Here in the night with our swords drawn, their steel flickering with the flames of the gaslight, our eyes locked in hateful sneers, I wonder why. Have I hurt you, or done you a wrong? For what crime have you sought me out? It seems more than unjust, but a madness, your pursuit.
Yet here we stand upon the cobbled street
with fearful strangers wide-eyed all around.
Their gasps and murmurs fill the air with noise.
So this will be the end of all my ploys?
You've dogged my trail as like some mongrel hound;
you've followed me only to know defeat.
Your lazy lung I dodge with ease, but keeping my point still—you come too close—I run you through before your leading foot can fall. I see your face, so scared, alone. I still don’t know why you wanted my head. You lay upon the stony path, and twitch and moan and die.
Tale Told 