Dead Man's Warning - Part Three

The ending result of the death and evil that has begun to take over.

Before Dante could react his father decided to take over. Saul’s slouch straightened when he heard the name. “Guards-!”  Saul was stopped by the King before he could complete his orders.  

“He should not be here.” Saul whispered into the King’s ear, but he had chosen the wrong time to commit such an intimate act that made him appear as the King’s equal.

“We may have an understanding Saul, but do not forget you have no power over me �" learn your timing and place.” Hugh replied, wrenching his attention away from Saul and putting it back on the old man. The yelling in the room faded away as the people saw their King speaking to the man that had made them remember the nightmares and dreams they fought to forget.

“Xane Salvando, what are you doing here? Why do force me to do things I marked as my worst fears? You know what you’re forcing me to do, your orders were to keep away!”

The man slowly stood, putting his weight onto his wobbly knees, but he stood firm.  

“You’re going to die, we’re all going to die.”  Xane’s voice was faint, but his words were deeper than what they had seemed to be.

Saul moved to touch Hugh’s arm, but Hugh had moved away to push his son off of the arm he was originally invited to sit upon. Dante gladly stood, wishing to get away from the throne and the strange old man. He creeped his way back to his spot between the hall and the throne room without anyone noticing, everybody’s focus on the King and the dingy man who appeared to be important to the King.

“I’ve seen it with my own two eyes, she showed me-” the man stopped to take a breath and collect his thoughts before continuing, “the Seven plan to escape, and find the eighth. They’ll make madness, suffering beyond our worst nightmares, beyond the bravest man’s fears. Blue flames, and ancient death �" it’s coming, and you must all prepare. The end of time is coming.” Xane lifted himself to his feet, breathing heavily and looked at the King, tears trickling down the pathways of his wrinkles.

Everyone in the room was quiet, and their eyes all focused on him.

“I don’t care if you believe the truth or not, and make no matter whether you give my words any thought today or tomorrow. I know the truth, and choose not to live within the time that it will come.”

With more speed and purpose than any would have thought could come from the man, he pulled a knife from his rags. The quick glance anyone got of the blade revealed it to be black and silver with a jagged edge.

There was no time for anyone to jump to action, the blade was no threat to the King. Xane plunged the blade deep into his chest. He looked at the knife protruding from his chest, and the blood pouring from the wound onto his hands where they still gripped the hilt, and the rags that he wore for clothing.

The life drained from Xane’s eyes as the blood drained from his body. He collapsed to his knees before falling to the side in a heap at the king’s feet. Hugh said nothing as a single tear began to fall. He quickly wiped it away and forced himself to keep more from falling.

Before he made to address his subjects he stole one last glance at Xane and stared in shock at what was happening. Xane’s body had been lifeless, but it started to move. His jaw began to extend beyond what was normal. A scream beyond the human race erupted from his mouth, and his back seized, moving him across the floor. His screaming grew louder, and the vessels in his neck and arms grew larger the longer he seized. His eyes were still dark and dull in death.

His neck lashed from side to side, cracking with the breaking of bones. His arm rose above his head and forced itself behind his back, blood poured as his bone snapped and broke the skin. His bone was not white but black, and a terrible smelling brown pus slowly oozed from the bone. As it touched the floor smoke rose to the air, and ate away through the solid stone floors.

Everyone looked on in fear, but said nothing. The only sounds to be heard were the screaming from the dead man and the crying of children in the audience.

“Guards, go and move him.”

One by one the guards tentatively followed the king’s command, trying not to get too close to touching the man on the floor. They made to grab the rags still clinging to the flailing body, not wanting to touch the skin that had began to split under the pressure of blood. As one guard got too close Xane’s hand grabbed onto the man’s leg, tightening his grip more and more until the man screamed in agony. Suddenly the man’s skin broke, Xane’s fingernails melting into him. Despite the dying guard, the attention of the onlookers once again shifted to Xane. The man’s back was no longer arcing or splitting between bones, it was his neck straining beyond the agonizing pressures, to the point of his spine splitting in two; one half making its way through the skin and fabric that rested upon Xane’s surface. All over his body bones poked visibly through skin. Xane’s screaming and gags were empty and loud, no longer sounding human.

The more Xane moved, the more Hugh second guessed any decision that came to mind; this was not a situation he knew how to handle. Saul gripped his hand and he did not decline the comfort - foolish peasants seeing him hold a man’s hands was the least of his problems.

Black slime began to spurt from Xane’s mouth like a satanic fountain, coating the area around him and covering him entirely until there was nothing but  the thick slime that they could all see. One by one, all of the villeins in the room strained their heads as high as they could lift them; practically dislocating themselves,  to see the end result -  though none of them dared to step closer to the demonic ritual of terrors they had witnessed. As quickly as it happened, Hugh pulled his hand away from Saul. “My-”

Before The king could say another word, he was interrupted by the thick black smoke that appeared to come from the slime covering Xane’s body. The king had no words of comfort for his people. The slime appeared to be quickly dissolving the body, cleaning away the skin and muscle from the bone until they were all that was left. The bones appeared scorched as though they were met by a hot flame.

Once only the bones were left on the floor, the crowd in the hall stood struck by terror and shock. A slight steam was rising from the bones as they seemed to drink the slime.

Hugh stood from his throne, and in desperation for comfort everyone stared. There were questions bubbling up in their throats, but each tongue was held tight.  

“Guards.” Within seconds each guard came to attention, breaking the silence with one solid slam of their feet. Despite their fear, they had all managed to keep emotionless faces, emptily staring into the walls of the castle.

“Take them away.” Each guard held their arms wide to form a barrier to push the peasants back through the doors and into the streets, but they wouldn’t leave the King's presence that easy.

“You can’t do this!”

“What does it mean”

Back and forth and side to side, questions, orders and curses were shot throughout the room. “Tell us!”

“Help us!” The screams grew louder, and the barrier the guards formed began to break. In small groups, grimy men charged towards the King, hoping for answers.

“Are our children safe?”

“Will our seeds grow?”

“What are we to do?”

Over and over again, questions were screamed and repeated. Hugh said nothing. He just stared, trying not to feel, or cry in his fear in front of the panicking and enraged peasants. He could not think, nor could he move - he couldn’t begin to understand what had happened, and he had no plans of speaking words of comfort to appease them.

He followed the steps of his son as he slowly attempted to creep away, although he failed to do so unnoticed. Before he left through the doors, he could hear the screams of his subjects getting louder, the disparity in their voices increasing.

A guard came close enough for the king to grab him from the back of his steel collar, “get them all out of my throne room, kill all that don’t back down.” Hugh’s jaw tightened at the thought of the deaths of his people. Behind his shoulder was Saul. He looked back hoping to find comfort in his eyes, but was disappointed. Saul’s eyes were wide and glassy in shock. His body grew limp with each scream he heard, more so if a child’s plea was strong enough to be heard above all of the rest.

Before Hugh could see where he was the door was shut, and the screams and slashes of swords were muffled behind the door. Hugh slumped against the heavy doors gasping for air, leaving Saul heaving on the floor.

“Hugh?” A faint voice came from the end of the hall. Izevel’s voice was curious, but the fear was evident in her tone. None of the three spoke, closing their faces of all emotion. Hugh’s stare strayed from his wife to Saul, but unlike before, he knew what to do, and what he wanted.

“Get me Xenophus”

Before another breath was shared, Hugh walked away from the two people in his life thinking to himself. The b*****d was right.

Author's Note

Hope you liked it, please comment and rate, and send me read requests.- thanks for your time :)