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Description
JUST A MEMORY AWAY FROM MY HEART

Darren stepped up to the only remaining throne on the Isle. It was the same old throne it had always been since he had first saw it. But now it was covered in cracks and the carvings were dust covered. After so many years he had made a deal, which would give him back his only pride and joy.

His mind was mentally set on sitting on this throne now, the king’s throne, his throne. Darren sat down and looked about the room darkly. He readjusted his legs to a more comfortable position and soothed his arms on the great stone rests. He allowed himself to blink, for out of the window was nothing but pitch black, emptiness and evil. His finger twitched as he sat looking, looking out of that same circular window. There was no Karen now, no Chris to aid him in time of need. Blackness, blackness was all that was to come now. No more elves and giant squids to game over, just blackness. Darren sat forward slightly, so he could slouch and rest his chin upon his palm. Blackness. No ST Peters. Blackness. No more Princess Holly. Blackness. Not even a rival to fight, just blackness was out of that window that he stared out of so long.

Dripping, dripping from a corner of the room bought Darren back from his desire. He turned on his throne to see a puddle on the floor. Blood he thought, water did not exist, only the blood he had spilt for his Princess. He turned back to the window and then thought, whose blood.

Darren stood up slowly and walked over to the water, bending down to examine it. Blood is fresh he thought dipping his finger in and tasting it. He walked over to the spiral staircase leading upwards from the throne room and slowly crept up, one step at a time drawing both of Dallen’s daggers.
He pushed ajar the oak double doors to the Royal bathroom and entered the dusty and un-used bathroom. He saw blood on the floor. The mirrors were staring at him, and he didn’t like it.
A bath of blood behind the mirrors he noticed, looking at the mirror that looked more darkly at him. The door he had just entered closed behind him, and Darren spun
around and dived through the door faster than a bullet, but no one was there. Emptiness, pure emptiness was his world to live alone.
“Who’s there?” he yelled looking down then up the spiral staircase.

He heard crying back down in the throne room, very recognisable crying. He jumped to the bottom of the stairs where he had started ascending and ran into the throne room.
“You idiot, why do you have to act so cold all the time? You said you trust me” came the echo of the most regretful memory of his life.

Description
JUST A MEMORY AWAY FROM MY HEART

Darren stepped up to the only remaining throne on the Isle. It was the same old throne it had always been since he had first saw it. But now it was covered in cracks and the carvings were dust covered. After so many years he had made a deal, which would give him back his only pride and joy.

His mind was mentally set on sitting on this throne now, the king’s throne, his throne. Darren sat down and looked about the room darkly. He readjusted his legs to a more comfortable position and soothed his arms on the great stone rests. He allowed himself to blink, for out of the window was nothing but pitch black, emptiness and evil. His finger twitched as he sat looking, looking out of that same circular window. There was no Karen now, no Chris to aid him in time of need. Blackness, blackness was all that was to come now. No more elves and giant squids to game over, just blackness. Darren sat forward slightly, so he could slouch and rest his chin upon his palm. Blackness. No ST Peters. Blackness. No more Princess Holly. Blackness. Not even a rival to fight, just blackness was out of that window that he stared out of so long.

Dripping, dripping from a corner of the room bought Darren back from his desire. He turned on his throne to see a puddle on the floor. Blood he thought, water did not exist, only the blood he had spilt for his Princess. He turned back to the window and then thought, whose blood.

Darren stood up slowly and walked over to the water, bending down to examine it. Blood is fresh he thought dipping his finger in and tasting it. He walked over to the spiral staircase leading upwards from the throne room and slowly crept up, one step at a time drawing both of Dallen’s daggers.
He pushed ajar the oak double doors to the Royal bathroom and entered the dusty and un-used bathroom. He saw blood on the floor. The mirrors were staring at him, and he didn’t like it.
A bath of blood behind the mirrors he noticed, looking at the mirror that looked more darkly at him. The door he had just entered closed behind him, and Darren spun
around and dived through the door faster than a bullet, but no one was there. Emptiness, pure emptiness was his world to live alone.
“Who’s there?” he yelled looking down then up the spiral staircase.

He heard crying back down in the throne room, very recognisable crying. He jumped to the bottom of the stairs where he had started ascending and ran into the throne room.
“You idiot, why do you have to act so cold all the time? You said you trust me” came the echo of the most regretful memory of his life.