Title: Legacy of Crimson Author: Briannakin Timeframe: Post-Dynasty Of Evil Characters: Darth Cognus, Darth Zannah Genre: Anticlimactic Notes: Written for the 2011 Mod Halloween Challenge I normally write Luke/Mara romance, so I figured this was the furthest thing from it. Your bare feet treated upon cold, by dry, stone. The coldness burns the souls of your feet, but you ignore the pain. You cannot see your surroundings, the sky is moonless tonight, but that does not matter. Long ago, you memorized these halls. You have lived in this castle for nearly two decades while your master trained you in the dark side of the Force. Your master. You sneer at the thought of her. You know that she has taught you everything she knows and she has outlived her usefulness. In your? ?occupation? as a Sith, once you outlive your usefulness, you don?t retire. You get retired? You die by the hands you train. And that is exactly what will happen to your master tonight. You are confident as you grip the cool metal of your lightsaber. It is a unique design. The hilt is three times the length of a normal hilt. Your thoughts go to your apprentice, safely in your womb. This is for her. Your master must die before she finds out your plans. You know your master would never approve, but you also know the legacy of the Sith lies in the hands of your unborn daughter. You have seen the future, you know that men will bring the Sith to true glory, but you also know that there will be a long line of females behind those males. Your footsteps suddenly halt. You are here at your master?s bedchambers. You lift the black veil your master uses as a door and walk right in. You count the steps to her bedside and stand there, not making a sound. You know some would consider this a coward?s act, but in your mind, it isn?t. Doing the deed this way is just as hard this way as a normal fight. You put a hand over you?re master?s neck and begin to use the Force to squeeze. Suddenly, another hand is on your wrist. Fingernails bury into your flesh, drawing blood. ?You didn?t think it would be that easy, did you?? her lyrical voice asks. One would not think a monster could have such a beautiful voice, but you know this is a monster. ?Can?t kill a girl for trying,? you retort, breaking free of her. Lightning strikes in the background, highlighting your master?s craggy face. ?Actually, I can.? As you ignite your crimson blade, she jumps up, summons her blade to her hand. But, before she can ignite it, she falls to the floor, clutching her chest. You watch by the light of your blade as the Dark Lord Darth Zannah dies of a heart attack. END! A/N: Go ahead, laugh, groan, facepalm, do whatever. It was supposed to be anticlimactic That was my costume!