“If Macduff wants a fight, then he shall receive one. After all, I was the cause for the death for his family.” Macbeth turned, letting off an irritated sigh. “I refuse to be one who shies away from the pleasures of suicide, no matter how noble it may be.”
Macbeth turned off into the sun filled distance. After tonight, there would be no turning back. What's done was done. There was no time for regret, for sorrow. The shame didn't kill Macbeth, if anything, it had made him stronger. Macbeth refused to let the prophecies come true. He would end anyone who would come in his path.
He was the king. They should be bowing down to him, the whole of Scotland. But Macduff had turned against him and run off to Malcolm. He would end that child and then make his brother beg for mercy. Maybe that would teach them to not run off and plot against him.
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After all, Macbeth had hired assassins to kill the entirety of Macduff's family, the only people that he had only seemed to ever love. And Macduff was angry. As Macbeth paced the top of the building mumbling to himself, Macduff watched, waiting for the right moment to strike.
When Macbeth was turned away, and not looking in his general direction, Macduff decided that it would be the perfect time to make an appearance. He walked towards Macbeth, letting out an angry yell.
"Macbeth! Stop being such a coward. Give yourself up to Malcolm and maybe he will spare you"
Macbeth let out a dark chuckle. "How dare you challenge my claim to the throne. Was killing your family not enough for you? Because I would be just as happy to kill