Death and Shadows

A draft treatment of a short story I came up with out of boredom.  Comments are encouraged, demanded even.

“There’s a fable about a scorpion and a frog.  One day, a scorpion was at a vast river crossing when he encountered a frog that was about to cross.  The scorpion says ‘Mr. Frog, I need to get to the other side of the river, will you take me across on your back?’.  The frog, knowing the scorpion’s penchant for deception says to the scorpion,’Why should I try to help you? You are a scorpion. how can I trust you not to kill me?’.  ‘But you see, Mr. Frog, both of us would die if I sting you when we are in the water and that is not in my best interest.’ says the scorpion.  The frog agrees to take him across the river, and halfway across the river, the frog feels a sharp sting in his back and realizes that the scorpion has stung him.  ‘You fool!’ the frog exclaims, ‘now we shall both drown and die! Why would you do that?’.  The scorpion retorts, ‘I am a scorpion, Mr. Frog.  I cannot help it.  It’s in my nature.”

The light swayed in the dark, dank room as a figure in the shadows told the story of the Frog and the Scorpion.  In his arm, a 12 inch knife dripping with blackened blood.  Across the room, a man of indeterminate age lay clutching his belly as if to stop the ebbing tide of blood from his guts.  Drip.  Drip.  Drip.  The man struggled to speak but managed a hoarse sentence, “I gave you what you needed you fool, we had a bargain!”.  The shadow man smiled sardonically, “and yet, here you are lying in a pool of your own blood, your life fading away oh so slowly…”.  The dying man cried out “I am Har-Shadib, priest of the holy Morgorath! You will pay for you foolishness assasin!!!” An eerie smile crept into the Shadow Man’s face, “Har-Shadib! pfeh! you are nothing but a frog who fell prey to me, enjoy your last moments alive frog, pray to your heathen gods and see if they can save your soul!”

The Shadow Man clutched his knife, his bare knuckles whitening in rage as he focused on the dying priest of Morgorath. “Your Gods have no domain over the world of men, we will wipe you out and end the suffering that you have brought on this land!”. he said to the priest.  He threw the knife within arms reach of the dying man, “You can try calling out if anybody can hear you, they just might be able to save you.  Then again, you can be smart enough to know what to do with that knife.”  The dying man scrambles for the knife and hugs it tight against his chest.  “Wait, Warrior! I would know your name! Who are you? What are you?”, the blood dribbling from the priest’s mouth as he spoke.

“I do not have a name.  As for what I am, I am a scorpion.  It’s in my nature to make you suffer.”, the Shadow Man answered as he stalked out of the room.

He walks the tunnels under the Capital, and in the distance he hears a wet, crunching sound followed by a horrifying scream.  The Shadow Man smiles to himself:

“And so it begins.”