Scar turned his gaze back to me, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Sorry, Michael, we have to finish our play here." He then looked at Steve. "Give me that sword."
Steve drew a sword from a hilt placed on a nearby boulder and handed it to Scar. Scar positioned himself, raising the sword high above his head, its blade glinting menacingly in the dim light.
"Michael," Scar asked, his voice dripping with malice, "any last wishes?"
I shook my head, indicating that I didn't have any last wishes. Then, I closed my eyes and let the pain wash over me.
So, I guess this is the end... I always knew he would kill me after all the torture. There's no way he'd let me live after seeing their faces.
I sighed, releasing all the breath and pressure I had been holding in.
Huh?
Are these tears?
Am I crying?
