Throne of the Beast
“Lock and load.”
Knight One’s command echoed through his helmet, drowning out the helo’s thumping engines. Knight Two sat across from him, his mechanical gloves thumbing the safety on his oversized auto shotgun clad in etched black metal. Knight Four scoffed silently, his face obscured by the jet-black helmet. An uncivilized weapon for an uncivilized man. There are already enough of those in this godless world. Two always seemed unsettling, like a big frothing dog in a constant internal struggle of, “Should I bite or hump my master?” It was no wonder Callsign General loved Two, even if Callsign Archbishop barely tolerated him. One was the Archbishop's girl.
Comments (3)
Such nuance in the snow but at a wedding I think it’s good. I love this one.
Lovely images, beautiful haiku.
I love that this can be celebratory, or foreboding - depending which way you read it 😁