The Kingdom's Destruction Page 4

  Elinor screamed, taking Cristina by surprise. The knight leaped forward. Cristina raised her hands in defense but failed to stop Elinor from tackling her to the ground.

  As they fell, Cristina’s right hand tugged up. Elinor’s sword stabbed Elinor through the heart. Movement ceased. No more blinking ever again.

  Elinor lay dead on top of Cristina.

  The nurse screamed and shoved Elinor off. Tears welled in her eyes and her sobs echoed inside the lookout tower. After deciding to help her find her family, Elinor was rewarded with death. Cristina wished she had undertaken the quest by herself, not allowed Elinor to go too.

  Now Cristina had no choice.

  She crawled over to Elinor and closed her eyes. “I hope you find happiness in the next life.”

  For many minutes, in silence, Cristina sat next to Elinor’s body, reminiscing about their time together. The two grew up as best friends, forming a strong bond right away. The thought of spending the rest of her life without Elinor sent a chill down Cristina’s spine. Now two people remained in her life, and they resided on the other side of the gate.

  Karl and Lea. I have to go on, for them, for Elinor, for Bear.

  After getting up, Cristina wrapped her hand around the hilt of Elinor’s sword and pulled, but the sound of the blade ripping out of her body was too much for Cristina. The weapon had killed her friend, so she let go.

  I hope you didn’t die for nothing.

  Despite multiple weapons scattered across the floor, Cristina decided against picking one up. The vision of Elinor’s sword impaling her body surfaced every time Cristina glanced at another blade. If she carried a constant reminder of how her best friend died, would she go mad? Not wanting to risk the chance, she continued unarmed.

  Cristina stepped over Bear and made her way downstairs. Sue’s body blocked the exit. For Cristina to press on, she needed to pull the dead body out of the way. When she did, she left the tower that would certainly haunt her dreams if she survived this plague sent by the gods.

  All was quiet. Cristina realized she had been awake for over a day when the sun peeked over the horizon. Despite the silence, she hesitated before opening the gate. What would she face on the other side? Did any infected still live? Was anyone else immune?

  When Cristina opened the iron door, no diseased attacked. In fact, she saw no one alive past the knight district. Maybe the plague had passed, though not before doing its damage.

  Bodies littered the ground like leaves on a mid-autumn day. Cristina reached into her bag and pulled out a small vial of clova. After opening the glass container, she dabbed a few drops under her nostrils. The scent of licorice overtook the stench the plague had left behind.

  Finally.

  After an hour of traveling, being the only person alive, Cristina arrived at her house. The last individual she had seen breathing was Elinor. Tears filled Cristina’s eyes at the thought of Karl’s and Lea’s chances of not succumbing to the disease.

  Cristina turned the knob, but the door did not budge. A shred of hope. If the door could not be opened, then someone triggered the lock from the inside. Perhaps Karl and Lea were still alive.

  Five feet away from the door hung a glass window into the dining room. Cristina tossed a loose stone from her front steps, shattering the windowpane upon impact. Using her bag to protect herself from broken shards in the frame, Cristina climbed through the opening into the house.

  Glancing over at the door, someone had engaged the security lock, but who? Cristina’s initial reaction was to call out Karl’s name, but the possibility of someone or something else being in the house curbed her tongue. Instead, she searched the area for clues. Although she had enjoyed a family breakfast the morning before, it felt like years had passed since she last stepped foot in her house.

  One sign of hope presented itself as Cristina moved deeper into the place. Nothing in the house had changed since before she left, down to the half-eaten plate of pancakes on the dining table. No signs of struggle and no indication a diseased had entered the house created tingles in her arms.

  Despite the hope, Cristina heard nothing from anywhere within the home. Her heart pounded as she lifted her lead-like feet up each step, often pausing in case someone or something popped out. But no surprises came. In fact, nothing happened at all. The house seemed empty. If someone had locked the door from the inside, how could they have left the house?

  Cristina choked on air as she got her answer when she opened Lea’s bedroom door. The ten-year-old girl lay on her bed, immobile.

