The thick fog lifted a little bit as the moon peaked through the clouds for a fleeting second. The snow covered landscape looked like a scene from a fairy tale where frosted trees threw long and daunting shadows over the untouched white carpet.
Suddenly a caped shadow moved from a cluster of trees, leaving boot marks in the direction of the quiet, dark castle.
A flash of ginger coloured hair was visible for a fleeting moment from below the hooded figure and then he... or she disappeared in the darkness of the castle walls.
It started snowing softly. The flakes covered the very dead and bloody body of a the unlucky girl, while pale white hands were scrubbed with soap and water in the stables to put distance between the murder and the hands responsible for the vile, unimaginable act.
*******
The man from MI5 looked at the miserable wet figure. It was 03:00 in the morning. He noticed the red, tired eyes and the shiver in the clasped hands. It reminded him of prayer. The confession he just heard stunned him, but there was no surprise.
He turned and stared out the window towards the trees. The snow was at least one metre thick by now. All the tracks were covered. Tomorrow Her Royal Highness will take her horse out to the fields and be none the wiser. No one will have to know about the dead girl in the royal grounds. By the time the snow melts, the body would hopefully have been decomposed and become one with the soil. His charge and the confession would be something of the past. It would have never existed to start with. He would have nothing to cover up.
Not being a medical practitioner, he did not take into account the preserving powers of the ice and snow. He would have his hands full in the morning....
Groete uit die woestyn en van al die Arabiere
H of Arabia
* DISCLAIMER
An act of pure fiction and a very warped state of mind...
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