Zombie

So tired...

He came from a long line of royal executioners. His father and his grandfather before him wore the honorary title of Supreme Justicar, and the embellished axe that came with it. Fancy title for chopping off people’s heads. He wasn’t fond of his work, but his ultimate goal of making his ancestors proud resonated through to his core. He would keep on doing this bloody work. So tired…

He lay there as his vision faded. A dagger in the back. Off-course, he killed a lot of innocence in his line of work. He was just the executioner. He did his duty. People still hated him for it, nonetheless. Pretty convenient way to quit the job he so hated, though. So tired…

All of a sudden he stood up. Pain in his back was numbed, and the world turned gray around him. He remembered nothing but his ultimate goal: make his ancestors proud. He walk slowly, into the nightly alleyways. So tired…