CLOVER

Mark opens the door to the office of Prince, stepping in. “I’m here, your ‘majesty’” He grimaces. “Come, have a seat, Sheriff…” A robotic voice says. Mark sits down, a bit of sweat sliding down his face. “What do you know about Clover and her… Accomplices…” Mark snears, putting his hand to his holster. “You know what I told you about them, if you even lay a SINGLE finger on them, I’ll fill you with bullets-” “Care for a drink, Sheriff?” Mark clutches his holster, fiddling with the revolver. “That’s not related.” Prince chuckles, catching an orange fluid from the air. “Of course it’s related…” He tilts his chair slightly, turning so only the silhouette of his face is visible, and his eyes glow a deep orange. “You can’t speak to friends if you’re… under pressure…” He crushes the glass in his hand, with the remaining liquid falling to the floor. “Those kids are high-value targets, you know-” “I told you not to touch those damn kids!” He flips his revolver out, and as if predicted by fate itself, Prince swings across the table, throwing Mark into the window on the wall, pinning him down with a robotic claw. “Trigger discipline, Sheriff.” He slams Mark into the window a few times, making a small crack. “There are a few thousand feet beneath you, Sheriff. I’d pick your next words very carefully.” Mark tries to turn around, to no avail. “How did you know that I was going to-” “It doesn’t take an idiot to realize that you were reaching for your gun.” The door to Prince’s room creaks open, with Prince tossing Mark back into his chair. “Your Majesty, I found a microphone lying on the floor outside the Sanctum. What should I-” "Leave it here, I’ll deal with it.” “Yes, your Majesty.” A small microphone on a wire slides across the floor, with Prince grabbing both the wire and Mark, slamming him into the window again. “You dug your own grave, moron.” He slams Mark against the window several times, sending a few glass shards over the edge of the building. “P-Prince… I can explain-” “Explain it to your guardian angel when you wind up in their arms, just a step away from the Golden Gates.” He slams Mark through the window, holding him thousands of feet above the ground. “You know how much I hate backstabbers…” Prince says, winding a claw back. “That didn’t stop you, did it!?” He slashes Mark’s face wide open, a stream of crimson flowing outward. “AHH-” “Silence.” Prince quickly shouts, his eyes glaring. “You’ve lost your chance at redemption, Sheriff.” He slowly lifts Mark, with his face still bleeding.”P-Prince please… Stop…” “I made up my mind five minutes ago, Sheriff.” He steps out onto the air, invisible platforms appearing out of nowhere. “I’m sure your ancestors will love to see you again…” He throws Mark into the air, batting him down with another claw. “Tell them I said ‘Hi’.”