Well, now. Are we sitting comfortably? What's that you want Grandmother to tell you a story instead tonight? Well that's too bad. Grandmother is feeling unwell so I'll be telling you a story in her place.
Oh come now, my stories aren't that boring, and aren't bedtime stories supposed to make you sleep?
Well fine, if you insist. I'll tell you a story a story that Grandmother told me when I was very little, just like you are now.
It began a very, very long time ago, in a land long lost us all. There once stood a magnificent Kingdom, whose streets were adorned with great statues of alabaster, and it roofs shone bright with gold. And most of all, it's children never cried from hunger, pain nor fear. No not even the naughty children who keep pestering their parents for stories were in fear.
The kingdom was at peace and the people relished in their fortune and prosperity. Now as you know, every kingdom needs a King now doesn't it? And the ruler of this land was a King amongst Kings. Noble, gallant, kind yet strong, he led his people into a golden age. No-one loved the kingdom and it's people like the King did. And most of all, no price was too great to be paid for the good of his people...
The people's happiness shone bright throughout the land like a beacon for hope and joy for any and all travellers, wanderers, merchants or serfs in need of it, always willing to aid even it's neighbouring kingdoms. Yet like any beacon in a dark night, it caught more than just the eyes of the needing and deserving, but also the predatorial eye of the desperate and greedy who deemed to abuse it's charity.
For all the joy the Kingdom brought those within it, it brought upon itself the ire of all others. In neighbouring lands, the peasants starving by the wayside envied their providence, and the gluttonous nobles and rulers beyond the Kingdom's walls craved its vast wealth and prosperity, eyeing the Kingdom like hungry sharks, searching for any weakness to snap it all up and take it all away.
However, it was neither the starving peasants or gluttonous nobles from lands afar that ultimately ended the Kingdom's pleasant dreams. It was instead a far more sinister being that seaked to sink the Kingdom into a nightmare.
It happened on Sarz, the day of rest. From the surrounding forests a vile cloud of insects rose to obscure the Sun, and with them they brought plague and blight to the land. That day alone, hundreds died.
Stand strong. Said the King. I have sent messengers to all the surrounding nations in search of aid. We shall endure this pain, for our neighbours will save us as we have always saved them.
For the first 100 days the people still believed they could endure through the plagues and that help would come from the surrounding kingdoms to aid them in their time of need, for they never warred with the other nations, in fact they always helped them whenever they could. By the 365 day they gave up all hope of help from the outside. The kingdom shut its great walls to quarantine it's people and more fell to the plague.
For the first 100 days the people still believed they could endure through the plagues and that help would come from the surrounding kingdoms to aid them in their time of need, for they never warred with the other nations, in fact they always helped them whenever they could. By the 365 day they gave up all hope of help from the outside. The kingdom shut its great walls to quarantine it's people and more fell to the plague.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
On the dawn of the new year, the King had fallen to despair. His children lost to plague, his own rotting, disease wracked flesh soon to follow them close behind. He wailed. He screamed and cried for cruelty of it all. His cries echoed back the few hundred people just barely alive in the festering carcass of this once great Kingdom.
And so, on his deathbed, with no family nor adviser still alive to see him off to the other side, ‘it’ appeared to him. It came in the guise of man or woman he could not tell. A being manifested with hair like pooling blood and eyes like dying stars.
“I’ll save you and your people from death, but at a cost it whispered to him with the silken tongue of a serpent.”
“Anything. I’ll give you anything and everything within my power as King of this land”
So said the King with laboured breaths. And a smile, wide, wider even as if mocking the crescent moon bloomed on the apparition’s face. And then the deal was made and done.
The price? The price it asked, the payment it took was the very seed of the King’s rotting flesh and the souls of all within the Kingdom’s walls.
It was said that a great pillar of green fire erupted from the capital, like a dragon soaring ever heavenwards. The verdant flames spread, engulfing the Kingdom in it’s entirety, only stopping upon reaching it’s border walls. And in the wake of these terrible flames was a Hell upon the Earth.
As was promised, all souls were spared from death by plague and flame alike. Instead each and every man, woman and child were immortalised in their flesh, twisted into inhuman monstrosities shackled to the tortures of life by and undying body. This, this was the true cost of deal made of plague and damnation. The Sun no longer shone over the ruined Kingdom, the land engulfed in eternal cloud and fog. Pity the child that dare enter that land, for the immortals haunt that land forevermore. Undying, un-aging, yet forever hungry.
What? You wanted a story with a good and happy ending is that it? Well child, you’re more than old enough to now know that life doesn’t readily hand out good endings, and there’s more to a good story than a foolish prince eloping with a princess and living a happily ever after.
Gosh you really have the nerve to tell me that Grandmother would tell it better? Fine maybe she would, but if it pleases you to know, then that story hasn’t ended, it has more to it. In fact, it is even ongoing right as we speak. So who knows maybe there will be a happy ending to it after all.
No, I’m not going to tell you more of the story, do you know how long you’ve spent up already? Well It’s long past your bedtime. Honestly, when Father comes home I’ll have to tell him how much of a cheeky child you’ve been.
What’s that? You’re scared that an evil apparition will whisk you away from us all? Don’t be silly, you aren’t going anywhere, and neither am I. Okay, how about I tell you the rest of the story next time.
You’d prefer Grandmother to tell it to you next time…. You really are a cheeky child aren’t you.
Fine she will tell you the rest of the story tomorrow night, so head of to sleep now okay. Goodnight Meris. I love you too.