Please, R&R! And tell me, should I add more of a story to this in my spare time?
When people think of Artemis’s death, they think of something dramatic; something clever. No. It wasn’t like that.
His cold body, cleaned of bloodstain, lay stone silent in the casket. He was dressed in a fine suit- like always. He almost could have been sleeping. But the real Artemis wouldn’t be so careless.
I approched him, thinking. He was careless enough to die. He could weasel his way past the best security in the world, invent anything imaginable -kidnap a very certain elf- and yet he strolled into death’s hands. The worst part was, he knew where he was going. Artemis knew he was going to die.
I will never forget what I saw when I looked at him for the last time. It scarred me, no pun intended. Dead, not-Artemis, was holding the last thing live Artemis ever held: a knife. The knife he used to kill himself.
I twirled the knife between my fingers. It was rusted with tears and stained with blood. My tears, and my blood. Holly’s words hung in the air, and rang in my ears. Here they came again: I don’t care, Artemis, go live with Minerva! I. Don’t. Care! And then I thought about Holly. I wonder if she will miss me. Goodbye world…
Artemis, there’s a reason I didn’t care then. My tears fell, and were absorbed instantly by his thirsty, dead skin. Your plans… they are so evil… I would have looked into his eyes, but he no longer had eyes to look into. Whatever I said then, I don’t mean it now.
A happy note. That’s what I need. Achevements…?
Kidnaping an elf.
Holding the People to ransom.
Giving his own mother a rare, fatal farie disease.
Artemis, your heart is cold, just like your body. I love you, but what kind of monster have I fallen for?