This room will be your resting place.

Two souls stood by a bed, clothes in arms and half on body. On the right side, a knight stood, sweating and panting. On the left side, the matron stood, sobbing and hysterical. Two souls stood by the bed, quivering, afraid of what was to come of them.

“Are those tears of shame or is it a side effect of the exposure?”

One soul stood in the doorway, firearm in one hand, door key in the other. An ugly expression covered the king’s face, molded by the many emotions felt. Betrayed by one, anger at both and sadden by what was to come of them all. Three souls stood in one room, with two choices at their feet.

Firearm rose to shoulders length, swaying from one soul to the other. Demands made to the other man.

“Give back what you’ve stolen from me; Give back what rightfully belongs to me.”

A short paused before letting out her frustration, all red in the face, while hand against chest. An Objection made against the demands heard.

“I am not an object; I am not something that can be claim.”

Slowly guide over to left side of the bed, the knight stands in as a shield to the matron.
A response made to the demands given.

“She has given herself to me. Either move on or pass judgment.”

One eye closed, steady the wrist, taken aim and a deep breath before passing judgment. Pierced the matron’s shield and so the matron sobbed, now holding her briefly loved knight in arms. Two souls stood in one room, one soul in arms, its life slowly depleting.

End.