Okay so I killed Wyatt for not trusting in my distrust for the Dark Lord Chris, and now I must, in turn, answer both Wyatt and Chris' question in one go with a murderous little story I like to call,
"How I would kill Chris."
Chris enjoys his good-looks. It wins him friends, lovers. He enjoys his youthful charisma. It brings him popularity and success. He enjoys it throughout his teenage years and throughout his 20s and he is always grateful for what it has brought him and continues to bring him. One day however, when he turns 30, he looks in the mirror and he doesn't see that same old Christopher. There's a gray hair. A bit more of a belly. A wrinkle or two cast around some of his boyish features. Although he dismisses it, he can't quite shake that feeling off. A few years go by and he is continues to go out and travel and meet people and win people over. He's 40 now and he once again returns to the mirror. In it he sees hardened lines running across his face like road maps. The skin below his eyes seems to have been affected by the pull of gravity. He isn't tired and yet somehow he looks it. Once again, he shakes it off. Although he continues to make the most of his life, his gravitational pull seems to have weakened. People surround him less. His gym strength has resided. He returns to the mirror at 50. He feels heavy. His eyes have dimmed. His body has worn. Gray hair has replaced brown. At 60 it gets worse. At 70, worse still. What once, in his looks and charm, shined so bright, has now dimmed like an ancient bulb. Chris is old now. Retired. Tired. He sits in his favourite armchair, smoking weed, but after so many years it does not seem to have had the same effect. Perhaps an immunity has built? He turns 80. And finally, 90. Old age has become him entirely. His skeletal body cannot lift his mind. His mind does not propel his body. At the age of 92, his nurse walks in to find him dead. He is buried that day same.
That's right.
I didn't murder Chris. Instead I vividly described him dying of old age.