Red

Blood. So much blood. My hands are covered in it. My mind is riddled with thoughts of guilt because the act that I have committed was just horrible. I want to be king, but to result to murder? The crime is unspeakable. My wife, Lady Macbeth, had to talk me into going through with the king's death. She made a fool-proof plan, one that made sure no one would suspect that we were responsible for it. No one suspects a thing.

Malcolm, the heir to the throne, fled to England upon the news of his father's death. Donalbain, the other son of King Duncan, fled to Ireland. With them gone, I am next in line for the throne. I will be king and that will fulfill the prophecy from the three weird sisters. I am not proud of how I obtained this goal and I know it will only haunt me.

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Comments

  1. You could not carry out the act yourself because Duncan reminded you of your father. Did I not commit an act of treason? Why would I not feel any remorse?

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