The Crimson Emperor & The Serpentine Girl

The Crimson Emperor & The Serpentine Girl

Heartbeat at its maximum, the girl's eyes darted from the sanguine coated limb to the bare lower half of the man in panic. Tensing her entire body, Malikah let out a screeching howl before being her captor had a chance to further his torture.

The High Priest flew back from an unknown force and only stopped to due to crashing into the foot of his throne. Trembling at the feeling that had assaulted him, his eyes landed on the sobbing child scraping herself up off the floor. “W-what are you...”

Head hanging, Malikah slid the imported blade off the side and released it from its sheath. “Beg.”

Not quite convinced the girl could do anything in her state, the older man provoked his prey. Clambering back up to a standing position, the High Priest snarled at his pet that was revolting. “You even bark like a dog! Put that down, you stupid gir-”

The polished blade cut through blood soaked air without hesitation and then flesh in one fell swoop.

Sitting over his hip, Malikah held the sword up as far as it would go and then down into his head and chest in a frenzy while petal like sprays dowsed her entirety. The only reason she stopped when she did was because there was hardly anything left of the upper torso to cut, only minced meat and a spreading pool of crimson remained of the man that had put her through Hell for so many years.

Serpentine eyes narrowed as a barely visible victorious smirk stretched into an ominous grin. Smearing her free hand over her face, the warm stickiness conjured up a hysteric laugh from the child.

Hopping up off of the mangled body, Malikah snatched up the pristine white cloth laced with threads of gold that had belonged to the High Priest and shrugged them onto the body still drenched in red. She stared down at herself: at the crispness of the robes slowly soaking up blood around the hemlines, at the weapon she had used, and at the hands which had produced some kind of odd magic which had saved her.

Tightening her grip on the handle of the blade, she bared her teeth as her smile grew even further.
 

Rolling her shoulders as she reached the foot of the steps to the alter, Malikah struck the sword down, resulting in a flicker of brilliant scarlet decorating the once white floor.

She had worked her way through the entire village slaughtering every last one that crossed her path. Now, the only people left were the fools still praying to that damned God. He wasn't going to save them - No one would. What gave them the right to beg for help and forgiveness when they had done nothing for her regardless of knowing what she had to go through. She wouldn't allow it; it made her so furious to see such hypocrites flailing about with clasped hands and mumbling text written passages with fake hope.

She was God now, and she would be the one to pass their judgement. The verdict was final: death.

Taking the weapon with both hands, she mowed through the remaining handful with glee. Gurgling cries and pathetic pleas quickly died out and soon, the only sound that she could hear was the steadying of her heartbeat and the storm hanging over the purged island.

Dropping the blade where she stood, Malikah strode up the final step that was reserved as 'God's seat' and huffed back into the alabaster throne adorned with white thorn roses now dyed red.

She wasn't sure how long had passed, but the sun hadn't dawned yet, when the the real thunder was overshadowed by boots marching in time. With eyes shut comfortably, the young girl listened to the hysteria and confusion echoing from the village. In no time at all, foreign soldiers burst into the holy place.

“What happened?” One of the men at the front held the back of his forearm over his mouth.

Malikah glanced over to see the group of three. “I killed them.” She told.

Another soldier squinted in shock. “She's just a kid...”

A boy from the back pushed his way through to get a better look at the scene inside the temple. Corpses, just like throughout the rest of the village, had been dismembered and strewn about carelessly as their innards painted the area's surrounding their bodies. Hand resting on the pommel of his sword, the young man with hair that matched the carnage, advanced to the foot of the steps from where he peered up at the girl.

Like some kind of vision, the child sat casually on the milk coloured cathedra surrounded by wreathes and voluminous roses sprayed crimson while moonlight began to filter in through the skylight. With a leg dangling over one side and her head resting on a hand that was propped on the arm rest, the girl looked her guest straight in the eye and waited for him to make his move.

Standing firm in his spot, the foreigner spoke clearly. “Did you really kill all of these people?”

“Yes.” She stated, unfazed by the situation.

“Why?” He didn't sound angry, or even surprised.

Malikah lacked hesitation. “I'm their God. I can do anything if it pleases me.”

Completely enthralled by the reply, the young man steadily walked up the steps until he was within a couple of feet from the girl. “Pleased to meet you, I'm the First Prince, Ren Kōen. But, out of curiosity, what do you plan to do now that all of your subjects are dead?”

“I don't have any plans.” She continued to stare at his face blankly.

Crouching down to become eye level with the girl, Kōen offered flatly, as if it was more like a testing question. “Then come back with me.”

Tensing at the thought of being shipped around again, Malikah scrunched up her face yet kept her even tone. “Tell me why I must?”

Sharp eyes narrowed further to create slits while a small smile graced his lips. “Because you're a murderer now. You have nothing left. Someone will snatch you up and sell you off as a slave, for God's are very sought after.”

“I never had anything to begin with.” The girl scoffed at the mere thought of someone thinking she had anything of the sort.

“All the more reason to accompany me back to my homeland.” He repaid the favour of keeping his eyes on his conversation, inspecting her expression and retaining his guard just in case she wanted to take a pot at him too.

Eying the older man, Malikah hummed. “And what will you have me do? Is there any point in asking for my co-operation when you could easily just 'snatch me up' for yourself?” She finished off by flapping her hand mockingly.

Standing up and straightening out, Kōen peered down on the girl. “I think it's best for people to think for themselves.”

At that moment, Malikah felt something stir within herself. She'd seen liars and cheats all of her life and he wasn't one of them. There was something cold about his eyes, but she would pin it more to ambition and strong will rather than deceit and trickery.

Ammolite eyes widened as tears began to spill from her sockets. She was overtaken with an unshakable surge in her being. No matter which way she looked at him, under these circumstances, in this light, he wasn't like anyone else she'd ever seen before. 'Is he a God himself?' There was nothing she could possibly lose by accepting his offer, yet everything to gain. And so, on a whim, she did. “Take me with you...Kōen.”
 

Updated: 17th Feb 2013 - 05:10am