SHHHHHHHHHH THUNK*
A huge door is swung open presenting 4 guards in its wake. Two of them usher to the side making way for the others. The other two enter the room walking in with a sickly pale man. He appears to be no older than 30 but the torture that ensued him would make you believe he’s on death’s doorstep. He is shown wearing rags that muster a horrendously intoxicating smell that would activate anyone's fight-or-flight instinct. Due to being shackled, he hasn’t bathed in what appears to be weeks and his refusal to eat the slop served caused his stomach to almost show through his back, while his bones are most prominent through his skin.
He is thrown onto the ground falling to his knees.
CLINK* CLINK*
Chains now latched onto him, he is unable to move or resist whatever is to happen next. “His majesty please, you know not of what you do.” The man's face is then met by a heavy boot. Though struck by a guard the man doesn't make a sound.
“Shut it! You dare speak in the presence of your lord! Since you lack respect, I’ll teach you a lesson-” The king raises a hand and the guard stiffens as if a shock runs through his bones causing him to tremble. Taking a few steps back the guard stumbles over his own words in an attempt to please the king “Y-Your m-majesty. M-my apologies, I-I shouldn’t have had such an outburst. I’ll contain my anger, I promise!” entering a deep bow he rushes back to his post still trembling but now silent, even as to not let out a breath.
The room is silent with only the gasping breaths of the convicted man being heard. Struggling to open his blackened eyes he is met with a courtroom in an expansive space with towering walls of polished white marble, gleaming under the light that streams in from the tall, arched windows.
The ceiling is a vaulted dome, painted with intricate frescoes of mythological figures and scenes. At the center of the room stands an imposing throne, crafted from the same pristine white marble as the walls. In front of the throne, a raised platform stretches the length of the room made of white marble and lined with ornate columns, giving the impression of a grand temple. In the center of the platform sits a long, rectangular table where the lawyers, defendants, and plaintiffs sit. With no one to his defense, he notices he’s at the mercy of this tyrant and begins trembling.
Overall, the courtroom is a grand and imposing space, designed to convey nothing more than a sense of authority. Its marble construction and ornate details lend it an air of timeless elegance, while the high ceilings and tall windows create a sense of freedom. His eyes peer away from the king's as if not to challenge or offend him.
Closing his eyes he stands taking a step towards the king, “Y-you must listen to me-”
“Kneel.”
Thump! Thump! The prisoner's heart beats like a drum resonating through his body to his ears and out of his mouth in the form of exasperated breaths. He finds himself on his knees seemingly perplexed not fully grasping the situation he’s in. A king is a man of large stature.
With gold-plated armor and a large luscious beard, he is the epitome of said king.
Many claims to have witnessed the King being able to lift 100 times that of the average man, so due to his horrifying strength and mana reserve, he is rumored to be incarnate of the devil himself… But at this moment I saw no devil… no… The devil would have left me in that dungeon to croak. No, this man is worse than the devil, because he's the one that takes you to him… This man is none other than death himself.
Why can’t I move…
“I- I don't want to die, Please… D-dont k-kill…” His eyes peer up to meet the king’s gaze.
"DOOM…" Rang through his ears
I want to move, I need to run. How do I disappear? How? Think, think there's got to be a way.
He looks the king in the eyes once more this time feeling as if something began crawling within his bones through his brain and around his ears
…So this is fear… The man thought as his mind raced, falling deeper into despair not knowing a way out.
The king stands revealing a scar searing down the right side of his face rendering his eye useless. Masked by the shadows surrounding him he continues, “Do you know what crime stands against you?”
“H-huh?”
Calmly the king repeats himself, “The crime you have committed? Do you know what it is?”
“I-it's thievery your majesty.”
The king now finding this situation amusing smiles taking another step down from his throne still masked by shadow throwing A blazing dagger pierces the flesh of the man's thigh, the cracking of bone, tearing of muscle, and the smell of meat fills the room as the man helplessly restrained can do nothing more than stare in pain as his mouth foams. He eventually falls unconscious with his mouth widened in a regressive state.
“Do not converse with me so naturally u grotesque thing.”
Unsheathing a blade made entirely of flame the king takes several steps forward stating sharply, "I don't care for whether or not you committed the heinous crime of thievery, this blazing blade shall be the embodiment of my rage, Now hear me!”
The king pierces the man's other thigh with the sword cutting clean through bone only allowing a clear snap* to be heard. As steam leaves the man's leg no blood is noticed, just bubbling, burning flesh. His skin melts as the fire rages on, seemingly snapping him back to reality, The man releases a blood-curdling scream as the king only begins to twist his blade.
Suddenly he rips it out with fragments of bone and pieces of flesh, The noise leaves many uneasy as they watch the King’s display of authority. The King looks at the man's face and does nothing but smile. The king proceeds to kick the man in his chest leaving him with no more air to scream.
“You are nothing more than an example of what's to come. No more food and water. Let him dry up and die slowly in some dungeon far from here.” he proceeds to lift the man by his hair and reveal his elongated ears. Raising his hand a small dagger conjured from fire emerges from thin air.
Slowly lowering his blade onto the man's ear he begins squirming and pleading once again as the cartilage from his ear tears away peeling from his head leaving a fountain of blood only to be seared shut by the heat and conjured flame. All that’s remaining is his ear beside him. Being kicked once again the guards lift the man and carry him away with the heavy door slamming behind them.
The king now returning to his throne shows a sign of pride and excitement.
A few minutes upon returning to his throne the king's eyes widen as he focuses his attention on the blank ceiling, looking not at it but past it in fear as to what’s coming. As he opens his mouth to ready a command, the kingdom is consumed by a blinding light steering from across the world, leaving behind rubble and what can only be described as a massacre.
Aisenhower 4 D.W (4 years During War)
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