top of page

The Dead King

A future scene involving one half of the twin villains, Minerva.

​

Intended Audience: Adult

TW: talk of torture; talk of rape; child abuse; child death; sacrifice; death; resurrection attempt

​

© Two Realms Publishing

Minerva stared out across the bridge. Not that she could see anything beyond the fog. She ground her jaw, narrowed her eyes, and dug her claws into her palm. It had taken her years to get here. She was so close to home and still so far away. A barrier stood between her and the key required to resurrect her twin. Although she'd arrived on this isle two weeks ago, all of her attempts to destroy this barrier had failed. And her minions had yet to find a way around it. The damn thing surrounded the whole fucking isle. 

​

"Mistress?" her soldier called out to her.

​

"If you have returned this quickly--" she stated as she dragged her fingers through the fog. It sparked and blue electric currents ran along her finger-pads. Not that she noticed any pain. "--then you must have found me an infant." There was more than one way to resurrect her brother. It didn't matter that her two prior tries had both proven unsuccessful. Of all the nights for her to try, tonight was the night.

​

"No, Mistress. We have searched and found nothing."

​

Spinning on the back of her heel, she struck him across the face. "Then you should not have returned," Minerva growled. "Find me an infant! Scour the entire isle if you must. I do not care what it takes. Do not fail me or I will let my demon have his way with you."

​

"Yes, Mistress." He bowed his head and slowly backed away.

​

Her gaze flicked to Jeris, her general, as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Unless you have something useful to contribute, I would keep your remarks to yourself." With a sneer, she faced the barrier. There had to be a way around this thing.

​

"They found you a toddler. Would that not suffice?" Jeris asked.

​

"No. I require something of the utmost purity." She'd used toddlers in the last two resurrection attempts. While she could have faulted the bodies previously selected, either could've been the problem. That's why she intended to rectify both. "Have you chosen a suitable body?"

​

"Yes. I believe Commander Cipher is your best option. He's strong in both physical strength and mental. He should contain Markham's soul without issue."

​

Minerva stroked her chin as she churned Cipher's attributes in her mind. On Prisma Isle, neither she nor her twin possessed a human form. None of the shape shifters did. They all had two forms--animal and humanoid--in which they retained their fur. That had changed for her sometime over the last few hundred years. All her minions had a human form. While she didn't care about Cipher's attractiveness, she cared that he could effectively possess her brother's soul and power. And his physicality certainly supported her general's assessment. The male had broad shoulders; a burly, well-built, and well-toned body; dark hair and eyes. And he was quite observant. He'd quickly risen through the ranks since the day he'd declared his loyalty to her eight years ago. It had been his keen eyes that found the last betrayer among her people. "Yes, he will do rather nicely."

​

"Would you like to take him for a test before fully committing to that decision, Mistress?"

​

"That will not be necessary." She'd used him for service before and rewarded him enough over the years to know how well he fucked. Her twin was the one who had gotten himself killed. He'd accept whatever she gave him. Though she'd ensure it was someone who'd pleased her over the years. "Besides, I need him in the best condition possible. Remove him from duty and get him bathed in citrus, lavender, and myrtle oils. He needs to be purified for tonight's ritual."

​

"Of course, Mistress." Jeris bowed his head and turned on the back of his heel.

​

"General," she called out over her shoulder. "Have you forgotten something?" Not that she should've had to remind him of the report she expected. They'd repeated part of this for the last ten days. Just to cover her bases, Minerva tapped into his mind and searched through it. Hmm, nothing out of the ordinary. It still belonged to her. The spell she'd cast on him a few centuries back still held true. Good. He served her well. She'd hate to demote him. Though some time had passed since she last held a public execution. Unlike her twin, she handled her army with a bit more finesse.

​

He spun around, faced her, and dipped his chin low. "My apologies, Mistress. Neither squadron has found a way through or around the barrier. It still prevents us from crossing to Prisma Isle."

​

"I tire of your failure to get me home." Minerva scowled. Must she do everything herself? No. She simply needed to delegate things better. Even with her general's mind under her control, she only trusted him so much. "Perhaps it is time you try another approach." While she worked her own angle. Desdemona, she mentally summoned her daughter. Get out to the bridge with the priestess and find us a way to the other side. That magic woman had gotten her this far. But it wasn't enough. She wanted across this bridge.

​

Yes, Mother, her daughter telepathically responded.

​

"As you wish, Mistress," Jeris replied.

​

Minerva ran her fingers through the fog and watched as electrical sparks danced across her alabaster flesh. "Yes, as I wish," she repeated. "I will return to Prisma Isle." And, once she did, she'd destroy those who stood in her way. Tear it apart piece by piece. As for the one that killed her brother, she'd make that bitch bleed. "They will not know what hit them," she declared as a broad grin settled upon her face.

