An arrow shot her right through her stomach.
She gasped in pain and looked up to see a dark silhouette slip in the shadows.
She fell to the floor, her hands desperately clawing at the dark red carpet she once walked on, but what was now soaked in her blood.
No one was nearby to help, but there was little they could do if they were.
Blood began to spew from her mouth.
The very mouth that condemned so many people to death, the mouth that spat at her people, and the mouth where she took her final breath.
Her hands stopped moving, her gasps of pain fell silent, and the Queen was no more.
She had died a slow and painful death, no more than what she deserved.
Her people were now free from her wicked rule.
Her region of terror was now over.
YOU ARE READING
Collection Of Dark POVs. Vol. 1
Short Story''Darling, if your looks could kill, this ballroom would suffer a massacre,'' he mutters, the corners of his lips lifting. You smirk. ''Ah, but where's the fun in doing it that way.''
