TW; Gore, Death, Physical Abuse, mild sexual themes.

The night had grown cold despite it being the middle of summer. A chilling air swept through the opened windows of this mid-sized castle. There was a lack of soldiers within the walls, prodding at his annoyance. A king should have more. It was almost a necessity to have troops patrolling, or else you leave yourself open. A gust of wind lifted the soft silk shawl that graced his heavily tanned chest. It was a skin tone that had been brought forth by the constant sun over the sea. Tonight of all nights wasn't a particularly bad evening for him.

Nye, he had been put in a rather good mood. Thanks to that little dove. His thoughts remembered the details of her body, feeling a chill run up his spine; stopping inside his shoulders. He'd have to drag her to his bed next time.

The remembrance shed itself from his mind with the flick of a hand, looking at the tapestry along the walls. The detail among them brought a relaxing mood about him, charting a course through the halls of this…. What was his name? -Isto.- Yes, the name of the man had been heard by some women outside, peaking the interest of his dark iron heart.

It brought a sense of mystery into the evening, how would tonight end; would it become a night of friendship? A night or pain? The titan held no ill feelings toward this man, nor his bloodlines. Yet. A smirk formed across his blood colored lips, peering into the empty halls beneath that mask. In terms of clothing the mountain of a man had little to begin with, he didn't feel they were needed. Plus, should tonight grow violent. They'd be burnt into cinders anyway.

His bare feet touched the soft fabric as the muscles within his thick thighs flexed. It was a leisure walk at this point. His body contained a confidence unlike any other and having grown up in the wilds…. Being stark bare wasn't a problem to him. The tendons wrapping his hips shifted as he walked, silver light from the moon catching the skin upon his stomach.

There was a glistening on his hips, clear, and still warm. Oh, yes. A tidal wave had been left on his dark flesh and he hadn't bothered to clean her off. His stroll came to an end as a wide pair of wooden doors stopped his walk. Twin amber orbs stared over the detail as his right hand shoved them both open. His heavy gaze was met with a throne sitting perched on a raised floor, three carpeted steps leading up to it.

The room was large and had several pillars to keep the roof from killing everyone.

"How prestine."

His voice filled the air and held a sense of judgment much like a parent watching a child perform a task. The right arm attached to his body reached almost half way up one pillar, dragging his pads across the marbled stone. "Hey! Who the fuck are you?" There was a quick exhale as he blinked once, waving his hand toward the duo within the room.

"Keep yer swords sheathed. I'm merely admiring."

Well, the command wasn't followed and soon the pair descended down the steps to him. A breathless sigh leaving his lips as his eyes snapped to the advancing men. They were just doing their jobs, who was he to lay waste to their lives? Oh right. The swing of a blade smacked the marble leaving a small indentation within its stone. "You dare to damage what isn't yours?

One would say his ability to jump from relaxed and straight into sheer violence was a toxic one. They would've been correct as he stepped toward them, fist landing across the cheek of the first man. The feeling of bone cracking flesh and watching his cheek bleed made a monster inside his body react. A chuckle as he grabbed the man's breastplate, feeling that fire consume his flesh and morph his body into something Demonic.

The second man froze in fear and never moved, his fingers sticking their way into the first guard's throat, listening to him gag as he was lifted into the air. The glowing red orbs watched with joy, as fear filled this boy. "You cussed at me. What did I do to deserve such harshness?"

"Did I upset you?"

The power that flowed through him as his own skull was consumed by the hellfire, giving the appearance of a bone like skull and elongated -C- shaped horns. The once relaxed warrior now stood above the men, looking like something fresh from a priest's nightmares.

Blood lust filled his heart and mind as he began laughing like a maniac, pulling the guard's skull back as his right hand gripped the jaw. A scream cut short as bone and flesh snapped and popped, peeling his jaw from his head as if he were peeling an orange. "How unbecoming of a warrior. Accept your fucking death like man."

The corpse of the once-living man thudded loudly in the hall, wrapping his fingers around the jawbone as he looked toward the second man. A heat wave engulfed his body, as flames whipped around his titanic being. A single step was all it took as it took and the jagged bone found the base of his neck, watching as crimson fled into the air. A prolonged sense of compassion filled his core, watching as the guard clasped his neck, choking on it before shoving him to the side.

Despite the amount of black flame that encased his body, they lit nothing on fire, walking up the steps he'd look at a small plate. There sitting in the middle was a red apple, picking it up as he turned and tossed it into the air. Tonight had turned violent, left hand wrapping around the arm of this new seat. A single bite was taken from the fruit, crunching down on it as the hellish beast dropped his right leg over the arm. This throne was no throne for a king, in fact, it was for a child as his right hand rested within his lap. The emotions of taking lives fresh in his spine, enjoying the new found peace as he watched the second man breathe his final goodbye.

"There isn't a God. Shut up and just die."

T

he king entered the darkened, empty throne room with eyes fixed on the ground. It was a place where he generally felt suffocated and aimed to spend as little time in as possible but, at the present, it acted as something of a sanctuary. Somewhere he could breathe. It should have been one of the best nights of his life but his dour mood continued to prevail above all else.

As he crossed to a wall with large windows affording a good view of the solstice moon, Isto tore off his ceremonial cape and cast it aside.

It was then that he found the bodies. Broken and mutilated. Some parts so mangled they no longer resembled belonging to a person. Instead of being afraid for his own life, an idea sparked…

It was selfish. Unjust. Entirely disrespectful to the men whose lives had been so tragically, appallingly, disturbingly lost that night.

Even so, Isto rarely walked away from a door opened by opportunity herself.

Before the horror of the situation could fully take hold in his mind, the king frantically started undressing. He intended to swap clothes with the guard whose face was beyond all recognition. Their builds differed but the shock and confusion might be time enough to gain some distance before they concluded Isto was not dead. And, once he was in the wind…

A loud crunch! echoed through the chamber. Isto froze mid-strip. He was not unlike a deer startled by the crack of a twig underfoot. At the sound, his head had snapped up to look in the direction of the dais. There, draped across the throne, was a large demon casually enjoying an apple.

The next sound to echo in the grand room was a cough of laughter. It was involuntarily done. The manifest of surprise and shock at such a sight, as well as the fact that he had been totally oblivious to the creature’s presence until just then. It seemed impossible to miss something like that.

After a moment of staring in wild amazement, he calmly collected himself – straightened his posture, cleared his throat, folded his hands behind his back – and uttered an awkward, “Er, hello.”. Isto cautiously approached the throne, his head somewhat bowed in what might have been interpreted as a deferential manner. In truth, he was unsure of whether he ought to make direct eye contact or not.

“You are, uh… a bit early, are you not?”

TAG:     Vaddix Rasvadian

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