​

~*~

​

"Go ahead. Tell her what you told me," Desdemona demanded as she gestured for the priestess to take a step forward. The news the woman offered regarding the barrier annoyed her. Though it might give her an opportunity to play a little. Provided her mother agreed. She folded her arms across her chest. The hem of her corset rose ever so slightly.

​

Hesitantly, the blonde strode closer but kept her eyes on the ground. "My apologies, Mistress, but I'm unable to break the barrier."

​

With a snarl, Desdemona grabbed the woman's thick locks and yanked on them. The female's gasp and tears didn't do a damn thing to deter her. They infuriated her more. "I didn't tell you to simplify! She needs to hear everything you told me." 

​

"Yes, ma'am," the priestess conceded. "The barrier... it's too strong. Its caster... they're extremely powerful. I might break it, but it will take time." 

​

"How much time?" her mother growled as she narrowed her dark gray eyes.

​

When the female didn't answer, Desdemona tugged harder on the priestess' hair. She might have pulled a few strands loose. "She asked you a question!" 

​

The priestess whimpered. But she refused to loosen her grip. Instead, Desdemona tightened it. "Months!" the simpering female hollered. "Maybe years," she tacked on.

​

"That doesn't seem like a satisfactory response to me. How does it sound to you, Mother?" Not that she really needed to ask. Her mother wished to return to Prisma Isle as much as she desired to see it. It wasn't just about meeting her father. Because her mother might resurrect him this night. They'd both promised to give her a bit more... free reign once they returned home. And she couldn't wait to discover all the fun toys it offered. Especially ones that might last longer than the wretched humans she'd grown up around.

​

"Far from good enough," her mother sneered. "I believe you can do better." 

​

"Perhaps she needs some encouragement," Desdemona said. A sly grin settled on her ruby-red lips. "It's been some time since we had a public punishment." Just because she couldn't kill the female, didn't mean she couldn't hurt her. "And with so many fresh faces, it would be a shame not to educate them on how we despise being... disappointed."

​

Her mother tapped an elongated black claw against her chin. "You are right. We are so far from accomplishing our goals. Do as you see fit... but no permanent scarring. At least, nothing that will damage a body part she needs to use." 

​

"Of course not, Mother." With a slight bow of her head, she dragged the priestess along behind her toward the courtyard. It was nice and public. They had posts out there with chains to hold the female in place. Oh, and she had that nice new toy she'd found among the many raids she and Draven had taken on the isle. Oh, yes. That would do nicely.

​

"Please," the priestess begged. "I'll figure it out! Please, don't hurt me!"

​

"You should've thought of that earlier." Her stilettos clicked with each step she took. It echoed off the walls as she strode down the hall. Normally, she'd summon her twin so they could play together. But this one belonged to her alone. Besides, they couldn't kill the priestess... yet. And it wouldn't be any fun if she had to share.

​

"Please, I'll do anything!"

​

If she didn't know any better, she'd swear the female cried. Desdemona sniffed the air. The sweet, salty scent of tears wafted down the hall. A low purr rumbled deep in her chest. Oh, yes. That was a smell she rather enjoyed. And she hadn't even begun. Exiting the building, she paused just outside the door and basked in the faint glimmer of the sun's rays. Nothing too bright. It was enough that all the workers could witness the priestess' punishment. "Keep begging and maybe I'll go easy on you."

​

"Whatever you want, ma'am. Just please, please, please don't hurt me." 

​

Desdemona glanced over her shoulder at the blonde-haired woman. "It's a punishment. Pain is kind of the point. Though, I think I'll alter yours a little. After all, I am my parents' daughter." Both of them liked to make a spectacle in different ways. She summoned the bullwhip made of bone she'd found a few days back. Tugging the priestess along, Desdemona surveyed the clearing as they headed toward the stage built in the center. Several soldiers watched over slaves they had working on various things. Her gaze flicked to the twins. Two tall, broad-shouldered feline shape shifters. Both were bulky in their own right. They'd joined them a year ago. Oh, yes. They'd do nicely.

​

She practically dragged the priestess up the staircase and tossed her to the floor. Flicking her gaze to the guard, she pointed at the blonde-haired woman. “Disrobe her and chain her up.” As he followed her instructions, Desdemona located the twins. “Sketch… Zip… join me here.”

​

The two dark-haired males dipped their chins and approached the stage. They stopped just off to the side. “What is your desire?” Zip asked.