  “Lea!”

  Cristina rushed over to check on her daughter with two fingers on the side of the girl’s neck. A slow, slight thumping against Cristina’s skin meant Lea was alive.

  The licorice scent faded from Cristina’s nostrils, and proonut took over. Karl. A smart idea, if he had given the poison to Lea to fake her death when the plague hit, hoping none of the diseased would find her here. It had worked.

  Cristina turned Lea’s body over and with a closed fist struck the girl’s sternum as hard as possible. Lea gasped, and her eyes opened. The normal rhythm of her chest rising and falling made Cristina’s heart swell. Her daughter lived.

  “Lea!” Cristina wrapped both arms around her child, wishing to never let go. “You’re okay.”

  “What happened?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Where’s your father?”

  Lea shrugged her shoulders. “He brought me here, gave me something to drink. I fell asleep right away.”

  Cristina’s throat clenched, fearing the worst for Karl, but a deep breath calmed her nerves for Lea. “Stay here, I’ll check.”

  Cristina closed the door, leaving Lea in her room, and headed for the master bedroom. Perhaps Karl took some of the chemical himself. Turning the knob failed to open the door, which meant he had locked himself inside.

  Her hands trembled as she reached into her bag and pulled out the key to her room. The ridged metal stick fidgeted, struggling to slip into the lock. When it finally slipped in, she twisted her wrist to unlock the door.

  Inside, Karl lay face down, similar to Lea, but with one difference: the kitchen knife resting on the bed next to him. After picking up the blade, Cristina turned his body over with care. His chest rose and fell. He lived. However, seeing Karl’s face made Cristina grip the weapon tighter.

  Sweat covered Karl’s skin.

  6

  Cristina’s husband continued to breathe, but no life remained in his body. The knife in her hand drew her gaze, but she knew she would never be able to use it, especially against Karl.

  Should she wake him up or leave him in this state? A quick scan of the room revealed an answer with the emergency survival kit in the corner. Opening the wooden crate unveiled water, preserved food, candles and other components needed in case of a catastrophe. Cristina chuckled. A real disaster had occurred, yet most of the items in the box would not help in this situation.

  Cristina pulled out the one helpful item from the kit: a thick rope. After untying it, she wrapped a loop around one of Karl’s wrists and slid the cord under the bed. The opposite end bound his other wrist, keeping him confined to the bed. With her right hand on the knife, Cristina pounded against his chest with her other hand.

  A shriek screamed out of Karl, much like the others who had succumbed to the disease. The whites of his eyes the color of bile, making Cristina want to vomit. After yanking at the rope a few times without success, his body relaxed.

  “Karl?” Cristina got no response. “Is any part of you in there?” Still nothing from him. “I wish I could relieve you of this disease that took over your mind, I really do, but I’m weak. I can’t do it. So instead, I’ve tied you up. What I want to tell you, in case you can still hear me, is that whatever you did with Lea worked. She’s fine. The rest of the kingdom isn’t, so we have to leave, Lea and I.”

  Tears blurred Cristina’s vision. “I wish you could come with us, but you can’t. I hope the disease takes you quickl
y, without pain.”

  Karl had not thrashed since he had calmed down, long enough to make Cristina pause. Did he hear what she said? The quiet lulled Cristina into leaning forward.

  Right into Karl’s range.

  Cristina’s husband grabbed her by the throat and squeezed. The lack of air circulation blurred her vision. Clawing at Karl’s hand brought no success. Within a few moments, he would succeed in cutting off enough oxygen for Cristina to pass out, leaving her ten-year-old child alone in her room.

  Lea.

  Cristina closed her eyes, raised her right hand, and swung it down with all her strength. Then she picked her hand up and struck down again. And again. And again, continuing to think of nothing else but her daughter.

  Karl wanted this, asked for it. In fact, he had left the knife next to him on the bed. Had he wanted to use it on himself? Or did he leave the blade for her?

