Far away Kingdom of Ikwen: Palace of the Queen.

"Your majesty, please, have mercy!" The anguished woman bawled.

Her ragged dress was frayed at the edges and scantily clad her wiry body, clinging tightly across the chest to loosen modestly at the waist where it gathered into a plumage of ruffles. Her hair had untangled from a crowning knot and was now disheveled in wild strays.

On her blistered knees, groveling, the woman rocked her fussing child that was cradled in her arms with frantic jerks to lull its squalling. Her upturned face glistened with overflowing tears while she spoke in an imploring manner.

"Please, I beg you!" her voice was strident in the emptiness of the grand room, discordant with the plaintive cries of her baby. "Let my husband go! Give me back my chosen!" A wretched wail ceased her throat raw from tireless entreaties.

From her vantage point on a monstrous and grotesque throne, Queen Eione watched in smouldering silence as the familiar woman wept with a heavy heart. A row of figures clothed in black hooded cloaks flanked her sides, as still as the gargoyles that perched on the palace walls, eerily quiet, their skin dead white. Bowed heads rested on chests bereft of life and their shadowed eyes were shut in deep slumber. Hands with claws lay dormant at their sides.

Beneath the stoic veneer of an ethereal face was a heart beating contempt and vengeance through her tensing body. Cries echoed without abating, but the woes of mother and child failed to thaw the malicious ice buried in the depths of the queen's depraved soul---she couldn't be swayed.

"Do you really want him back?" Queen Eione asked grimly.

At once, the woman's pleas ceased. She nodded vehemently, her eyes eager. "Yes, your majesty." As if sensing the mother's state of calm, the squalling child soon became near quiet and uttered agitated mewls. The queen observed the woman's face become tender as she looked down at the swaddled baby and crooned, nestling it closer to her body.

"What would you give in exchange for your husband?"

The woman's head shot up and, for a moment, looked thoughtful. "I'll give anything," no sooner than the words crossed her lips did she regret it, seeing the subtle wicked glint in the eyes of her oppressor.

After an apprehensive silence, Queen Eione leaned forward in her throne with a cynical smile. Her eyes reverted to the child, and the woman clutched it possessively under the coveted gaze. A feline grin burgeoned, "I want the child."

Gasping, the woman shot to her feet, hugging the child tighter even when it began to squirm in protest. "No!" She rebuffed, shaking her head and retreating, her eyes watering. "You can't. Please!"

"It's certain that you don't want him bad enough. I guess you lied about doing anything. Anyhow-" The woman's eyes widened horrifically when Queen Eione snapped her fingers and one of the figures reared up its head and stepped forward. A low, sinister rumble sounded as it flexed those clawed hands readily.

"Don't make this difficult," Queen Eione advised insouciantly, a hand poised with two controlling fingers, which was propped up on an arm of the throne. But the woman didn't heed the words, whirling around and running for the ornate doors as fast as she could, stumbling and catching herself. The bleak, desolate room echoed her whimpers, hasty footsteps, and ragged breathing.

It was a futile attempt and the queen shook her head in mild remonstration. It was always the alternative. "I thought you knew better, Njile," she said and inclined those portentous fingers forward. In an instant, the figure was in front of the woman who was a long way from freedom and she halted in her tracks.

The figure stood unnaturally still as if appraising, then began a menacing approach, and the woman backed away, matching its step forward with a step backward.

"Please!" Njile begged in a breathless, terrified whisper. The baby seemed to sense its mother's sudden fear and began to cry.

Queen Eione yawned without courtesy, fanning her gaping mouth. "What should we do then? I want the child," her bored visage lifted a trifle at a delicious thought. "How about we split the child in two? That way you get one and I do, too?" The hysteric fear in Njile's eyes made the queen cackle. "No?"

Abruptly, Njile made a dash, attempting to get past the creature, but ran into its open hand that shot out having preempted the action. As claws retracted, the hand wrapped around her throat in a vice like grip, choking her air.

It gripped tighter and Njile let go of the baby to grapple with the hand while gasping for breath, her face draining of colour. The crying child was rescued by the creature's other hand before falling to the floor, after which the woman was hurled across the room.

Sprawled on the floor, Njile held her neck as she breathed heavily. "Let go of my baby, you creature from the pits of hell!" She scrambled to her feet and charged at the figure, screaming. A few running steps away, she was repelled by a slam of force. On the floor, she stared at her wailing child in the arms of the statue like creature impotently.

Amused, Queen Eione watched her try and fail. "It's no use, darling," she offered and crooked a finger, and the figure started towards her with slow, stiff steps.

Njile gave up the fight, eyes awash with tears. Aggrieved, her face contorted angrily, and she glared at the throne. "I don't know what you did to him or how a girl who was nothing usurped the throne of five kingdoms. But what I do know is that this power and wealth you have and terrorise our people with doesn't change the fact. You will always be that girl nobody wanted, the ugliest thing in all of creation!"

The approaching figure halted, stopped by a severed link of command. Queen Eione cocked her head and the bitter cries of the baby ceased, it squalled noiselessly.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and parted the flimsy veil shrouding her impassive face. The woman recoiled in disgust at the sight. Affronted, the queen started forward, sashaying along in a blood red dress that molded her voluptuous body and draped the floor behind.

Climbing down the dias, her eyes unwavering from the cowering woman, the queen flexed the walls of her mind and emitted a dark, malevolent energy. Njile felt the weightlessness of her body as her feet rose from the floor.