​

Desdemona’s eyes hooded. Neither of them could truly fulfill her desire. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t do what she wanted. “Consider this a gift. I know it’s been quite some time since either of you had the pleasure of a female. Once I’m through… pick a hole.”

​

Broad grins crossed the two males’ faces as they exchanged a quick glance at one another. “As you wish,” Zip stated.

​

“No, please,” the female begged. “Whatever you want! I’ll do whatever you want!” the priestess pleaded. Tears streamed down her face as the guard locked a chain around each of her wrists. Her naked body was on full display. “Please, ma’am… please… don’t do this!”

​

Staring out across the crowd, Desdemona tapped the bull whip’s handle against her palm. “Attention citizens of Candescent Isle. The priestess here has failed in her missive to get us across the bridge to Prisma Isle. As this is something we don’t abide by, she will be punished. I suggest you learn from her crimes. Failure is not an option.” Turning around, she drew the whip back and struck the female’s back. The woman cried out in agony as blood trickled down her alabaster flesh.

​

Desdemona snaked her tongue across her bottom lip. Oh, yes. Ten lashings, followed by two males publicly fucking the priestess, served as an excellent punishment. Especially lowly soldiers who didn’t get whores as a privilege. The looks on their faces said it all. They wouldn’t go easy on the priestess. But the female would remain in one piece. Once that was said and done, she might just go find her twin. Then again, maybe she should let him in on the show. She shot the telepathic message through their mindlink, Come join me in the courtyard, brother mine. He'd enjoy this as much as she would.

​

~*~

​

Minerva completed the last of the purification ritual on Cipher. She peered out the window and noted the moon’s position. It was almost midnight, and they still had yet to return with the infant she required. Her gaze flicked to the nestling, rattling its cage and screaming its head off in the corner, begging for its mother. She might not have any other choice. Unlike the simpletons on Prisma Isle who would spend the evening tossing coins into a fountain in celebration of a useless god, she’d make much better use of tonight. All Hallows Eve. A night when not only was the veil at its thinnest but coincided with a full moon, too. While she suspected some on Prisma Isle might hang around waiting for their dead loved ones to show up, she’d give her brother a life anew.

​

Turning toward her work table, Minerva collected the devil’s berries retrieved earlier and tossed them into the mortar. Belladonna. It wasn’t a quick way to go, normally. But she didn’t need Cipher to die too quickly. Though she’d add a little magic to speed the process up a bit. Just enough to please the gods. She picked up the pestle and crushed the berries. She glanced at Cipher out of her periphery. He remained seated, perfectly still, as if this was his life’s purpose. A male who did exactly as he was told without question. It was almost a shame she had to kill him to resurrect her brother. But it had to be an even exchange. One life for another. And Markham was of greater value.

​

Her ears twitched as the loud cry of a newborn echoed off the walls. As she added more berries to the mortar, she turned toward the sound.

​

Jeris strolled through the doorway. He paused on the other side of her work table, clutching an infant in his arms. “As you requested, Mistress.”

​

“At least you did something right.” This wasn’t the best spell for resurrection, but it was the only one she had. Just like the keys she and Markham had created over three centuries ago, her father’s grimoire remained hidden on Prisma Isle. And even with her demon’s power, she wasn’t strong enough to break that damn barrier alone. She’d require her brother’s aid. If only that damn bird hadn’t escaped their clutches. Or if he hadn’t gotten himself killed. She’d warned him when he found that stone to be careful with it. Had he listened? Of course, not. Not that he ever had.

​

Her mind flashed back to the bet they’d made when they were younger. Minerva smirked. At least some good would come from his death. He’d have no choice but to bow down to her now. She finished crushing the last of the berries and pointed to a spot on the table. “Set the infant down.” It was almost time.

​

“What would you like me to do with the nestling, Mistress?” Jeris inquired as he carefully laid the wriggling babe on her work table.

​

“Leave it. I am certain my brother will be hungry once he arises.” Unwrapping the blanket from the newling, she removed its clothing and revealed its pale, silky flesh. Yes, this would do well. It couldn’t be more than a few weeks old. Perhaps a month, at best. Her eyes flicked briefly to her general, who still stood by the table. “Leave. Your presence is no longer required.”

​

“Yes, Mistress.” With that, he dipped his chin low, spun on the back of his heel, and disappeared down the hallway.

​

Minerva gathered the ceremonial blade from the table’s drawer. The infant’s cries grew louder as she drew the sharp edge across its throat. Not that the noise deterred her. She quite enjoyed its screams, almost as much as she enjoyed the wails of the nestling. It could cry itself hoarse for all she cared. Setting the blade aside, she dipped her claws into the pool of crimson spewing forth from the newborn’s neck. Minerva eyed the position of the moon one last time, confirming it was midnight. She faced Cipher, and rested a claw against his olive-toned skin. “Do you willingly accept the mark of Hades?”

