Chapter 89: Nightmare, Part 1
The Queen.
He, just a run-of-the-mill office worker, another idiot trying to climb the corporate ladder. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d become important enough to simply go and request an audience with the queen. A real queen, one with power and authority, who made the decisions. She wasn’t just a relic from a past where those kinds of titles meant a damn thing. Besides, she was the monarch of this kingdom. There was no king, no meddling husband getting in her way.
That much he had learned, though only after screwing up. It was just her, the queen. No kings, no princes, no consorts, none of that other crap. At least for now. He also found out, albeit in a much subtler way, that the queen, age-wise, looked more like a princess. Young, very young. She had been forced to take the throne after her parents were murdered. Which had led to conflicts he couldn’t care less about, conflicts that he couldn’t give two shits about.
In any case, Anabela seemed like a juicy target. Of course, finding Hunger and dealing with her domain was the top priority. But if he could also take advantage of the royal brat, all the better. He couldn’t wait to reach the palace. He imagined it would be just the kind of environment he needed. A place teeming with snakes like him. People who lived and breathed deception.
He never said it would be easy to manipulate the queen, but that was better. It would make it all the more satisfying to have her eating out of the palm of his hand. That was exactly what he needed after so many fights, so many life-threatening situations. A bit of manipulation, some mind games, like in the beginning, during the best part of his new life. Back when he played with his prey, and no one even suspected what was happening. When he did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, without consequences and without really having to put in much effort. Definitely without getting his hands dirty or risking his life. That was much more his style.
The image of a king who didn’t have to lift a finger to make his problems disappear. Yes, that suited him perfectly. Maybe it would require sacrificing the affection of his closest and most long-desired playthings, but that was a price he was willing to pay.
——
“Pleasure is one of the basic needs of any human being,” said Hunger, spreading her arms wide as if to encompass the entire chapel. “Have you sisters never wondered why the good Lord wants us to restrain ourselves when it comes to carnal pleasures? If that’s the case, then why are they pleasures? Why are they essential for the continuation of the species? Something everyone is forced to enjoy, whether they want to or not?”
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A head fell from the ceiling, exploding on impact with the floor. What remained could hardly have been recognized as something that once belonged to a head.
“You don’t live in faith, humility, and devotion. You live repressed, humiliated, manipulated, for fuck’s sake.”
The pews were supposed to be wooden, but a significant portion was painted red for some reason. Red like paint was everywhere.
“I know what you’re asking yourselves: if this isn’t the way, then what is? What are we supposed to do? It’s simple. Nothing. You’re free to follow your own path. The only god you follow isn’t the light of truth, but one that blinds you and forces you to grope around in the darkness of ignorance. Life is difficult and complex. You can’t seriously believe there’s only one answer to every question, every mystery.”
Hunger reached the altar and sat on it, crossing her legs. She wore only a thin, white, semi-transparent dress. But what stood out the most was her belly. It looked as though she were heavily pregnant, ready to give birth at any moment. Yet it had only been a day or two. Time was easy to lose track of for her, anyway.
“My lord Lucifer, morning star, isn’t the only light either. Just a light. But at least he gave you freedom, the knowledge to discern good from evil, the opportunity to choose. And what have you done with that gift? Chosen—if you can even call it that—to kneel and bow your heads, to be slaves, to be blind. To think of the mysterious plan of a god you don’t even know, instead of forging your own path under your own light. And you build these temples as if to spit in his face?”
Hunger shook her head.
“You’re all a bunch of ungrateful bastards. That’s why it’s time to pay for your sins. That’s why the trumpets of the apocalypse are sounding. That’s why we’ve awakened and walk the world once more. All of us, the four sisters. Except for one. My dear sister Death needs a bit more of a push. You too, for that matter. That’s why I’ll prepare the table and the tablecloth properly for the occasion, for the feast that’s coming.”
Hunger clenched her fists, digging her nails in deeply.
“What better place to give birth to the Antichrist’s child than a convent, after all?”
It was a monologue with no audience.
The moonlight streaming through the windows fell only on dismembered corpses. On blood so red it didn’t even look real. Pools and pools of it. So many pieces that it would have been impossible to determine how many people had died there.
“My sister,” said Hunger, “it’s time for you to come lend me a hand.”
Nightmare, Part 1: END