  Cristina repeated the stabbing while Karl maintained his hold around her neck. The whole time, Cristina kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the man she loved, not wishing to witness what she was doing, needed to do, for the protection of Lea, her daughter, the only thing left of importance.

  Karl finally released his grip.

  Cristina opened her eyes and screamed at the sight. White bed sheets were stained with red blood. Crimson had splattered everywhere: the walls, the floors, Cristina’s hands, and her clothes.

  Another scream from Cristina, this one cut short by a knock on the door.

  “Mommy? Daddy?”

  Lea.

  Cristina dropped the knife and stripped the blood-soaked clothing off her body. “Just a minute, I’m changing my clothes.” Cristina snatched a new outfit from the wardrobe, a comfortable linen for the long journey ahead, and got dressed.

  The sight of Karl’s lifeless body gave Cristina the urge to scream, but she kept her mouth shut. Another squeal could cause Lea to barge in. What happened in this room could never make its way to her. Not because she would not understand why. At ten, she possessed insight and wisdom fit for many young adults. Still, Cristina did not want to burden her daughter with the image of her father’s dead body. One person suffering from nightmares for the rest of her life was more than enough.

  Cristina grabbed a fresh blanket to drape over Karl’s body, but the sound of a door creaking made her freeze. Lea stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with fear, filled with tears. Working on instinct, Cristina covered Karl’s body and turned to face her daughter.

  “Lea, I’m so sorry you saw that. I need you to understand, your father became a—”

  “A monster.” Lea sniffled. “Daddy never hid his words like you do. He told me people were getting sick and turning into monsters. He made me promise to stay in my room until you came to get me because he knew he would turn into one himself.”

  Did Karl really believe Cristina would be the one person in the kingdom immune to the disease? He did not lie, as Lea had reminded Cristina. But why? Why would Cristina not be affected by the plague?

  Then she remembered.

  Cristina rushed over to the fireplace, removed the logs, and opened a loose floorboard. From inside, she picked up and hoisted a small child’s backpack over one shoulder.

  Thank you, Karl, and goodbye until I see you again.

  Cristina grabbed Lea’s hand and led her outside the house, heading for the north exit, unsure of where to go. One thing Cristina knew for certain: the kingdom of Ostarin no longer existed, and she did not want to risk staying and allowing the plague to infect Lea. For the first time, hope crept into Cristina’s mind about the future despite everything that had happened.

  As they got closer to the front gate, Cristina’s soul wrenched as if she witnessed everyone close to her die at the same time. All hope of surviving left her body, without an explanation as to why.

  The emotion did not feel natural, as if some dark magic, some devilish being, had casted gloom over Cristina’s heart. Something was coming. For the first time since the plague had blanketed the whole kingdom, without understanding how, Cristina realized she would not survive despite possessing an apparent immunity to the disease.

  Cristina pulled Lea down an alley, picked a random house, and opened a door on the ground leading to a cellar. One person needed to live. Please let it be Lea. Cristina led her daughter through the doorway.

  “I need you to do me a favor.” Cristina handed Lea the backpack. “I need you to stay here, and do not open this door for anyone. No one. Do you understand me?”

  Lea nodded but frowned. “Daddy told me the same thing. You aren’t coming back, are you?”

  “Yes, I am. There’s a monster around here, and I need to make sure it doesn’t get to you.”

  “I can help you—”

  “No. Please. I’m not going to fight the monster, I’m just going to get it away from you. When I feel safe that I’ve lost it, I’ll come back for you.”

  Cristina hugged Lea in a tight embrace, knowing it would be the last time. After the child entered the cellar, Cristina closed the door and placed a few stones on top to keep Lea secured.

  The sense of gloom intensified, and Cristina followed the emotion to its origin. Standing in front of the north gate stood a man. No, better yet, a monster. Eight feet tall with dark gray skin; Cristina knew at once the thing had created the plague, causing the destruction of Ostarin, and she could name the creature with one word.

  Demon.

  7

  Cristina stood within ten feet of a giant, grotesque demon, positioned between her and the front gate. If she doubted she could survive a fight with someone diseased yet still human, she knew for certain this devil would bring her certain death.

