A/N- This story's title and idea are taken from Edgar Allen Poe's masterpiece the Tell Tale Heart. I am simply writing fan fiction. Please enjoy and if you enjoyed this simple story- common logic would say to click on the button at the bottom of this page and submit a review- Also this takes place in the second movie, however…
Puss-In-Boots is there
King Harold is not a frog (yet)
Fiona and Shrek are both happily ogres
Any questions? Write me and I'll answer them. However the story does kind of explain itself as it goes along so… without out further ado…
The Tell Tale Knife
By: Regina Realson
Chapter 1- The Deed
The dull creak of the floorboards under the silently sneaking feet of the man echoed though the large hallway. Silence issued once more as the cloaked figure paused. The dimly lit hallway cast an eerie shadow on the figure's face and the long dagger he held upright in his hand.
With more care than was needed, the man inched forward again. His course steered him directly toward the bedroom door of a certain royal couple. Steadily opening the double doors of the bedroom, he slipped in. The darkness hid him well as he waited by the door. No sound came from the canopy bed. Its occupants were asleep; unaware that only patience kept them alive.
The great clock in the center of the city struck midnight and the killer stepped forward knowing that is was then time. His hand rose and fell; digging the cold blade of the knife deep into the heart of a large shape on the left side of the bed. It was done.
The murderer hurried from the room. His footsteps made no sound as he reentered his own bedchamber and cast off his dark hood. Carefully removing the dark gloves he wore and the shirt and pants, the killer slipped into a blue robe and sighed. All he had now to do was hid the offending knife. Only one kind of knife was strong enough to pierce ogre skin so quickly; and if it was found in his possession; he doubted that anything could save him.
But where to hide it? Simple question, he thought looking around the spacious room. Under his bed? No, to obvious. How about under the rug? Perfect! But how was he going to get it under there? Never mind. It looked to the killer that he was done for.
Suddenly just as all hope had left him, he remembered a secret safe in the back of his closet where his will and crown were kept. Surely no one would look there. Without hesitation, the killer hurried over to the closet and stuffed the clothes and the knife into the safe, locking it with a combination only he and his wife knew.
Sighing with relief and his heart pounding in his chest, the killer slowly made his way to the deep green canopy bed and climbed in. His wife was fast asleep and only the mass of her golden hair could be seen on the pillow. The rest of her was buried beneath the covers. Sleep did not come easily to him, but slowly he slipped off into a place that all good kings go when they sleep.