Peter III Knocking the thought from his mind, he unwrapped a package that had been left by the door, he already knew what it was and it felt hot already in his hands. He placed the open bundle as far as his short arms would let him, into the stacks of dry wood. He paused again, swallowed, closed his eyes and fumbled to light the candle that had been given to him. He then placed the open flame into the wood and close to the fuel that would soon help the fire. He watched as the fire spread quickly and uncontrollably and horror filled his whole body. "What have I done?" he whispered as the flames quickly grew larger, he tried to move but his legs were frozen solidly to the floor and his eyes were mesmerised by the flames before him. They started to burn his eyes and skin and he turned towards the back door to complete his job but pains filled his short, fat body and he fled, running as fast as his legs would take him, and frequently looking back. He knew that his employer would not be happy and he knew he had to come up with a plan to escape the island before he was killed. Frantically, he ran into the dock and disappeared into the shadows of the fishing buildings. Almost at the top of the cliffs, a man watched, from where he stood on his balcony he had an excellent view of the town, docks and the sea. He watched the shipwrightery, seeing the smoke, he was pleased with his fat little choice, in this town not many people would've done what he requested. And it needed to be someone who could be disposed of easily. He watched his mouse scurry into the maze of the docks buildings and turned his gaze back to the smoke, and waited for the flames.

Peter II He put his flask back into the inside pocket of his grubby brown coat and then wiped the droplets of swill off his unshaven face and onto the back of his sleeve. Heading towards the store he listened for any signs of #life, silently he peered through the glass window, his beady little eyes noticing two men slumped at a table, clearly passed out or too drunk to notice him staring, he did notice however, the bottle of rum on the table and licked his lips. He made his way to the back of the shop, past the piles of wood which he knew would soon be kindle to the fire. He reached the back door and peered through the window, he could see a man and a woman asleep with a baby in a handmade cot at the end of the bed. He paused for a moment thinking about what he was about to do and felt a stab of guilt.

Peter It was a warm, dry night and the smell of sea and fishing boats filled the dock. In the darkness, a small hunched man stood in the shadows, waiting for the candlelight to die, so he could finally complete his job. He had been waiting there for quite some time now and was impatient to finish so he could get to the inn and drink. He looked up at the cliffs that surrounded the docks and houses, watching the seagulls fly around to find their nests. He looked back to the window of the Shipwrightery and noticed the candle had expired. A rush of dread and excitement filled him , and suddenly he felt cold, sick and shivery. He took out his flask and emptied the remnants of swill into his mouth, cringing as it hit his taste buds and thinking about how soon he would be able to drink rum again. A vast wave hit the docks with some force and splashed his boots with sea water, disturbing his thoughts and bringing him back down to earth and to the job at hand.