“I did feel a modicum of pity for the man. Perhaps his line was cursed in a different way. I suffered because of them, died because of them, lost people I loved because of them. There is no mercy in my heart for people who linger in these cages.” The Red Queen folds her hands together in front of her. An almost charitable gesture. “I wanted to move on – but I couldn’t, I had so much rage and you can see how much of it there is.”
Her rage is visceral and sickening, intestines and organic matter is everywhere, limbs – legs and arms twist between the bars of the cells. Bodies torn asunder with bone, muscle and sinew covering everything. It’s hard to believe that these were once living and breathing people.
There are a few survivors choking and spluttering on the blood and bile.
“This has never been the answer, your majesty. We both know it.” It is relief that fills the hearts of John and Vukosava, Amber and Charles are here, their ace in the hole.
“I see you’ve made your choice to betray me, Charles, and here’s the young dy who lost someone she cherished.”
“You’re right, I did lose someone I cherished, but I cannot condemn people to that same fate. Hurting people will not mend these old wounds.” Amber looks up at the Red Queen, unflinchingly, with passion bzing in her eyes. “It won’t bring them back.”
“I know that it won’t.” The Red Queen looks around the prison. With a single downward cast with her wings, she soars upwards over what remains of the prisoners. “I will be delivering an ignoble end to the courts of w and order, and along with it - society as a whole. No longer will the restrictive and fraudulent ideals of the corrupt be inflicted on the weak, and those that stand on top of the system will be punished.”
“Alise wouldn’t want this – you know this to be true.” Amber says gently.
“You would know?” The anger emanating from the Red Queen is enough to make all of them wince.
Vukosava lets out a quick bark, the support and therapy dogs start rushing towards their location getting the attention of the Red Queen. Her eyes are bzing with fury and hate, she sends a bst of wind with her wings towards the dogs – sending them careening violently into the stone walls, dashing their bodies across it. The group immediately runs for cover, as Vukosava prepares for her final moments of life. This isn’t rational, standing here facing off an opponent like this. What choice do any of them have?
-
The knight is sent backwards, his greaves leaving deep furrows in the concrete. His essence is starting to trickle and blossom out of the gaps and cracks in his metallic shell. It’s a container, he needs that thing to even have a body otherwise he’s just a corrupting cloud that turns everything to ash. Even if he’s got a body, it wouldn’t st long not with direct contact with silver. That’s the thing about the USPO, there’s an extensive list of entities, demons, extraterrestrial, fae, and otherwise. All of them have a weakness, a means to send the fuckers back to their worlds. Carlos can see that the conviction still remains, the bastard is stubborn.
“I have to admit; you fuckers are tough. I’m actually enjoying myself for once.” Sir Victor Alberius looks at them with his white glowing disc for eyes. “You got any more tricks up your sleeve?”
“Yeah, with the state your armour is in – you’ll have to retreat.” Carlos is adjusting the straps on his silver garments. “Unless you want to spend a piece of eternity putting yourself back together.”
Alexi nds, rolling through so the momentum doesn’t stop at his ankles.
“You think I’m worried about that?” Sir Victor Alberius scoffs. “If you break my armour, what makes you think that I wouldn’t plunge this prison into hell?”
“The matter of your Queen, she might not have a problem with it – but losing you would be detrimental to her cause.” Alexi points out logically. “Would anyone else join her?”
“You think the court has a ck of volunteers, cur?”
“No, but your advantage is gone.” Carlos pnts himself firmly. “Your Queen cannot activate her combustion on us. We’re well equipped to deal with your sort – we’re not some punk-ass kids.”
“Think about it, sir, do you really think we’re the only ones out here? Fighting you?” Alexi starts to circle around to stand on Carlos’ right. “Just like those troublesome youtubers, we knew that you would pick a prison to go for.”
“You think yourselves wise, cunt, you’re not.”
“We can exchange all the insults you want – but the facts remain the same. Our allies, our comrades know we’re here.” Alexi points his weapon at the knight. “They’ll be here soon, even your army is only going to st so long.”
The knight of corruption stands quietly for a moment, contempting their words with wanton rage. He doesn’t speak, he rushes forwards, a bolt of darkness that crashes into them with tremendous force. His giant bde goes left and right, sending Carlos hurtling back into a car – the old man might be tough, but it still takes the wind out of his sails. Damn it – he shouldn’t be getting thrown around like this, even if the bastard can move faster than the speed of sound.
Alexi is spry, lighter on his feet as he leans back dodging a thrust. He flicks his bde up, trying to jam it into the knight’s eye. A white circur disk that is starting to bze red. The point bites into Sir Victor’s helm, leaving a long-jagged line. It’s very straightforward, if the armour goes, he could destroy everything for a good while. Tens of miles, easily engulfing the prison and everyone inside of it – turning the box into a cremation device. His essence scatters to the wind, and it takes years, even decades to fully reform.
But that’s not the only thing they can press against the knight, despite his low opinion on the corrupt, there is another component that enters into it. If the destruction of the vile means that others suffer – what’s the point of doing it?
