The Dark City.
A Kingdom of Monsters.
A Kingdom of Sin.
'Don't let them take your light, my child.'
Isabelle had clung to her father's words, like kindling. Trying to keep the thin flame of hope burning in her bleak life.
Sold to the slavers' m...
"Go Isabelle. Run!" Deja-vu hit her with a familiar intensity, but her body was stuck firmly in place. Whether it was from sheer terror, or the rage that boiled in her veins. I'm done running.
"What are you doing? Go!" Adam's plea fell against the pulsing drum in her ears. Her heartbeat drowned out the chaos that erupted in front of her.
Lion jaws stretching wide, the King roared his challenge, making a swipe at Adam's throat. Distracted by the presence of Isabelle, Adam barely stepped back in time, claws grazing his arm. Fresh blood pooled from black fur and Isabelle's furry ran red.
"You really are nothing but an animal!" Isabelle screamed, grabbing the king's attention as stormy orbs fixated on her. There was no human left in the reflection of his gaze.
The king crouched low on all fours, muscled bunched.
Isabelle's heart dropped to her feet.
He lunged.
But Adam was quicker. Jaws wide, he jumped and tackled Henry from behind, clamping sharp teeth down on the back of his shoulder as they both slammed into the side of the wall. A candle fell from its brass sconce, as the wall shuddered from the impact, rolling across the stone floor at Isabella's feet.
"Run! You fool," Adam hissed through clammed jaws as he fought to hold down the ball of tawny fur that twisted and clawed beneath him. With a roar Henry managed to rip his way out of Adam's grasp leaving a mouth full of torn fur and flesh. Free now, he twisted around jamming sharp claws deep into Adam's chest, dragging them along his torso digging up large chunks of flesh.
Adam howled out his pain, and Isabelle wailed a banshee scream that echoed a chorus down the hall.
Other creatures poked their heads out of their rooms, curious eyes widening and doors slamming back shut when they laid eyes on the source of the sounds.
None were foolish enough to stand in the way of the king's furry. All but two- one of which was bleeding out on the floor. Adam clutched the torn flesh of his stomach with a paw. Barring his forearm in front of his face as Henry swiped with murderous intent.
"It's me you want!" Isabelle picked up the fallen candle now snuffed out by the cold stone and lobbed it at Henry's head.
It bounced off with a small clunk, but it had been enough to train those bloodthirsty eyes her way.
This time, she listened to Adam's advice. She ran. If she could just make it to the door. There was a lock on Henry's door- right? She was sure the witch had mentioned it. If she could just make it.
A crushing weight knocked her to the floor. She heard a crunch as her ribs sank deeper into the hard stone. An equally heavy weight, like a bolder on top of her, pushed her further into the floor.
Isabelle gasped in short, shallow breaths as wet familiar warmth slid down her back. It was her blood, dying the stone red.
The weight lifted for a moment and Isabelle had time to twist her neck to see the jaws of hell itself open wide, red, dripping with blood and saliva, without a sliver of sanity or humanity left behind that cool gaze. Only an unquenchable thirst that left her cold and numb.
She barely felt the mouth clamped around her slender shoulder and neck, piercing her throat with one of his long, sharp canines.
She barely heard Adam cry out her name.
Barley felt the air leave her lungs or the snap of her neck as her vision suddenly turned sideways, giving her a view of Adams' shocked ruby eyes and his blooded muzzle screaming words she could no longer hear.
Her body went numb with shock, stealing her pain as the soothing cold dragged her down with chilly hands.
She had not expected to survive this place, but she did not expect to leave it with so much regret. Rosie, Adam, John and Anna. Precious memories. Precious friends that she would not get to laugh with again.
She wished at least for them to survive. Her last sinking thoughts were of her little furred friend, before a brilliant white light consumed her vision. A silver haired goddess, as luminous as the moon emerging from the black space of nothingness, hand outstretched to carry her up. Carry her home.
And with a last shuddering sigh, Isabelle gave her final breath.
Isabelle has died. Pick a new path.
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