Bone To Pick
Warning: Story contains homicide and mentions of child abuse.
Things went just as the squire had planned, the lord knight returned weary from his joust. After the squire assisted the knight out of his bearings, breath heaving and voice roaring as the man raved about some loss or another, he stabbed the boiled-blood lord many times in a frenzied rage. Though the knight tried to stop the squire in a valiant effort, the squire was quick and clever. The squire made long slashes at the knight’s arms then kicked him down the floor and seized his large chest. He plunged the dagger down as deeply and quickly as he could, screaming curses at the knight ‘til the squire’s voice grew hoarse. The squire did not relent in his wrath ‘til he felt satisfaction long after the knight’s life had flickered away. Once he did he took a deep breath, feeling unburdened for the first time in a long while. But alas, the squire knew he could not stay in the manor any longer for despite its comforts it filled him with nothing but a chill in his spine and hatred in his heart.
As the squire turned to leave, however, the knight’s spirit appeared in front of him and pointed a finger at the squire. “I curse you, wretched traitor,” bellowed the ghost as his voice boomed painfully in the squire’s ears, each word echoing without as it did within, “to become an omen to those whom you hold dear – to have their walls come crumbling down the moment they lay their whole heart to you, never to feel safe again!”
Wind, that which would be impossible to be gained from within the manor were it not for the vile poultergeist, howled from every which way as the spectre guffawed in sinister delight. The fallen knight’s body surely fell to ashes as his spirit’s laughter turned to pained screaming. His translucent body disintegrated as if it were parchment set ablaze, turning to ashes much like his corporeal was-vessel. And like a rancid cacophony, so too did the squire scream as his veins glowed a cherry red just like the knight's own ashes. A fire blazed from within the squire’s heart and he couldn't help but scratch at it desperately, trying to make it stop. And as the wind turned and turned, so did the former knight’s ashes as its shade turned deeper and deeper into that of blood until finally they withered into nothingness.
And once the devil had taken his payment in full is finally when the wind stilled. And though the squire knew he was doomed, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief.
