Short Story: Agent Iris
“Write a 250 word story based on the photo.”
Agent Iris was a fool and she knew it. Sitting with his hand gripping her shoulder too tightly as he made plans on the map for their day together. She knew she loved him too much. He was a monster of a man with a fair face and a kindly manner. His personal power as a prince was seductive. So easy to forget what he was going to do.
“Shall we row round to the west bay and lunch under the pine trees?”
Two dozen of their house slaves would have to row them under the burning sun and under the lash. She was here to help save the slaves and all of her people.
“Sounds delightful darling.”
Slave workers had been brutally forced to build their idyllic holiday home-from-home out here. She felt safe here in his arms. Fool. Agent Iris hated him for what he was.
“Or we could stay here and picnic on the lawn.”
Last night the Assault Team had sent a message that the attack would be this morning. He had to stay here.
“It will be good to go out. I tire of lazing even with you my pumpkin. Lets go.” His arm around her pulled her up roughly. Part of her enjoyed his strength. Most of her wanted to seal his fate.
“Why don’t I give you a massage.”
“Yes. And then?”
She winked at him. Agent Iris hoped they would kill him before she let him screw her.