From beginnings as the daughter of a high-ranking Cooperative agent to Princess of her father's kingdom, Melanie Langdon has always been privileged. Is rising to inherit the Antichrist's throne in her destiny? [Sequel to 'King of Hell'; AU Apocalyps...
Michael's tone sounded more indignant and firmer: "if you lie, try to trick me, or hedge, I will know. The interview will end right then, and I will kill you here myself, painfully." Dad, are you really going to, though? You haven't killed anyone yet in an interview for such things, Melanie thought to herself.
"Understood, sir."
"What is your sexual orientation, Mr. Gallant?" Michael asked, getting a pen with paper ready to take some notes.
"I'm gay, but I did fuck one girl in high school," he answered. "I finished. She did, too. I think she did. Hm..." Melanie could sense him thinking for a moment, "It's harder to tell with them. I am telling you because if you need me to procreate, I can."
"We have techniques of harvesting genetic material from organisms like humans, but we do need a healthy womb to incubate the fetus," Michael informed him, "so your ability to impregnate some poor girl isn't needed, quite frankly."
"Okay..."
"Tell me about the anger inside you," Michael insisted. "Your grandmother."
"Why are you putting those together?"
There was a moment of silence – Melanie even got nervous just thinking whether her father did detect something and have reason to kill him and carry out his threat to make him comply.
"I hate her fucking guts," Mr. Gallant said spitefully. "She wants me to be the 'perfect gay', married with a few Yorkies and a set of Wedgewood dining ware. A goddamn eunuch. That isn't what I am. I'm not even that old, but I am old enough to remember that sucking dick was not just a way to get off, but an act of political rebellion."
"Good," Michael praised. "She has shamed you in the past."
"What do you know?"
"Maybe I have a file with everything there is to know about you, or maybe I am just fishing, but tell me... who are you really?"
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Mr. Gallant was silent: "are you looking for a confession of sorts?" Melanie nearly laughed but knew she needed to keep her mouth shut to not blow her cover.
"I'm not a priest. Hell, I don't even think there is a God. If there was, why would he destroy the world like this?" Michael asked rhetorically. "The concept of sin does seem a bit outdated. They are merely rules for keeping chaos at bay, yet... in this world, now, chaos has won."
Melanie struggled to listen to Mr. Gallant talking about suburban gay lunches held by his grandmother to meet other wealthy gay men. She listened to how he had a preference for leather, and even had a vision from the past of him walking into a grand dining room with nothing but leather chaps and a matching pageboy cap with a boombox that blared heavy techno music. She almost laughed, but then suddenly, she was distracted and heard slithering. She looked down and felt something long, scaly, and cool wrap itself up on her leg.
