Chapter Text
Into the gladiator’s pit, an undeniably damned character of his own undoing met with the Fates for his final bow. They take on the form of three men, each representing their respective masters–Cecil, Raleigh, and Essex–perfectly prepared to do their deed. Marlowe saw the glint of a blade on Raleigh’s man; it glistened delightfully in the pale moonlight. This was his Atropos, decider of his time of demise. He thinks he smiled when the silver pierced his flesh, just at the brow.
Finally, an end.
It is incredible how it was not. Shouts and a clambering of frantic feet. A new visage reveals itself to Marlowe, a man somehow not deceased. This new figure could have been the Devil himself; Marlowe had no care, no feeling, as the cold quickly sought him out. Words, a clutching of his restricting throat, and a new kind of pain greeted the blooded writer. Blood and suffering, a new yet common acquaintance.
So, is the new fate of the wicked Kit Marlowe. He has evaded the kingdom of Hades through the defiance of some horrid beast of the night. Watch now…how he rose.