Murder at Midnight

At dawn on the sixteenth of April, the Princess Rosalie was on its maiden voyage. A bottle of champagne broken on the bow signifying its departure with a crew of professional sailors to ensure its arrival to port.

However, one woman sought to change the fate of the ship. With a dagger by her side and a vendetta in her mind, she was a stow away. Two nights in, she donned a dark cloak and a billowy white blouse to carry out her plan of attack. The captain’s quarters were barred, but the lock was easily picked by her nimble fingers. A thin, even slice to the throat by a steady hand was all it took for the brute to fall into a different sleep, one he would never wake from. A sleep his wife had put him in.

She made her way around the vessel, her flowing chestnut locks bathed in moonbeams flowing from the night sky. The sailors were sleepy and caught by surprise. Needless to say, they all died.