When, one day, the world just suddenly ends, Em stumbles into the nothing, an empty void that lies beneath the surface of reality, the sole occupants of which are malevolent shadow beings called glowdarks.
Only a select number of individuals possess...
"You are conflicted, Child of Light," says Kitara.
I shake my head. Whatever's come over me, I have to try and fight it off.
"You thirst."
Again, she offers me the goblet, and this time I partake. I need something, anything, to quench this insufferable thirst. The nectar has the potency of a hundred rusted nails scratching against the back of my throat. They settle uneasily in the pit of my stomach, emitting an alkaline concoction. The thought that, in a moment of weakness, I caved to temptation cuts me to the quick.
Clutching my heaving chest, I flee, in no particular direction. I duck into a tent, which thankfully turns out to be vacant, and am sick over a pile of skulls, each one no larger than my fist. Once my stomach settles, I withdraw from the tent, which reeked of death and bile before I even set foot inside it. I roam across the border of the village, seeking solace in the darkness of the trees. Though I would like nothing more than to be gone from here, I cannot flee. I am indebted to the Master of Light; I must fulfil my task and smite Kitara.
I flatten my back against one of the ancient trees, and the sap smudges against my shirt. I wipe the sweat from my brow, heaving softly. As the night approaches, a frost creeps through the woods. The sweat cools against my skin, and my back begins to shiver. My breath materializes before me.
I start to hear whispers in the dark. I gravitate towards them, creeping on the tips of my toes so as not to alert them to my presence. So as not to... I shake my head. This isn't me. Why did my thoughts suddenly get all eloquent? Something's gotten into me. I have to be careful. My heart thumps in my chest, nearly leaping into my throat as I come face to face with one of the monstrosities.
It's skinless, except for an inside-out mask of rotted human flesh worn over its head. The monstrosity breaths putrid, hot breath against my face, and I feel the need to hurl all over again. I back up against the tree, and the monstrosity leans over me, slicing its tongue along its serrated teeth. Then it licks me, smearing blood all along my cheek. I grimace and squirm. It's too much. I can't... I just can't...
I knee the monstrosity in the crotch. It doesn't reel in pain, but the blow does distract it long enough for me to slip away. Clasping my hands together in prayer, I flee as fast as my legs will carry me. I circle back around to the demon village.
As I draw nearer to the glow of the bonfire, I see a shadow creeping through the woods. I squint at the slender figure as it wanders through the trees. My chest clenches when I recognize it as Rachel, the girl from Wates' group who runs the daycare. What's she doing all the way out here? Doesn't she know—Oh, God! The demons will skin her alive! I have to warn her.
She steps out into the light and passes through the flaps of a large grey tent. What is she thinking? I hurry after her—I have to do something before it's too late. Without thinking, I draw back the flaps of the tent.
I see a number of things all at once. Rachel removes her clothing, revealing an incision that stretches from her chin to her groin. She opens up the wound and slides right out of her skin, shedding it like a snake. I press my hand against my mouth to stifle my surprise; she's one of them!
Next to her sits a steaming vat of the rusty red brew Kitara offered me earlier. Dangling above the vat are tiny little corpses, each of them suspended in the air with its neck slit open so that it can bleed out into the vat. Two skinned rabbits. A badger. A fox.
And Sophie.
I stare at the infant, who I remember cradling in my arms and singing to sleep what seems like so long ago. Her hollow expression is burned into my brain. I can hear the sound of her innocent giggles echoing in my ears, only with each repetition it grows distorted and twisted into this evil entity that chews at my insides and wrings my brain like a sponge.
Instinctively, my hands fly to my cross. I clutch it in my palm, and yank the necklace until it snaps. I toss the cross aside, and the rosary beads scatter. This is too cruel. I feel empty, as empty as little Sophie's dead eyes that stare back at me no matter how painfully I try to avoid them. If the Master of Light were really on my side, he would never have allowed this to happen. Not to Pierre. Not to Tino. Not to Shana. Not to Derek.
And not to Sophie.
The cross rattles on the ground where it fell. It starts to smoke and then bursts into flames. I feel the atmosphere grow heavy. My muscles loosen, and my hair flows freely. My skin burns and singes away my clothing. A veil of shadow wraps itself around me, caressing my curves. I levitate up in the air as the darkness consumes me.
At long last... after all of these years... I am awake.
I flick my wrist, and the monstrosity masquerading as Rachel bursts into a thick splash of gore, splattering the flaps of the tent. I wag my finger, and the tent goes up in flames. I take pleasure in my work, but there's something clawing at my chest, something potent. The girl. She pervades me; inhabits every inch of my fibre. Her being taints me.
Revenge. She is corrupted by hatred and the desire for vengeance, just as she was when she had me reduce those pathetic humans to heaps of ash. These vermin—they have wronged her. They have caused her pain. I can feel it. Her loathing for them. For this world. The sight of it sickens me. It sickens me until I can tolerate it no longer.
I fly out of the tent. The vermin all bow before me. They worship me. They sicken me. This very world sickens me. It is not befitting for a harlot, let alone the Witch Queen. They shall feel my wrath. Yes. The word tastes good on my tongue. It has been centuries, eons since I last unleashed my wrath; the venom has pent up within my soul. This world—this sickening world—shall bear the brunt of it.
I will destroy it.
I will destroy it all.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Author's Note:
Kitara certainly got more than she bargained for. Here's a variation on a previous question: if you had to take the place of Em, Crawford, or Gail, whose would you take?
If you liked what you read, don't forget to support the story by clicking that star or leaving a comment below! Don't want to miss an update? Make sure to follow my profile or add Epilogue to one of your reading lists.
