The taste of salt entered my mouth as she began to speak, so familiar a taste in these past couple of days. I witnessed clearly her mouth moving to form the words that surely reached my ears but all I heard was my own growing smile inside my head. Outwardly my head was hung in shame, matched with an emotionless face, but inside I had climbed this bloody pile of dead bodies to ascend to my throne. Yes, I could feel the bitterness and defiance growing in my blood—giving vital warmth to these thoughts that began to form.
Her frail words broke against the vanguard of my attack as I effortlessly parried each counter word. Her wish to affect me was futile and each tactic she employed was dismantled with a growing ease. Worry caught in her throat, a rare display of fear from such a woman, as she turned for assistance. Her ever faithful subject came ambling forth covered with the armour of intuition and armed with the sword of rain, which brandished, wet the ground behind him with each forward slide of his gilded feet. Slack-jawed he spoke, “hush child the grave you dig yourself only grows deeper.”
Ah finally, the moment I had been longing for; the battle with the paramount prodigy. I did not think my smile could widen but I guess I even surprise myself sometimes. My eyes glistened with glee as fire ignited in my core, coursing forth through my arteries to set every nerve on edge. Yes, this grave you speak of shall be deep, very deep, but the deepest grave will still reach closer to heaven than any throne afforded to you in service of her.
Crying out we charged at one another. His steely blade of rain burning into steam against the fire of my breath. Battle was waged as we crossed through into all the world’s stages. Fire was met with ice, open expression with inward reflection, and boisterous reckoning with the soft whisper of death. And then it happened, the moment I had long prepared for. With his guard weakening I unleashed my secret attack: the Boyet. “Oh my little heart,” I declared in ridiculous fashion, and that was that.
My grave was dug and I went to lie in it. The faithful subject returned victorious to his full estate which was everything she promised. You have everything you ever wanted now and when your tears dig down to try and pierce this earth I will not feel them. My grave has been dug so deep; nothing can reach me now.
RICHARD NIXON OUT SON!