  However, Cristina needed to do something. Anything to give her daughter a chance to live. For her, and for what she held in her backpack. Cristina had to develop a plan to keep her child safe.

  “I have to admit,” the demon said, “I am impressed with you.”

  It spoke in a deep tone, more of a grumble, but clear. Cristina was curious as to why a demon would be impressed with her, but she kept quiet and allowed the thing to continue.

  “Master had tasked me, the revenant, to destroy the kingdom of Ostarin. I did so with a plague no citizen would escape. Somehow, you did.”

  More questions flooded Cristina’s head. Who did this demon serve? Why did they want Ostarin destroyed? Why did the revenant believe Cristina did not fall ill to the disease? Instead of asking, she kept quiet, her thoughts dwelling on one concept, one goal in mind: to keep Lea safe.

  “You must be proud to know everyone else in the kingdom is dead. You are the only citizen of Ostarin remaining. At least for now.”

  The revenant singled Cristina out as the lone survivor, failing to mention Lea. Cristina clung to the slight hope her daughter would survive when all this ended.

  “Now you die.”

  A thick green cloud descended to engulf the area. The revenant’s concoction suffocated Cristina, blinded her, while the scent of bile filled her nostrils.

  Despite the attack bringing Cristina to her knees, she knew right away she would survive, at least for now. After a few seconds, a gust pushed the fog south, leaving Cristina gasping for air, fighting to keep herself from vomiting.

  “Somehow you are immune to my plagues,” the revenant said. “Instead of your skin bubbling with acid, you stand unharmed.”

  Maybe hope existed for Cristina as well.

  “Perhaps a more physical approach is necessary here.” The revenant cracked its knuckles. “Perhaps I will drain you and take your power for myself.”

  The revenant marched toward Cristina, and she fled the opposite way. The demon did not run, yet Cristina never shook herself from its line of sight. As long as it remained in view, she would never be able to rescue Lea and lead her out of the kingdom to safety.

  Perhaps Cristina would need to fight the demon. But how? Would Cristina possess the courage to drive a sword into the demon’s heart, if it even had one?
The image of Lea hiding in the cellar made Cristina realize she needed to try, so she kept running, this time with a destination in mind: the lookout tower.

  After arriving at the gate and placing her hand on the handle, Cristina glanced back before pulling, hoping to not see the demon behind her. No such luck. The revenant continued his slow pace toward her, giving her more conviction she would not escape by running.

  Within the knight district, Cristina charged inside the lookout tower and up the stairs. Glad she did not have to rip Elinor’s sword from her body, Cristina picked up another blade belonging to one of the other knights and glanced toward the front door.

  That’s how I can save Lea.

  Cristina dragged the other bodies toward Elinor, piling them on top of each other, creating a small barrier to hide behind. Instead of using the makeshift cover, Cristina rushed over to the other side of the room. She waited. After a few minutes, the door downstairs slammed open.

  The sense of gloom returned, intensifying with every step the revenant took. At one point, the emotion grew strong enough that Cristina wanted to give up, walk in front of the demon and allow it to kill her. That way, the depression would end. A glance at the dead soldiers, one in particular, helped Cristina overcome the somberness. Elinor had given her life for Cristina to save Lea. The nurse closed her eyes and regained her resolve to do what needed to be done.

  The pile of bodies worked the way Cristina had intended, and the demon approached the fallen knights, unaware of her true position. The second the revenant faced away from Cristina, she bolted. Unarmed. Charging down the stairs, she headed for the open door, holding her left hand out, prepared to flip the lever next to the exit.

  Then the door slammed shut.

  A massive gray hand seized Cristina’s neck and pulled her away before she could touch the switch. The plan to lock the demon inside the lookout tower had failed. But Cristina still had a chance. A chance to keep Lea safe.

  “Like I said.” The revenant smiled, revealing a mouth full of fang-like teeth. “A more, personal touch is necessary in this instance.”