Lemony shifted the dagger between his two gloved hands. Although he had started his wonderfully successful writing career only a tender three years ago, the heavy weapon felt strangely unfamiliar in the now less-calloused fingers that were more accustomed to flying over a typewriter. His free hand fingered the small handgun tucked away in his pocket, should a need to use it come to pass.

He was standing in a dark, abandoned corridor, the only source of light coming from the dimly lit electric candles placed a few metres away from each other. The glimmer of warmth reflected and bounced off the dark marble floor. Taking center stage, placed high above the set of ornate double doors in a delicious shade of chestnut was a flaming torch. The torch gleamed feistily and brightly, daring someone to knock it over and set the place on fire. Lemony tore his eyes away and silently glared in the direction of Ernest, standing proudly in front of the doors holding a large gun effortlessly.

The former hotel manager was now clothed in the uniform of a bodyguard, complete with the latest technology - bulletproof vests, etc. , to which Lemony felt himself ageing even more. The Assassination Department of VFD had shrunk considerably, leaving all the equipment to be claimed by time.

There was a loud fwap noise as the sole of Lemony's shoe came loose. Ernest swiftly turned to his direction. Lemony cursed and wielded the knife dangerously close to Ernest's neck. Dodging it swiftly, Ernest raised his gun and fired.

The bullet gently grazed the side of his torso as the two waltzed in battle across the hall. The stakes rose higher and higher. Ernest stifled a groan as his stomach collided with Lemony's knee. As he dove for the ground, Lemony's knife sank deep into his flesh. Ernest cried out. With what remained of his blurry vision, he aimed at Lemony's heart.

The dead body of his opponent slumped to the floor, covered in ruby red blood that Lemony was sure would stain the floor. Then, Lemony fell to his knees as he stared at the tiny hole dripping blood just over his heart. Bringing the radio to his lips, he whispered: "Guard is dead. I'm dying. Don't worry about me, just get to the others." His eyes rolled back as he joined his siblings in the sky.