"Ryan! Ryan!" Ryan's head snapped up from the chest he was digging in, and he turned towards the sound of Michael's voice.
"What?"
"Ryan, it- it's Edgar! I went in there to go let him out again as a joke, but he- He-" Michael broke off as a sob shook his body. He sprinted back for Ryan's house, and Ryan ran after him. They burst into the house, and Ryan immediately ran down the dirt steps into Edgar's hole. Michael stood above, crying.
Ryan skipped the last step and jumped straight to the bottom of the hole before looking around. In the dark area where Ryan had tried to expand the hole, there was a shape lying on the ground. Getting closer revealed that it was Edgar, lying on his side and unmoving. Ryan placed his hands on Edgar's side, and drew them away covered in blood. It was too dark for him to see the cow properly, but he knew Edgar was dead.
Ryan wasn't concerned with his death—he could always get another cow—as much as he was concerned with how he'd died. "Michael, what happened?" Ryan asked, turning back towards the hole above him. Michael loomed at the edge, still crying, but the sound had changed slightly. It didn't quite sound like crying anymore. He moved forward, but noticed that the dirt steps leading to the top of the hole had been knocked over. The pit was too tall to climb out of without them, and he looked back up at Michael for help.
Michael was grinning, and Ryan realized he was right; Michael wasn't crying. He was laughing. He drew his sword, also covered in blood, from the sheath at his side. It didn't take long for Ryan to figure out what had happened.
"What did you do to Edgar?" Ryan screamed furiously.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Michael said, all too calmly for the situation at hand. "Edgar's right here. He's totally fine—a little scared, I guess, but he's fine. You're fine."
"What—I—"Ryan stammered as he took a step back.
"Edgar is the one in the hole, remember?" Michael murmured as he closed the glass cover over the hole and secured it with a padlock he'd drawn from his pocket.
"Let me out!"Ryan yelled, but the glass above him muffled his words to the point of being unintelligible. Standing on the pile of dirt, he was just tall enough to pound his hands against the cover, leaving it stained with red.
"Well, look who's king now," Michael muttered, then chuckled. "King Mogar. King Mogar. I like the sound of that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few subjects to take care of."
Ryan could only watch helplessly as Michael sheathed his sword and walked out the door.