100 Words of Horror: Micro Fiction

The soft petals of my floral wreath belie the angst that was devouring me. I had to be sure, his death being so quick. I lay my ear upon his breast, listening for the beat of a once strong heart. There is no life spark here, though his manner might show differently. And though he may walk this land again, I fear not, for what he was, I have undone. What he shall become, is yet to be determined. But this time, I shall not fail. I will bring life to the lifeless, and sign my name upon his brow.