The soldier stumbled and fell, his weapon clattering onto the bodies that covered the floor.
"Please," he whispered. Rook's shadow fell across his fear-stricken face as he stepped closer. "Please don't kill me."
"What's your name, boy?" Rook asked as he wiped the blood from his hands with a white piece of cloth. He seemed like a butcher, satisfied after a long day's work. Somehow, that made him all the more terrifying.
"Jozel Malk, sire."
"Sire?" He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "That's a new one." He threw away the blood-soaked cloth. "I need you to bring your masters a message, Jozel."
Music of the now: Run, by Gnarls Barkley