Warnings: None

MacBeth's reign of treachery had ended almost as quickly as it had began. MacDuff had slain the unstable man, beheaded him nonetheless. The battle was lost, but the war was won!

Yet, though the sound of the cries echoing throughout the land, praising the new king of Scotland, sounded joyous, MacDuff still couldn't shake his feeling of unease.

Had he really done it? Had he really slain the twisted Thane of Cawdor? He felt so sure before so why not now? He had seen the blood that the former king had shed when he had impaled him.

He needed to see it. He needed to see the body. The body of the man that caused him so much grief. The body of the man that murdered his family, keeping him from feeling any happiness in this moment of victory.

MacDuff began towards the body, but his path was blocked by the many amazed villagers, so ever grateful for his service. The tall man began to panic, thinking that he would be trampled in the midst of all of the gratitude.

His panic became even worse as he watched the crowd throw MacBeth's body into the raging river, showing no mercy, just as anyone should have, dealing with such a wicked being.

MacDuff was pulled back into reality by Malcom, the new king, grabbing onto his shoulder, pulling him into a strong brotherly embrace. The hug dimmed his unsettlement, making him feel slightly more at ease.

There, MacDuff raised his sword at yelled, "HAIL KING OF SCOTLAND!!!" ( A/n they just got to that part at rehearsal •~•) allowing Malcom to proceed with his speech, telling everyone where to go to attend his coronation.

At this moment, everything seemed okay, but even then, MacDuff still was unable to forget the feeling of empty air hitting his blade during his final swing at MacBeth.

A/n: First chapter, 319 words!