I open the medicine cabinet to look for the bottle I need. “Hydrogen peroxide, no. Rubbing alcohol, no. Listerine, no. Where is it?,” I whisper. After a few minutes of looking in the cabinet, I find what I am looking for. Grabbing the acetaminophen bottle, I smile cruelly thinking about the plan I have hatched. The bottle does not have acetaminophen in it but it actually contains a type of poison called Strychnine. I handle the small bottle carefully as I start walking into the kitchen. I see the other servants walking around doing chores. There are so many of us, but I only know seven servants by name: Sara, Hannah, Robyn, Steven, Michael, Evelyn and Richard.

I grab all the necessary ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets needed to make King Herod’s favorite meal which consists of crispy baked chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy on the side. I put gloves on before adding 4 tablespoons of the powder stirring 2tb into the chicken breading mixture and 2tb into the beef gravy.

After taking the chicken out of the oven, it smells heavenly. The smell of the breaded chicken has taken over this kitchen and the buttery aroma of mashed potatoes with the beef gravy smells good too. While I am waiting for the chicken to finish baking, my fists clench when I think about what he did to me and I hold the pen so hard I worry it is going to snap in half as I write his note and put it next to the plate of food then put the lid on.

I ask Sara to come to me because she usually brings him his food. I tell her, “take this to the King and be careful with it.” She replies “o-o-okay,” before taking the tray out of my hands. I wait 10 seconds before following her up the stairs, I need to know that he saw the note. I hide as she gets closer to his door. Sara knocks on the bedroom door of the king, a male high pitched, sardonic voice answers, “come in. Please close the door behind you as you leave because I’m going to nap after I eat.”

Sara gives the king his lunch tray and walks out closing the door behind her before heading downstairs. I come out from behind the plain-looking curtain, put my ear to the door and hear him dipping the chicken into the gravy. He chews so loudly and with his mouth open, that is my biggest pet peeve. “What did I ever see in him,” I whisper. I know he has read the note because I hear him weeping and mumbling “no, no, no.”

This is what I wrote in the note: “Just because you’re king and can do what you want doesn’t mean you won’t get your just desserts. You will pay for what you did to me, I am making sure of that! I may have been one of your many mistresses but you put me under a forbidden spell that made me unquestionably obedient to you all so you could rape and beat me, you bastard!! Soon you will be experiencing muscle spasms, difficulty breathing and other symptoms. Eventually, your frail lungs will struggle to hold onto life’s fading breath. Can’t wait until you’re dead, I hate you!

- Your ex-mistress Monica.”

I turn and walk away with a cruel smirk on my face knowing full well what is going to happen to him soon. As I get to the stairs so I can walk downstairs, I feel two hands on my back pushing me hard and fast.

The noise of a body hitting the floor attracts the attention of the other servants. Sara runs out and looks down at the dead body before shrieking with tears in her eyes, “Monica has broken her neck from falling down the stairs. I just saw her earlier and now she’s dead. Was it an accident or did someone do this on purpose!?”