There is no better feeling than my knife against a throat, the glimpse of fear in someone's eyes. I love that feeling of power even if it's only temporary, even if it will pass. Every human being hungers for power. The Prince wants to be a king, the farmer wants to be a lord, the student wants to be the master. All I'm looking for is that little glimpse of fear in their eyes, and sometimes I want the world.
"Please, I'm a good man" he says, wincing. Ha, sure you are.
"And I'm a good woman, and the person who sent me is a good man."
"No you're not, you're not a good person." Oh, was that courage in his eyes?
"Then you're neither. Aren't we all the same in the eyes of your lord?" He seems to get smaller in his chair, like a flower dying.
"Don't you dare speak his name, you're a thief, a criminal-"
"A sinner, a demon or even the devil himself?" I offer, leaning over him, letting his blood drop on the carpet. Isn't it fascinating that blood has the colour of love?
"Let me ask you this one time. Where. Is. The. Sword?" I speak slow, as if talking to a child.
"I'd rather die in courage, than live in shame."
Brave little warrior.
"I'm sure you would, but what about your woman, your seven-months pregnant woman?" There it is again, the fear. I lean back, smiling dangerously. I sip that fear, drink it within my brown eyes.
Without a word he gets up, lifts the carpet, and loosens a floorboard. I almost laughed. The most dangerous man in the country keeps something so valuable in his secretary's office, under a carpet.
"Here." He gives me the sword, hands shaking. I grab it, like a hungry wolf. The handle is decorated with ruby, glimmering in the light of a candle, a dark red ruby, like blood.
I feel it coming before it reaches me, the memory of that night, I hear me screaming, I see the blood everywhere. Not now, I tell myself. To focus I cut myself with the sword, two drops of blood hit the ground, in the silence they sound like thunder.
"Thank you very much" I managed to say, casting a smile to the Secretary. He doesn't smile back. Fine. "I'm sure we both agree that we don't want anyone to find out about our little conversation here?"
"Of course not," his voice trembles. Good, be scared of me.
"So you'll think of a story, why you left your office, when you came back, how the sword was stolen?"
"Yes," he said, and you could see in his eyes that he meant it, very good.
"Sarah is a beautiful name for a baby," I say, more a threat than a compliment.
You made it till here 🫶🏼
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