torsdag den 27. januar 2011


    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

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