Aloft, Njile dangled thrashing and groaning as she resisted the force slowly paralyzing her body, her frightened eyes on the queen below who was descending down the last step.

"You're not very smart. But then, you were always just another pretty face." Queen Eione tapped the side of her head with a long finger. "No brains." She held up a tight fist and Njile began to choke from no air.

"How dare you stand before me and speak contemptuously?!" she thundered, squeezing the life out of the woman. "You have always thought little of me, little of everyone. But to think that you'd be stupid enough to wag that troublesome tongue at me knowing it wouldn't go unpunished?"

"The old folks always warned that your tongue would be your undoing. And you, Njile, have disrespected me for the last time."

The room was plunged into gloomy darkness as clouds darkened and gathered outside, engulfing the brilliance of the sun, and portending rain. Gusts of wind swept through the land. Lightning lit across the sky and thunder crackled ominously, filling the people of Ikwen with dread in their homes.

Spreading her arms wide, Queen Eione welcomed the humming in the air with her eyes closed, evoking the powers deep inside her. And when those eyes popped open, they were aglow with the fire of the sun. "Your worthless husband is mine!" she proclaimed in a voice of a thousand men, "and so is your child."

Nijile's agonized screams carried across the kingdom as her organs ruptured and liquefied, blood spouted out from every opening in her body like a fountain, forces rending and crushing bones until at last, she exploded in a burst of blood and charred, sizzling flesh.

A natural calm descended, and the darkness was no more, the last of the thunderheads dissipating as Queen Eione came out of a trance like state.

She swayed on rubbery legs and moaned to her knees. Her skin tingled with a low hum, the maleficent energy roiling restlessly inside its vessel, finding her weakness vulnerable and grappling to unleash itself from the host. Queen Eione's body trembled while she wrestled with the animals inside her. Her teeth gnashed together and the black of her eyes became an unholy red. On all fours and head bowed, she let out an inhuman growl, her canines prying her mouth open as they elongated.

Something was thrust in her face: A goblet with a dark, red liquid. She snatched it, guzzled the content, the stray drops dripping down her chin, and waited. Sated, the beast capitulated, and she could hear its grumbles of defeat before lapsing into a deep slumber.

Queen Eione sighed with relief and adjusted her veil. Rising to her feet, she turned to the messenger. The body was long dead and she could see the thing for what it was: a void of darkness. "Whose blood is this?" she asked licking the remains off her lips and handing over the goblet.

The messenger bowed as he took what was proffered. "It's her husband's, my queen."

She smiled at that. She wiped at her chin and sucked on the bloodied fingers with gusto. "Delicious," She glanced at what remained of the woman. "What do you think?"

"It was a marvelous display." He fumbled.

Queen Eione nodded content with the reply. The figure hadn't moved, it was rock still and holding out the mute, fussing child like an offering.

"Did you deliver the message?" she asked casually.

The male fidgeted. "Yes, my queen."

"And?" she prompted.

When the male remained silent, Queen Eione narrowed her eyes. "Speak!" she commanded. But the male stared at her wordlessly, fear evident in his pale face.

She suddenly held him by the scruff of his neck, and the male sank to his knees before her with wide, frightened eyes, and it made her grin. Queen Eione then pressed her palm to his cold forehead and he froze, his body vibrating as volts of energy coursed through him. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled up to reveal unseeing whites as she wormed her way into his mind, her eyes glowing.

It was dark and old like an abandoned, decrepit house. After hurtling through irrelevant threads of memories, she soon came across one of a woman receiving an envelope. The setting was as foreign as her clothes; a comely boy young in age stood beside her, loitering. Her name was Jane, because the handsome man sitting with her, watching her cry said so.

The male began to protest, repelling further probing, but Queen Eione surged in. The veins in his head filled with fire that meandered down the dead paleness of his face. He screamed just as she saw Jane discard the invitation in the waste bin.

When she let go, the gaping male slumped to the floor, lifeless. The eyes were black sizzling holes in his head. The goblet rolled away from his lax hand.

Queen Eione gazed down at the corpse, "Can't even do this right." She turned to the silent observer at the other end and sauntered over to scoop up the baby. "Jane," she murmured with inflection, nestling the child to her bosom. The name was unlike the kind used by her people. She flexed her mind and in a flurry of black, the figure resumed its position amongst the others.

The cries of the baby disrupted the silence once more. "Shhhhh," she shushed and the baby fell quiet. It made a grab for her veil and tugged, big, innocent eyes staring in wonder.

Another pale skinned male appeared. He took in the gory scene and the corpse on the floor, and became wary. A ravenous growl emanating from somewhere in the palace caused an abrupt earthquake, and they held their grounds.

"She's hungry, your majesty." The male stuttered when the calm returned.

Queen Eione took in the angelic face of the child and smiled in mock pity. "Look at what your foolish mother did,hm." The creature below found babies sumptuous and was particularly fond of them.

She thrust the child at the waiting male. "And get someone to clean up this unworthy mess." She told him and he bowed before returning to the darkness inside. They had such light footsteps.

Alone, she fumed. "She looks down on royalty." This woman was His pick, not hers. It irked her.

She's untouchable.

But no one treated her like dirt. Her face suddenly lit up with a wicked grin. There was a dark, mischievous glint in her eyes. This Jane just needed motivation.

Author's Note:

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