King Script: Scorpion

We are ghosts already.

(He points at the horizon) That thing calling itself a king? It commands scorpions because its own heart is hollow. No tribe. No honor. Just fear and sand.

He spits sand.

The King laughs – a sound like grinding chitin.

MATHUS stares at Nailah.

Suddenly – AN ARROW. It pins the priest’s hand to the altar.

A SCOUT runs in, breathless.

You brought a hundred fools to die.