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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #1157822
Death is the ultimate challenge.
Lee sat gracefully upon the wooden chair, her head tilted up projecting her pointed chin into the air. She ignored the makeshift cloth restraints made from her bed sheet that she had not long ago been sleeping under. Firmly and expertly tied, they held her thin wrists and legs securely to the chair as she sat waiting, knowing fully what was to come.

Her pale face was calm and smooth, her olive-colored eyes staring straight ahead into the darkness as a raspy, masculine voice emanated from the darkness about her. “Do you know why I am here?” Lee didn’t say anything. She knew exactly why the possessor of that harsh voice was here and she had no intention of repeating it for the speaker’s pleasure.

When Lee remained silent, the voice spoke again, “Did you not hear me?” Lee still remained silent, not moving except to breath and blink. “Why will you not answer me? Does your fear make you incapable of speech?”

Lee said nothing for a few moments, until finally her voice came forth, calm and steady, with even a hint of perverse amusement. “I’m not afraid, of you,” her eyes darted the right of the room, “of anybody.” They darted to the other side of the room. Her eyes only met darkness in either direction. She blinked and her eyes were brought back to their original position, starting straight ahead. “I know why you are here and you know why you are here. Why don’t we quit the bullshit and get right down to it, hmm?”

The voice laughed, a low echoing sound that sounded like the leaves of a tree rustling in the wind. Lee noticed that whoever the speaker was had shifted to her left, but she kept her eyes straight. “I suppose you are right,” the voice had shifted behind her, and had drawn closer, “We should stop the talking, someone outside might hear, and then my whole job would be in ruins.” The voice paused a moment, “I am surprised that you have not screamed yet. Most of my targets scream for aid fr-”

Lee interrupted the voice, “I thought we agreed to just get this over with.”

Again, the voice laughed, “Patience, my dear.”

It was Lee’s turn to laugh, “That word is foreign to me, sir. So, if you don’t mind, let us finish this.”

“Very well,” the voice said. Lee could feel the breath of the speaker push against her hair near the nape of her neck. A few moments later, a warm hand rested upon her shoulder to pull her auburn hair away from her neck, gently caressing her smooth skin as it did so. Lee felt lips upon her ear as the voice spoke once more, “You have been chosen to die, my dear. May the devil’s arms envelope you.” It came out in a whisper and sent a shiver down Lee’s spine. Her back arched slightly, her chest thrusting outward. The assassin’s hand slid from her shoulder to just below her neck, pushing her back against the chair once more.

Then Lee felt the cold metal of a dagger upon her throat, her eyes remained focused forward. She wondered briefly what death felt like and what would await her in the afterworld.

A small smile suddenly appeared upon her lips. Death would most definitely be a challenge.

The excruciating pain came then, searing across her neck.

But what the hell, Lee loved challenges.
© Copyright 2006 Gwen Traynor (era_noctis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1157822-The-Challenge