Kingdom Of DethielAfter the war had come to a blood-soaked denouement, I swore to myself that I would get requital for everything I had lost due to my father; the king's ever-growing desire to spread the kingdom's power to every corner of the map. It had started with my eight-year-old sister when something evil came knocking on their bedroom window on my twelfth birthday, my father's plan was for it to take me, but the demon had other plans and took Emily instead. I had watched it's large tar like arms reach for her while she trembled in fear in her bed, and it lifted her high into the middle of our room and with one quick twist had her body twisted in ways I couldn't even describe.
By the time my father had gotten into the room, he was enraged to see the beast had taken the wrong daughter. In that moment, he had blamed me for my sister's death and showed more of his disliking of me in a more public manner. My mother had taken pity on me, did her best to reassure me that he would come around to accept me as his heir. But father must have not liked that because soon, the queen had disappeared, and father didn't really seem too distraught by it. His sympathy was so pocket-sized that he had himself married to a much younger woman not even days after mother's disappearance.
Overtime of hating my father, I grew to a point of only wanting to escape him. He showed no concern for what I did, he showed no sign of ever giving me the throne; so, I left. I had chosen by the age of twenty-one to lead a normal life with the commoners that had made the choice to loathe me due to my father spreading lies that I was unstable and had murdered my own sister in cold blood. But it didn't change anything for me, I was fine being alone; until I wasn't.
I tried to keep my heart locked into a steel cage but when I met Hunter, that cold shoulder was no match to his warm heart and kind soul as I fell so madly in love with him; we got engaged. Everything seemed great but as everything always did for me, it all came crashing down. It started off with an invite to my father and new stepmother's baby shower, he was so happy to finally get the son he always wanted. But overtime, something happened, and his wife lost the baby.
It caused him to lose his mind, he began to get violent with punishing his own people for petty things due to his anger. I did my best to turn a blind eye, not wanting to be a part of something that could cause me to lose everything, to lose Hunter. In the end, it didn't matter since my father decided that if he couldn't be happy, neither could I. For reasons of marrying a witch, Hunter was sentenced to death and hung on the morning before our wedding. I was only informed after nightfall because I was waiting to be married to him underneath the willow tree we first met under.
When the news came to me, the light inside my soul had shattered into a million pieces as if the world's largest mirror had just broken. I had desired year of bad luck on my father, on his new wife and all of the cruel subjects of his kingdom. I decided to take my time, I wanted to wait for him to think he had won as I went into hiding. He waged his war on the world and now that it was over, I have made my deal with the devil. I have made father's words true, and I have become the dark witch he had so desired me to be. I would show him what a true demon looked like, I vowed to myself.
It only took fifteen years. Fifteen years of fence-sitting, shuffling my plan into the order of making him feel like he was on top; a real king. But now as I stand in front of his bed as he sleeps, I wonder if he ever thought about this would be his end? It didn't matter, but as his chest rises and falls; my thoughts kept wondering if he was having a good dream.
"It's time for you to wake up, father," I spoke in a clear but daunting voice, my fingers brushing over his forehead to clear away some of his hair from his eyes. With a sudden jolt, he tries to sit up but only to realize that he can't. An unknown force to him was pinning his hands and feet down, but it slowly dawned in his expression that he knew it was me. I was his enemy that he underestimated. I smiled sickly sweet at him and asked, "did you miss me?"
"What are you doing here, witch?" he growled at me. I laughed at the irony, but it none of this was as gratifying as I was hoping it would be. In fact, it was plain boring.
"You don't get to as me that, in fact you don't get to ask me anything at all. Your last words will get to haunt you for the rest of eternity that you will spend in hell for what you did to Emily and my mother. You will feel the wrath of a witch that you so feared me to be, and you will get to watch as I rip your kingdom down piece by piece," I sneered at him, now holding his face in my hand as I examined his fearful expression, a fear for only his own life. How pathetic, I thought to myself as I twitch my palm at him which caused his arms to snap one at a time; left than right. I did the same with my other palm as it snapped his legs the same way. The sounds of his bones crunching were satisfying, his screams were better as I finally twitched my chin to the left to snap his neck.
As his unmoving body sat there, my wrath for vengeance grew stronger; and I walked out into the hallway towards my widow stepmother's chambers where she was banished to when she lost father's baby.
But there was no mercy in me, just a need to take out the trash.
YOU ARE READING
Wrath of a Witch
ParanormalA short story about one woman who has been through hell and she is going to make the one man responsible for all her misery pay with his life: her father, the King.