STORY STARTER
A group of spies venture off into unknown territory. Only some come back.
Tell the story of those who were left behind.
Beheaded
“LAIR!”
I chucked the fruit bowl at her face but she ducked just in time and it hit the wall and clattered to the floor. Apples and oranges rolled on the carpet.
Mrs. Bronx had started for the candle stick that was burning faintly. I threw an apple at her but it missed and landed by her feet. She tripped over it and fell to the floor.
Before she could get up, I grabbed the candle stick from its place and blew out the fire. “Tell me where he is or I’ll clobber you with it!”
The woman whimpered and I prepared to swing at her. She scrambled to her feet and sat on the edge of the frilly chair. “H-he-“
“Where is he?”
The woman fell still. “He’s dead.”
The candle fell to the ground by my feet. “No, he’s not.” Yet I believed her. There was no way he was still alive after all of it had happened. “You’re lying.”
The woman shook her head. “He seemed to have suffered many injuries by the time he got here. The empress is merciless with her punishments.” She shuddered. “I was there to witness some of it: the 25 lashings on his back. Then she told me to watch him carefully. She had scheduled a beheading for being caught spying for the wrong side.”
I lost all hope. “So he was beheaded?”
Mrs, B shook her head. “No. He hung himself in the very room he stayed, just hours before his beheading ceremony.”
I couldn’t believe her words, yet I knew she wasn’t lying. I collapsed to the floor, heavy tears running down my face.
The woman didn’t comfort me, nor did she leave.
Without my friend, we didn’t stand a chance.