Deviating from the original plot

Chapter eighty-three

Victoria smiled faintly. "I'll be careful. Besides, it's not like I'd impale you on the spot."

Damien's face paled, and Victoria winced internally. "That was a bad joke."

"That was... a very bad one," he sighed.

✦ ✦

Victoria approached the coop, holding out a handful of corn kernels. The chickens immediately stirred, clucking excitedly, but one in particular stood out. Little Guy squawked loudly, flapping his wings in anticipation.

"Aww... hi, Little Guy," Victoria laughed, scattering the kernels across the coop. The other chickens scrambled to peck at them, and one impatient bird nipped her hand. Before she could react, another chicken scolded it, squawking and flapping its wings to chase it away.

Damien shook his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like you've got yourself some chicken soldiers. You really are something else."

Victoria grinned, brushing feathers from her hand. "Something else? I'll take that as a compliment. Besides, they're loyal... and adorable."

Damien chuckled, stepping a little closer. "Just as I predicted."

"Whatever," Victoria said with an eye roll. "I just enjoy their company. I wouldn't want anything to happen to them."

"I doubt they'll need protecting," Damien replied, a teasing edge in his voice.

Victoria narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you implying I'm overdramatic?"

"Maybe just a little," he said with a grin, watching her frown playfully.

Victoria laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe you are right... They are just silly chickens."

The two shared a quiet moment, the clucking of the chickens filling the air, and for a while, the tension from earlier melted into a light, easy camaraderie.

✦ ✦

Victoria jolted awake to piercing screams echoing through the estate.

"My lady! Something's happened to the chickens!" Anne burst into her room, panic written all over her face.

"The chickens... what? What happened?" Victoria asked, her heart racing, as a monstrous screech echoed from outside.

"Oh no..." Dread pooled in her stomach. She bolted from her room, only to see the chickens had transformed into grotesque, nightmarish creatures.

"No..." Victoria whispered, horror-struck. Servants scattered in terror, while a few guards bravely engaged the monstrous birds.

"Victoria!" Her father's voice cut through the chaos as he approached.

"Father... my chickens..." Her voice trembled, tears pricking at her eyes.

"I know, my dear, but you must fight to protect the estate!" he urged, his own face tight with concern.

"My chickens..." Victoria murmured again, choking back a sob.

"My lady," Anne called, bringing her sword to her with shaking hands, "you have to do something!"

Victoria watched in horror as one of the monstrous chickens snatched a guard in its beak, crushing his weapon with ease. The sheer ferocity of the creatures made it clear that ordinary fighting wouldn't work.

Victoria's fists clenched around the hilt of her sword. "I won't let them—" she began, but the creatures shrieked again, circling the estate like predators.

She took a deep breath, summoning her courage. "I'll save them... all of them," she said, determination hardening in her voice.

"Get everyone inside!" Victoria shouted, stepping forward with determination.

"Victoria, be careful!" Her father called after her, but she was already moving.

She dashed toward one of the monstrous chickens, her sword flashing in a clean arc. The blade sliced through its chest, and the creature let out a distorted cry before crumbling into a cloud of black dust.

One more closed in on her, pecking and clawing viciously. Victoria spun aside, her reflexes sharp, and countered with a swift strike that split one across the chest. It, too, dissolved into dark ash.

Then a piercing screech split the air behind her — one that made her blood run cold.

She turned, eyes widening as she recognised the creature before her.

"Little Guy..." she breathed.

The once-adorable chicken now stood taller, its feathers transformed into jagged, shadowy spikes. Its eyes blazed crimson, glowing like embers in the night. It let out another guttural, inhuman cry — one that was both pained and furious.

Victoria's grip on her sword trembled. "Little Guy... what happened to you?" She whispered, tears stinging her eyes as her heart ached at the sight of her beloved pet turned monster.

Little Guy screeched again, the sound sharp and warped, as though the creature was crying out in agony. His wings flared wide, dark energy crackling from his feathers and scorching the ground beneath him.

"Stay back!" one of the guards shouted, raising his spear.

"No, don't—!" Victoria started, but it was too late.

The guard lunged, and Little Guy reacted with terrifying speed, flapping his wings and sending a shockwave of dark wind that threw the man across the courtyard. He hit the ground hard and didn't get up.

"Little Guy, stop it!" Victoria cried, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. "It's me—don't you remember?"

The monstrous bird let out another chilling roar, its beak splitting open wider than any natural creature's should. The sound tore through the air, making her flinch.

Victoria's heart twisted painfully. "No... there has to be another way—there has to be something I can do."

But before she could think further, Little Guy lunged again, his claws glowing with inky energy. She barely managed to raise her sword in time, the collision sending a jarring shock up her arms. Sparks flew as metal met corrupted magic.

"Please!" she shouted, struggling against the force. "Don't make me do this!"

The creature pressed harder, eyes burning crimson, with no hint of the loyal pet she once knew. He let out a piercing screech, then leapt back, preparing to strike again.

"Forgive me," she whispered through trembling lips. As he charged, Victoria swung her blade in a single, fluid motion—clean, swift, and heartbreaking.

The corrupted chicken let out one last cry before bursting into a cloud of dark ash that drifted into the wind.

Victoria stood frozen, her sword lowering slowly. "Little Guy..." she breathed, voice cracking.

Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, the weight of what she'd done crashing over her.

Her father ran to her side, grabbing her shoulders. "Victoria! Are you hurt?"

She shook her head weakly, eyes fixed on the fading ashes. "I killed him."

His expression softened, though his tone remained steady. "You didn't kill him, Victoria. Whatever that creature was—it wasn't Little Guy anymore."

Victoria's eyes shimmered with tears as she looked up at him. "But he's gone... and it's my fault."

"My dear," her father murmured, crouching to meet her gaze. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "None of this was your doing. You did what you had to do."

He pulled her into an embrace, but Victoria stood stiff, her hands balled into trembling fists. Her sorrow burnt away into something colder.

"When I find whoever did this," she said through gritted teeth, "they'll wish they hadn't touched anything that belonged to me."