The Mousetrap

On the summit of a grassy mount surrounded by vast woodlands the erupting
spires and primeval architecture of the castle lie hidden by the trees.
Great and horrid gargoyles mounted the turrets, rain dripping down their demon
faces swelling in the dark.
Inside of a dimly lit study.
I am an apothecary mixing a potion of an opium tincture and sitting by an open
fire in a grand arm chair.
I take a sip.
I set my drink on the side table picking up a book as the light of the fire flickers
shadows on the wall.
Looking out the window at a flash of lighting, thunder strikes and I put my head
in my hand, distressed.
I got the idea to poison my uncle while reading Hamlet by the fire light in the
The part with the play within the play where the player king is poisoned by his

It is called the Mousetrap.
My father was assassinated nearly a year ago during a speech he gave on the
reshaping of the worlds order and social construct, which many found to be too socialist
and extremely radical.
I an sure it was a set up.
I watched on television as a bullet flashed through the skull, he fell from the
podium like a limp fish.
My first thought was a flash back to the discussion we’d had over policy only a
week prior.
My uncle, the new monarch, has views in direct opposition to his fathers, as well
as my own.
In his year as sole monarch he has managed to reverse all of the work and
progress made for the people of the world by my father.
In the late age of Aquarius, our family rose to absolute power over earth and the
planet became under the rule of a single monarch.
Centuries of war had come to an end.
Countries had already been replaced by greater unions after the globalization of
the twenty second century.
But still for so long wars were waged and poverty and hunger remained unsolved
in many places.
My father worked on reversing these social problems and creating a freer world.
The family has essentially solely dictated the worlds policy for over two
We are literally untouchable by anyone else who may be seeking real power.
It has just simply systematically been made impossible.
But like a black hole or a nasty computer virus or rotting fruit from the tree every
once in a while something or someone is introduced into a system in attempt to sabotage
and in turn devour all the functions and facets that make it work.
The new monarch, the eldest great grandson of the great patriarch that first took
charge was expected to take the throne upon the former monarchs death.

But the it was left to his youngest more liberal son to reign in hopes for greater
change in the worlds assembly.
It was unexpected and went against historical traditions, but this was a new world.
The eldest brother, my uncle, was left devastated in disbelief with a sworn secret
grudge, I know it.
And that is why it must be him who’d planned my fathers assassination.
It is the only logical conclusion I could come up with.
Sure others had motives but they lack the initiative and power and more
importantly anything substantial to gain.
As monarch he has increased imprisonment worldwide, making money off of
what is practically slavery and reverted to an almost KGB like police state in this post
modern world.
More money is going into researching new techniques on brainwashing than
solving poverty and hunger.
War is inevitable.
The family has worked very hard to make this an unlikely future for man, but here
is one man from within making it happen.
He has to be taken down.
I sip my opium tincture contemplating the mousetrap, poisoning my uncle in the
Revenge tickles the hairs on my neck as I close his eyes in pleasure.
I will poison him…at which point I will claim the throne.

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