muhammad. "What have I done? We're friends!"

"A friend would never treat me like how you treated me," cried Akram.

Muhammad's body dropped completely, an arrow through his head. Akram walked away, while Hassan rushed over to Muhammad's dead body.

Akram had killed Muhammad.

He just walked away into the sunset.