“Even if your dream is to end corruption, is the sughter of innocence worthwhile?” Carlos solemnly asks. “I lost so many, so long ago and time can only heal so much. It’s their dreams that carry me onwards, this fight is over and once the portal is properly sealed, you’ll be cut off.”
“You may eventually return home, but it will take months, years even. It might be a battle of attrition but it’s one that we’ll win.”
“So, your content to kill your fellow man?”
“Our reality is saved. That’s enough.”
“Do you really think that this is the end of it? The horrors that have been unleashed - you will be struggling for words.” Sir Victor Alberius pauses momentarily, a hint of sadness lingering in his voice. “If you win that should be the end of it - but this isn’t a fair war. None of them are.”
“Fairness doesn’t enter into it, go home, Sir Victor. Go home.” Carlos says sadly.
“You’re a man to pity, soul keeper.” Sir Victor Alberius lowers his weapon. “The two of you will have your hands full, and those brats too. I will go for now - next time I will win.”
Sir Victor Alberius, the Knight of Corruption, is leaving the battlefield. The monsters were melting away as well; it won’t be long before reinforcements arrive. The Red Queen is going to make her choice soon enough.
-
“It seems that the decision has been made for me.” The Red Queen turns her gaze towards the fight between Sir Victor and Carlos, and his active companion and therapist Alexi. Surely, she must realise how fragile her position is. Vukosava can feel a sense of relief falling over her – this must be it, logically there’s no pusible reason to continue remaining on the offensive. “To think that there would be so many willing to defend this broken system.”
“I ask you humbly, my Queen, will you return home in peace?” Amber and Charles ask in unison.
“I will finish what I started here.”
Shit. She’s being driven by emotions, not logic. This is very bad. Vukosava yells to the others. “Get the rest of the prisoners out of here!”
John, Nathen, Harley, James and Amber rush forwards. The Red Queen holds her hand over the blood and gore that floods the entire prison, sparks start to fly over it and soon the sickly stench is overwhelming them, in a moment the prison starts to warp and change, trees and flora start to blossom from the bars of the cells, the bodies of the dead fill with flowers and moss. Their thoughts, their emotions, their heartache, she’s using their inner turmoil as fuel to further power up her hidden abilities. She didn’t reveal her whole hand at once – a frustratingly logical move.
The fire that burnt through the blood of the dead prisoners is sent towards them, Harley grumbles loudly. “I guess we got to use it now!”
James obliges, ripping the safety of their fire extinguisher. A burst of water crashes against the fire, filling the prison with steam. Harley doesn’t release the pressure on the trigger, continuing to spray down anything that even remotely gets near her. “What are you idiots waiting for?”
With that the rest of the group starts to move, Vukosava looks down on the ground, grabbing a baton. If she’s going to keep everyone safe, she’s got no other option, with a deep breath she rushes forwards. She is going to run up and try and hold back Catherine Mallory, the Red Queen. In the end, she’s a victim just like they are – but that’s where the comparisons end.
Vukosava decides to give in to her instincts - once again. Her logical thought process slips away.
As the steam clears, she lunges at the Red Queen, her baton raised high. “So, now you use these instincts against me?”
A powerful gust of wind sends her hurtling back; the speed of a bullet is nothing close to this.
She’s the projectile. Vukosava straightens in midair – applying the same principles to skydiving or bungee jumping. She can either have her brain spttering over the walls, and her body grinding down to bones and dust, or she can shave off a couple yers of skin from her feet. The biomechanics of falling safety – who could possibly know that something like this could save her? Vukosava takes a deep breath, before opening her eyes, everything disappearing into an almost incomprehensible vortex. The floor, ceiling and walls blend together seamlessly.
It’s on the next midair rotation that Vukosava acts, she manages to just barely pce the tips of her shoes on the ground. Without even thinking she drives the baton into the ground, shaving off the aluminum yer by yer until all that’s left is the handle. Her shoes are in the same shape, the soles completely gone by the friction.
“It seems that you too have his gift.” The Red Queen remarks lightly.
“You have to stop.” All Vukosava can manage to bluster.
“You are merely deying the inevitable. If you are concerned about your friends, surely continuing to defy me is your worst option.”
“Yeah, you’re right. But if I stand aside and allow you to continue – there’s a lot of people who have died because of my actions.” Vukosava can see the prisoners going deeper into the prison – putting distance between them and the Red Queen.
“What would this be, young wolf? Redemption? Forgiveness?” The Red Queen asks.
“No, a vow, I will stop you – whether it’s words or actions, I refuse to back down.”
“You don’t even understand your own abilities; how can you hope to stop me?”
“That’s the thing, if your loyal knight is out of the picture, all I have to do is dey you as much as possible. If Carlos and the rest of his guys close in – you’re not going to have an easy time.”
The Red Queen merely raises her hand. “You are right. But your success here today will not mean much in the end. I will succeed in my goal. I will put an end to what I see as tyranny.”
Carlos and Alexi are closing in; the prisoners are out of reach. With a heavy sigh, the Red Queen takes flight.
In an instant she is gone. All that remains is a bloody box.
At this point, the group cries and ughs, sorrow and joy mixing together. It’s human to the bone.
