Born to be a Bad One

For six weeks, the citizens of the Northern Shiverpeaks have been under the rule of Francois The Unstable, a Count that is, well, unstable. While the peasants fend for their lives under roofs of mud and grass, the Count sleeps with a faint smile upon his face, inside the Castle Royal Quarters. A small boy wanders around the Castle Courtyard with a suspiciously large basket, gazing upon the guards as they slowly drift off to dream...

Guard One: (Slowly falling asleep) You, there! The one with the...uh...hair! Get over here!

Small boy: Yes?

Guard One: What is your purpose here?

Small Boy: Well, my mother says I was born to grow into a man and make a big, happy family, with one boy, a girl, and a dog named-

Guard One: No, no! Why are you in the Castle Courtyard, you twit?

Small Boy: Oh, I understand your question. I was sent to deliver these assorted fruits and vegetables to the Count.

The boy holds up a basket about the size of his head, and shakes it.

Small Boy: See?

Guard One: At this late of hour? And how in the name of Grenth did you get into the Courtyard, anyway?

Small Boy: Well, you see, the Gods gave me these itty-bitty twigs, call "legs," and...

Guard One: You back-sassing imbecile! I should slit your throat for the responses I am hearing!

Small Boy: Why, I believe it is the other way around, with all due respect.

The boy opens the basket and takes out a very large, sharp dagger, that seems to be tipped with poison.

Small Boy: Oh, wrong "utencil." We wouldn't want to waste such a good weapon on you, would we?

Once again, he reaches into the basket, this time pulling out a thin, polished dagger.

Small Boy: Ah, here we are.

Guard One: (With puzzled look on face) What in the name of- you're going to kill me? AHAHAHAHA! That's hilarous! AHAHAHA!

The guard bursts out laughing.

Small Boy: Well, might as well do the deed while he's in a good mood!

The boy throws the dagger directy at the guard, and the dagger plunges into the guard's stomach.

Guard One: AHAHA-huh? (Looks down) You...I...but...

The guard falls against the wall, dead.

Small Boy: Now, on to the Count.

Guard Two: Not so fast, you murderer! I saw what you did, killing that-wait...you're just a boy? How did you...oh forget the questions! You're off to the dungeon!

Small Boy: (Turns around, and raises eyebrow) I would kill you, but my blade has never pricked the skin of a...virgin.

The boy snickers and walks through the doors to the Castle Hall.

Guard Two: (Confused, embarassed look on face) I...he...

The guard sprints away, not looking back.

While entering the Castle Hall, the small boy sees a servant carrying a large platter with turkey, ham, boar meat, and other foods.

Small Boy: (To the servant) A fine dish for the Count, I would suppose?

Servant: (Surprised to see the boy) Why, yes...and whom might you be, my young child?

Small Boy: I am called by the name of Arvacius. You wouldn't happen to know where the Count's quarters are, would you?

Servant: Well, actually, I'm on my way to the Royal Quarters right now. You may come, if you like.

Arvacius: That would be wonderful. Are there any especially dark or...hidden places we could use to walk to the quarters? For the sake of the other residents in this wonderful Castle?

Servant: Why, aren't you the sweetest. I use a secret passageway to the Private Quarters myself, along with the other servants. Follow me, dear.

Arvacius follows the servant, watching out for other guards or staff. After seeing that no one's around, he bends over, and grabs ahold of his own throat.

Servant: Oh, Dwayna save him! My boy, what be the matter?

Arvacius: I...can't...breathe...

As the servant comes to aid him, Arvacius reaches into her pocket, takes out they key to the Private Quarters, and slowly stands back up, showing relief.

Servant: Are you alright, dear boy?

Arvacius: Yes, yes, I think I am fine. Those berries I ate earlier must have upset my stomach.

Arvacius raises his arm, and slams it down against the servant's neck. The servant blacks out.

Arvacious Too simple...

Arvacius continues on to the Count's Quarters. When he arrives at the door, he presses his ear against it, and listens. Nothing. He slowly puts the key into the lock, turns it, and the door opens with a creak. Arvacius sneaks into the room, and walks over the the Count's bed. The Count is fast asleep, his mouth gaping open as he snores.

Arvacius: What a disgusting sight...I will be happy to kill this parasite.

Arvacius reaches into his basket, takes out the poison-tipped dagger, and lifts it, ready to strike...



To be Continued...

Ooo nice! Hi Caster! lol I found your story. That part about the virgin cracked me up. I like this, you've got real talent. You've inspired me to start my own story. I think I'll do just that.

Heh, I'm glad you like it, Tender. I need to get back to this story, it's been a while...hopefully I'll write a longer sequel sometime.

very interesting, i liked it. i hope for more^^

That's pretty funny how u say to be continued and no1 picks it up for 3 months