Necro-27: The Last of Mankind | COMPLETED |

Chapter 6: Monarch's Burden

The Queen's POV:

A life worth living is a life of truth. Every time I wake up, the same question bothers me over and over, what would happen if I die? This signifies my troubles as the Queen of the dome, to the same extent, it occupies most of my philosophies. A minute that passes by would always shift my interest to one place to another. I couldn't keep myself in one place, I couldn't keep still. Every dream, every nightmare, haunts me from my deepest slumber. I feel weak, I feel powerless.

Nobody is immortal in this world. People die eventually, and that hurts me the greatest. I'm their Queen but I have not ruled the entire dome at my utmost care. I don't deserve the crown anymore. I was always afraid, scared of what would happen the next passing days that might generate menacing presentiments.

The castle garden shimmered with refracted light from countless crystals. If I had known more of what I dreamt the other night, I would already deal with what I saw. I needed some air, I needed time to freshen up my mind.

Walking down the hallways I could see the faint moonlight, which was omitted by the magnetic fields of this dome. It has been thirty-nine years since I lived here, and from those years, I have learned that even though humanity's race are generally adrift, we can still find peace and unity behind these force fields that are continuously guarding us beyond it.

A glimpse of my dream flashed by.

I remembered.

I was running, running into a path, which never stopped. The dream is melancholically horrifying. Voices, I could hear voices, voices of people who I don't know about, voices of people I could not recognize. They were calling me, repeating 'my queen' several times, which I unclearly heard.

Suddenly a door revealed itself from the opaque path that I was still running from, over and over again. I stopped in front of it as I heard people crying. Those cries went on, growing louder and louder for each second. I hesitantly grabbed the knob of the door and opened it slowly. A bright light glistened my eyes. I couldn't look clearly inside the room I entered, but when the light was slowly fading, I was astounded by what I saw.

My eldest son, Prince Hansel, hanging from somewhat rope while his blood dripped from his hands. I stood there, petrified. I did not know what I was supposed to do, if I'll just stand there, or I must help him. I tried to move, but something was blocking me from doing it. I was utterly penetrated at my stance. I wanted to do something but I can't.

His head twitched in an upward motion. I couldn't take off my eyes away from his dead body. Once his face lit up, I saw his eyes, covered in blood, his face distorted in a disturbing way. I wanted to look back, it was terrifying, he was terrifying. His dried up lips moved open, he grinned at me mischievously.