Rule’s.
Don’t ever make eye contact.
Never ask, only respond.
Don’t put your hands together.
Someone must always be facing him.
You ready?
I guess. I wish I could have something to write with.
Nope. Trust me. This experience will be very memorable.
The guard turned and stared into the camera. With a firm node a bell rang out, signaling the door.
Remember the Rules and you’ll be alright.
They call him the magician. An assassin that could create weapons from unobserved locations.
Now, I’m finally able to ask. Able to ask how he would’ve done it.
Only problem was the rules.
Don’t ask only answer.
“So, you’re the one who’s been begging the guards to have a chat with me.”
He was tall. Too tall. Scary tall. Bald.
How did I know he was bald?
“I know what you’re going to ask of me. How would I have done it?”
My eyes quickly fluttered to his chest. remembered and brought them down to his shoes.
He didn’t have any shoes.
“Simple my dear Watson. Elementary. But would you really like to know?”
Yes, I would.
“Then let me show you. Close your hands.”
One of the rules.
“I can’t do that.”
“Of corse you can.”
“But the guard.”
“What guard?”
I quickly turn my head behind me. Alone, when had he left? Had he ever even been there?
“Well? Close your hands.”
I’m sorry I ca-.
“I said close them!”
His voice boomed in the small cement room. If out of fear. Or a command given. I grasped my hands together. Blood.
“Now, slowly pull them apart.”
As I slowly pulled my hands away from each other I saw a silhouette. Slowly growing from a blackness betwixt my clutched hands.
I was then shown the answer. A blade sat in my palms.
“How?”
Eyes locked onto one another. Blade drawn across my throat.
“Like that.”