It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When I saw Bellam – gods, the years have been unkind to him – I never… Well, I thought of happier times. Save the princess, defeat the warlord, retrieve the treasure; sex, violence, and greed. It never mattered why we went, just that we went.
It doesn’t matter now.
Wooden door. Iron hinges. Kid’s stuff. I’ve done this a hundred, a thousand times before.
Pain. The ring digs into my palm. The other hangs around my neck; I’ve never taken mine off.
She did.
And now we are here.
Knock, knock, boys. We’re going down.
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Inspired by a contest over on rpg.net which I don't have much investment in, but which did provide today's spark. You takes 'em where you finds 'em, I say.
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DP FICTION #120B: “In His Image” by R. Haven
5 days ago
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