The Dagger

THE HAUNTING LAUGHTER vibrated through these rotten walls, transmitting shudders all the way down the spine of anyone who could hear this blood-curdling sound. The entire chamber resembles a disastrous outbreak that one can undergo; shards of glass that gleamed like a menacing confetti, ragged pages of books shattered like remnants of ashes, furniture splintered in a morbid display, and the tapestry of desertion exhibits as the cobwebs weave across every corner of the place. There's no denying it, this place is like an archaic mansion, once glorious, but now harboured in a festering darkness of its facade.

The General's laughter ferociously erupted - it sounded like a symphony of madness that seemed to pierce within the fabric of reality. Lifting the shot glass, the residue of his sanity started to slosh within. "Lev Nenashev, you despicable fool," the General jeered at the newspaper in his hand, he could not contain his laughter which turned into an unholy refrain rever