Flopunny
Evil Is Fabulous
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Not long after the screaming stopped, the doctors led me into an ornate, well-furnished room.
?The Oracle to see you,? one of them announced.
Mother was sitting on the four-poster bed looking exhausted: her ginger hair was matted, her skin greener than usual. She held a tiny bundle of red cloth in her arms. As I walked in, she nodded to the doctors standing warily by the door.
?It?s okay, you can go now.?
They understood the thinly veiled order and left. Mother held out the bundle like a gift and smiled weakly.
?It?s your new brother. He won?t hurt you.?
My mind raced with the implications; this tiny baby would soon be king. Tentatively, I took the child. His amber eyes gazed into mine and, although they seemed innocent, a rush of fear came over me.
Suddenly, images flashed through my mind. A man on a horse, a town ablaze, a city haunted by the dead, a massive, boar-like beast. These weren?t my memories, but images of the demon lord who had ruled a century ago. The eyes of the gurgling infant in my arms were the eyes of that beast.
?May the Goddess save us all,? I breathed. ?He?s back.?
Mother gave me a searching look, noticing the tremble of fear in my voice. She looked from me to the child, and her face drained of what little colour remained after her ordeal. A tear trickled down her cheek, and I knew what she was going to do.
?We can?t let that happen,? she murmured, more to herself than me.
I gently laid the infant on the bed, and wrapped my arms around my mother. For a few minutes we stood together, mother and daughter weeping for the loss they had to experience. Silently, my mother broke away and picked up one of her curved swords. I heard her mutter a prayer to the Goddess asking for forgiveness before she thrust the sword into the heart that had beaten for so little time.
Time seemed to stand still as we stood unmoving, numb with the grief at what we had done. However, time did pass. A medic came to check on us and screamed. We did not notice. To white-clad women took us away and locked us in the cells. We did not notice. Nor did we care when they took us to a court and charged us with treason. Neither of us spoke as we were led to a raised platform. Our eyes were hollow and dead, reflecting our souls. It was only as Mother, once the queen of thieves, stood above the trapdoor that my mind began to clear. Only as the trapdoor opened that I realise what was happening. As my mother swung on the end of the noose, I screamed ? a scream of pain and loss and terror. I was still screaming when they placed the rope around my neck, as they led me forward, as I felt my world give way.
?The Oracle to see you,? one of them announced.
Mother was sitting on the four-poster bed looking exhausted: her ginger hair was matted, her skin greener than usual. She held a tiny bundle of red cloth in her arms. As I walked in, she nodded to the doctors standing warily by the door.
?It?s okay, you can go now.?
They understood the thinly veiled order and left. Mother held out the bundle like a gift and smiled weakly.
?It?s your new brother. He won?t hurt you.?
My mind raced with the implications; this tiny baby would soon be king. Tentatively, I took the child. His amber eyes gazed into mine and, although they seemed innocent, a rush of fear came over me.
Suddenly, images flashed through my mind. A man on a horse, a town ablaze, a city haunted by the dead, a massive, boar-like beast. These weren?t my memories, but images of the demon lord who had ruled a century ago. The eyes of the gurgling infant in my arms were the eyes of that beast.
?May the Goddess save us all,? I breathed. ?He?s back.?
Mother gave me a searching look, noticing the tremble of fear in my voice. She looked from me to the child, and her face drained of what little colour remained after her ordeal. A tear trickled down her cheek, and I knew what she was going to do.
?We can?t let that happen,? she murmured, more to herself than me.
I gently laid the infant on the bed, and wrapped my arms around my mother. For a few minutes we stood together, mother and daughter weeping for the loss they had to experience. Silently, my mother broke away and picked up one of her curved swords. I heard her mutter a prayer to the Goddess asking for forgiveness before she thrust the sword into the heart that had beaten for so little time.
Time seemed to stand still as we stood unmoving, numb with the grief at what we had done. However, time did pass. A medic came to check on us and screamed. We did not notice. To white-clad women took us away and locked us in the cells. We did not notice. Nor did we care when they took us to a court and charged us with treason. Neither of us spoke as we were led to a raised platform. Our eyes were hollow and dead, reflecting our souls. It was only as Mother, once the queen of thieves, stood above the trapdoor that my mind began to clear. Only as the trapdoor opened that I realise what was happening. As my mother swung on the end of the noose, I screamed ? a scream of pain and loss and terror. I was still screaming when they placed the rope around my neck, as they led me forward, as I felt my world give way.
