Short Story: Moving Away

662 Words3 Pages
His reddened ears perked at the rustling and crunching of dead leaves. The young boy peeked from his hiding spot in a tree, glancing downward in hopes that something had set off his trap at last. A squirrel was approaching it warily, and his stomach growled at the mere idea of having something to eat that night. The squirrel raised its head, alert, and scurried away. Just his luck, he thought. He’d been out here all morning- though it seemed absurd that his mother sent him outside at all, there was no food this time of the year. She would have his head if he returned with nothing again. “Pluto,” she’d said, “if you try to return empty-handed, don’t expect to be let in.” Well, he’d like to see her try to catch animals in the freezing cold…show more content…
It wasn’t as though he would have anything to look out for. Of course, he had been outrageously wrong. He was awoken with a loud snap, jolting him from his slumber. He was greeted with a tall, grinning man; something about his eyes unsettled Pluto. “Hello. You’ll be joining me.” Said the man, leaving no room for argument. This, of course, didn’t stop the boy from objecting- well, trying. “There’s no way I’m leaving with you! I’ve got to get home- what time is it?” He scrambled, getting down from the tree in order to make a run for it. This was when the ground began to rumble and split, the man standing above it. Before he knew it, both he and the man were being pulled in. Pluto had learned quickly that this man was the king of this place, wherever they were. His highness had told him that Pluto would be working there from now on. The boy requested that he be let home, at least once he was done with job- the king hadn’t liked that idea. No, Pluto was to stay here…show more content…
He had seen many men attempt to assassinate the king; they held the same envy as he. Suffocation, stab wounds, even fire- and none of them had succeeded. After much observation, Pluto had developed a theory. All had tried different methods, but none had tried to remove that cold heart of his. Pluto decided he would try his hand in such an act. And he did. He had waited for the king to sleep (after ingesting the sleeping medicine he had been administrated; quite discreetly, might he add), before going to work. Pluto made use of the knife he’d been given to tend to the kitchen with, and began his makeshift surgery. To his surprise, after his heart was extracted, the king simply turned to dust. Pluto grimaced at the mess that he would have to clean up, though he supposed it would be easier than depositing an entire body. It didn’t take long for the word to spread throughout this- kingdom, as it were. Cries of ‘has anyone seen the king?’ filled the air, and Pluto had to mask his joy with ‘concern’ for his king. They insisted that Pluto take the throne, as he was the closest to a right-hand man or son that the king had ever had. Of course, he graciously accepted. At last, he could revel in the money and power
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