Death of a King

Chapter 22

"I said to return his heart, not break it." The skeletal beast laughed in spite, rattling the chains wrapped around his motorcycle as he leaned on the handlebars. Those jagged teeth jutted outwards as his smile grew monstrous in nature, "You're making this far too easy for me, darling. Do you want him to die?"

    No, of course not! It wasn't my fault that Dustin wanted something I couldn't offer. Whether my decision held intelligence or not, it at least held respect. Maybe Jake was cheating on me, everyone else seemed to think so, but he's innocent until proven guilty and I have no substantial evidence to do so at this time.

    The beast climbed off his bike, strolling towards me with a jingle of metal against worn out leather, "You keep telling yourself that. At this rate, you and Dustin will both be mine long before you ever come to terms with what you know has already happened."

    My focus on the beast faded away, his words echoing in my ears while my eyes trailed on a sight most gruesome. Dustin, still nestled on his throne, but coated in a color I knew all too well.

    The thorns piercing his skin were gone, returned to the wood from whence they came. But their carnage remained, grisly holes gaping in random positions throughout his body. The amount of blood gushing from these holes was alarming, pooling on the ground at Dustin's feet. With each second that passed, he paled further, and soon no blood was left.

    A deep, malicious snarl sounded from behind me, then the beast stomped past my trembling body as he made haste for Dustin. Once in reach, the creature collapsed to his knees, splashing blood onto his clothes and boney face.

    He cupped his hands, lowered them into the crimson pool at his knees, then lifted his overflowing hands to his lips where the blood flowed past the beast's mouth and down his throat. A satisfied moan escaped him, ringing clearly throughout the darkness around us. A reptilian tongue darted out, licking up the remaining blood that dribbled down his chin.

    But he didn't stop there. A moment later the beast rose to his feet almost frantically, jerked Dustin's arm out to the side, and bit into the fleshy part of Dustin's forearm.

    Then ripped the skin free with his teeth.

    I'd like to say I've grown numb to such repulsive displays, especially in this dreamworld from hell. But I haven't, and my chest ached at seeing Dustin's limited reaction to having his arm be stripped free from flesh. He didn't wince or cry out, he remained silent. Desolate and distant in both mind and emotion.

    I looked away, hiding myself from this morbid sight. But even with my eyes cast downward, I heard a moist laugh sound from the beast, "Haven't you learned yet? You can ignore this all you want but the end remains the same." He smiled and blood dripped off his teeth like molasses, "You can't save him. And you can't save yourself."

    *****

    I woke up extremely late, lagging into consciousness due to my lovely nightmare that's taken up consistent residence in my mind. The sun was high in the sky by the time I managed to crack my eyes open, effectively halting that grisly display of blood and gore.

    Or did it? By waking up, I was simply trading one nightmare for another; one imaginative blood soaked Dustin for the one from my reality.

    Though I couldn't see Dustin from where I lay on the couch, I could hear him. Low and steady breaths at regular intervals, deep and inherent. He was still asleep, as he should be. Out of everyone at this damn compound, Dustin deserved a restful sleep more than us all. Especially after what he went through yesterday.