by Tyler McKenzie
He cracks the last of the pills over the crystal glass, the pile of white powder rising. Her favorite Merlot wine poured on top immediately begins absorbing the fine granules. A small silver spoon clinks against the sides as he mixes the ingredients. A perfect blend is necessary to avoid detection. To complete the final step of the plan.
He sets the glass on a silver tray, adjusting the crisp, white cloth draped over his arm. His footfalls echo through the foyer as he crosses to the staircase, expertly balancing the tray as he ascends the stairs. The chandelier light from above glints against the glass, prisms of light darting in all directions. Hidden beauty, he thinks to himself while smiling deviously.
Arriving at the lady's room, he pushes open the heavy door with his shoulder, entering the darkened room quietly. He crosses to the bed, setting the tray on the nightstand.
"I've brought you your drink, ma'am. Your favorite Merlot."
She groans slightly and waves her hand roughly to demand his aide. He responds quickly, well trained after so many years. He delights in the task, knowing it will be one of the last demands he will have to fulfill. The end of his servitude, his obedience.
Emptying the glass, she settles her head back into the pillow as the wine makes its way into her system, as the drug enters her bloodstream. She whispers to him as she drifts off to her eternal rest.