Struck by a Brief Hint of Inspiration…

He walked through the room one last time. He’d not even left the room and already it left him with a sense of longing. His fingers razed the duvet cover, the sheer curtains over the windows, the tooled wood of her dresser. He thought of the times they’d shared in the room; not only entwined in each other’s bodies but within each other’s souls. He smiled as he reflected on the laughter they had once filled the room with while watching movies on her computer or just from telling each other silly stories.
That laughter was in the past. No longer would they fill that room with laughter, ecstasy, or even tears. Never again would he walk through that room. He sighed wistfully at the thought before he summoned up his strength and walked out of the room with her decapitated head under his arm.