​

“Yes, Mistress.”

​

As she began etching the mark into his flesh, blood rising beneath her claw, she continued, “Do you willingly sacrifice your soul to Hades?”

​

“Yes, Mistress.”

​

“Do you willingly give your body to your king, Markham, for his use and power?”

​

“Yes, Mistress.”

​

“Do you willingly offer Hades your life exchanging it for your king, Markham?”

​

“Yes, Mistress.”

​

As she finished the mark, her tongue snaked out across her bottom lip. The power flowing through her lit up every nerve ending in her body. And they weren’t done yet. Minerva retrieved the bowl of Belladonna and handed it to Cipher. “Do you drink willingly?”

​

“Yes, Mistress.” Cipher pressed the edge of the bowl to his lips, drank its contents in its entirety, and presented the empty dish to her.

​

Setting the bowl aside, she turned, picked up the ceremonial blade, and cut out the now-dead infant’s heart. Despite the small chest, it took her a moment to maneuver around the rib cage. It reminded her of the night she and Markham had created the keys. The blood moon, the twin trolls they’d sacrificed, and the hearts they’d eaten. The immense power that had flowed through them then was so much stronger than that which poured through her now. But that spell had been much more powerful. Minerva held the tiny organ out to Cipher. “Do you willingly consume this newling’s heart?”

​

“Yes, Mistress,” he replied. Without hesitation, his dark gaze met hers and he bit into the small heart as if it were nothing more than a piece of meat.

​

She watched eagerly as he swallowed every bite. One right after the other. Hades, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Once Cipher had consumed the last of the heart, he laid out on the long wooden table. Minerva secured a pair of steel cuffs around both of his wrists and ankles. It wouldn’t take long now. As she stood over his body, she raised her hands, summoned Hades, and called upon his power. “Accept this soul, god of the dead, and release Markham unto the fold. Return him to his brethren. Place him in this body with complete control over his power. Release him, Hades! I command thee, let Markham rise!”

​

Having uttered every word in the common tongue, she changed to the old language. With her demand made, Minerva placed her hands on Cipher’s body, one palm pressed against his chest, the other against his abs. Belladonna could take hours for the effects to kick in, but with a little magic, she decreased that time to a few minutes. A red glow covered her hands as she continued chanting.

​

Cipher’s body convulsed. His back arched as he struggled against the chains holding him down. Not that he let out a single scream. His jaw clenched with each spasm that took hold of him.

​

Fuck, it was a sight to behold. It wasn’t just in the way each muscle tightened, but how much the male held his own. How each individual muscle repeatedly contracted and released in multiple places at once, just for the process to begin again. It set a blaze burning deep in her core. No matter how turned on she got, she didn’t stop chanting. Not even when Cipher’s heart rate increased. It only spurred her on more.

​

The male dug his claws into his palms as the beating of his heart picked up. As another spasm rolled through him, he clamped his jaw down. His fangs pricked his bottom lip. The sweet scent of copper filled the air. His body relaxed one last time, and he exhaled his final breath.

​

“I command thee, arise!” The red glow around her hands dissipated. The power that had flowed through her disappeared. And she waited.

​

Nothing happened.

​

Cipher didn’t move. Nothing changed. The male simply laid there, perfectly still. No heartbeat registered. All she heard was the pounding of her own heart behind her chest and the wails of the nestling. “No!” Minerva screamed. She slammed her fists down on the dead male’s chest. “No! No! No!” She hadn’t failed… again. This wasn’t happening. Not a third time. She hadn’t just wasted days of preparation.

​

Except it appeared she had. She grabbed the mortar and hauled it across the room. It crashed into the stone wall, shattering into a dozen pieces all over the floor. With a snarl, she swept her arm across the table to her left and sent a multitude of bottles crashing to the ground. Herbs and potions landed with several loud clinks.

​

Not that it changed anything.

​

She’d still failed.

​

Breathing heavily, Minerva gripped the edge of the table where Cipher’s motionless body lay. “I will bring you back, brother,” she mumbled. Regardless of how long it took. She wouldn’t leave him over there. Since nothing she’d tried made this spell work, it meant she needed his key. There was only one path forward. While the priestess recovered from her earlier punishment and worked on a way to get them across that damn bridge, she’d focus on what she could accomplish here. And make Candescent Isle and its inhabitants work for them. After all, the bigger her army, the more damage they could do once they returned to Prisma Isle.

​

And they would go back.

​

Nothing would stand in her way. Nothing.

bottom of page