Something Wicked This Way Comes 3/10

1.2K 84 9
                                    

To those who believe that my home would be simply that – a few strips of wood and paint and fancy furniture – was a fool. Between the hallways and the locked doors, there was not a sound. Among the crystal skulls and blood-soaked chains, the books and the bones, the jars of hearts and French armoires, nothing breathed unless I willed it.

All quiet on the Western Front. Drop a pin in silence and you may not live to tell the tale.

He held a gun specially modified for the second monster within the maze. Superheated copper bullets which would not shatter when coming in contact with the Winter King's frozen skin, yet burned at such a temperature which could pierce through his natural, indestructible defense. Mere mortals could not construct such a weapon; it was a gift from the white guardian angel of death.

Boys and their toys.

He was focused, alert, sweeping the lower kitchen with military precision. His partner was at his back, equally as vigilant as the pair searched the room for any sign of life. They did not hesitate at the sight of the nightmares they found within the cupboards, the grotesque forms chilled in the fridges, the bodies hanging from meat hooks from the ceiling. He and his partner had one mission: to find and kill the target. All else was insignificant. Emotional responses bred only distraction. Distraction got you killed.

That was the basis for which the Royal Guard had been built. To face the world's growing population of supervillains, an elite team was needed.

Rule one: You may not possess any living relatives or any close personal ties with any human or animal or any physical object. Nothing that could be used against you. This made the Guard a popular choice for those who had lost everything at the hands of a villain. Or those who wished to commit suicide.

Rule two: The orders of Prince Roderick, ruler and First Command of Vexus City, were absolute above all else. Loyalty and duty were sacred. To disobey was a fate worse than death.

Rule three: You will die.

This rule was an undisputed fact that all twenty-four Guard members were aware of, and anticipated, the moment they were assigned to break down the front door of Mistress Noon's known residence. There were no badges of honor, no trophies, no bragging rights around the dinner table when one's name was pulled for an assignment concerning the Red Lady. In the seven years of the Guard's existence, only three members had ever survived an encounter with the Mistress, and that was through sheer dumb luck.

Among these soldiers, these robots of peace, the name of Noon was not spoken. It was whispered when no one was listening, the stories of demon who clawed out from Hell; of the goddess who struck down those who defied the divine and would not give her worship; of the woman whose unexceptional beauty was said to bewitch all or strike dead any man who looked on her face, depending on the mood.

There would be no bargaining, no begging for life, no reasoning or rationalizing. No bribes or tricks would work. There was nothing that could be offered that she could not take by force, and would take just because she could. Mistress Noon answered to no man, no Prince, no god or hellion below. None but the Gentleman, who dared to defy her.

The Gentleman had never approved of the Royal Guard. Senseless sacrifice of life – the 'squad of suiciders' he had labeled it – went against everything he claimed to fight for. Yet he provided them with weapons when he served his purpose.

Anything to shove a burning hot spike up his arch-nemesis's/lover's ass.

Was he...

Truly?

Did he think this could stop-

Did he truly believe the Guard had a chance-

TO COME INTO MY HOME!

With all his training, years and years of violent, merciless preparation to become the finest militarized killing machine capable of taking on beings akin to superhuman gods, the only warning he received that the third rule of the Royal Guard was soon to apply to his person was the sound of his partner's head bouncing off the limestone floor.

Madness At Noon {COMPLETED}Where stories live. Discover now