Vilda Varhadt

The 3x3 meter room felt tense, with dried blood, tightly tied ropes and a dying person sitting limply on the hard and cold floor. In front of him, the figure of a man wearing black beads was staring at him intently.

"You look like him." The man's voice was hoarse, he said the same thing over and over again.

"SHUT UP!" Harvis, the man with black beads, was angry, he kicked the man again.

"Eugh! You look like him, you told me to." Again and again the man kept spouting nonsense.

Harvis kicked him hard, "Bastard!" He was never this angry, he was known for his calm but tense demeanor.

Horse hooves could be heard from a distance, it seemed like they would arrive soon. After checking that the bastard was dead he cleaned his shoes, not wanting the bastard's blood to get on them. The bastard's words really made him angry, he was not an evildoer, he had never betrayed his kingdom. He even joined the war, putting his life on the line easily.

Click! The sound of the door knob turning. The door opened and four people entered the room they had rented as a place for interrogation. It appeared that the two people in the room looked very different, one of them was sitting with an angry look, while the other was limp, covered in dried blood, lifeless.

"Is he dead?" Jack asked.

This story is under revision🙏🏻