The Usurper

We’ll call this Day 5.5 of the 30 Reblogs of November shall we…

Made of sticks and stones

I opened the door to a stranger. I could tell he was not local due to the bluish tinge to his face which obscured his features and the severed head that he held up by the hair in his left hand. I recognised the severed head immediately for it was my brother.

I had not seen my brother for over thirty years and time had not been kind to him. There were maggots where his eyes once had been and bluebottles crawled leisurely in and out of his mouth.

“Darius,” the stranger spoke, though the voice was that of my brother “it is time for you to come join me beneath the green valleys where the River Styx flows.”

“You are mistaken.” I replied shaking my head “The deal was signed with blood; yours, your children, our Mother and Father. My victory in battle and life assured for your blood…

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