Angelic Omen

Death of a Royal

Moonlight shone through the window into the bedroom. Fjonxor was in his own room, and Montelor was taking care of a few things before settling down for the night. Lynilis was sitting in her and Montelor's bedroom, softly humming to herself as she sketched with a piece of charcoal on some scrap paper she had. It was a picture of a bird, with majestic, arching wings in mid flight. A falcon - one of her favorite kinds of birds.

She knew Montelor wouldn't be much longer, and she liked to greet him as he entered the room. But her eyes were heavy, and her brain was drowsy with sleep. She yawned, and set the paper and charcoal on the nightstand beside her.

But just as Lynilis was getting ready to lay her head down, she felt a presence.

A dark presence. Like deep in a shadowed corner on a moonless, starless night. Darker than that, even.

Lynilis sat up and rubbed her eyes. She didn't see anything. Maybe she was just imagining things.

But then she heard a noise.

Like a long, ominous creak, as someone slowly opening a door that needed oil. It was accompanied by a low, menacing growl.

She turned her head to the window.

And was met with the face of a demon.

Lynilis tried to scream, scramble away, do anything to get away and call for help. But it was like cobwebs were piled in her throat, preventing any sound from coming out besides pitiful whimpers of fear. Her breathing quickened and deepened as she stared into the demon's eyes.

The pastel-red pupils narrowed like a cat's.

"Hello, Queen Lynilis," the demon said calmly, almost a hiss.

"G-get away from me!" Lynilis scrambled backwards and almost fell off the bed. Her hand slipped, and she lost her balance, only to be brought back up and forward by an invisible force.

The demon didn't show any passion, no glee and no sadness.. "Don't try to run. It'll only make this harder for you."

The demon paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, a trance. He shook his head and focused back on Lynilis.

"Actually... let's do this a bit differently."

The demon grabbed Lynilis by her long hair and began to drag her across the room. She thrashed and struggled in a vain attempt to break free.

The demon then lifted her back up. He was at least three feet taller than her, so her feet were dangling in the air by the time he lifted her up to eye level.

"Goodnight, your Majesty," the demon snarled. He grabbed her with his claws by the neck, digging the sharp nails into her skin before shoving her headfirst into the wall.

Pain erupted in her skull as Lynilis fell to the ground from the demon's grip. A crimson stain was in the wall from where she had made contact, dripping with fresh red blood.

Swarms of black butterflies danced in her vision, and soon overtook her.

But not before she saw the demon standing over her with a dispassionate scowl, holding a rope with a noose tied on the end.

—-

Lynilis looked around, her eyes wide with fear as the city burned around her

It wasn't real.

She was hallucinating.

Right?

It can't be real.

No.

"Montelor!" Lynilis called desperately for her husband. No one was around.

As she walked she tripped on something. She turned to look and felt bile rise in her throat. A burned, bloody corpse, the stranger's glazed eyes staring up at her blankly.

Her breathing was heavy. Tears filled her eyes, spilled down her cheeks. This wasn't happening. It wasn't real.

So why did it feel just the opposite?

She ran, darting around hot flames, confused and disoriented.

Finally, she saw a figure in the distance. Mistaking it as a friend, not a foe, she ran to them.

But stopped in her tracks a few feet away.

It was no demon.

But it might as well could have been.

His left eye was white, and the same cross shape as the demon's. A bloody claw mark scarred it. His pupils were wild, his grin inhumane.

Insane.

"Hello, your Majesty," the angel grinned, "I see my little servant has brought you to accompany me."

Lynilis backed up, her eyes wide with fear.

The angel swiftly darted forward, his claws grabbing her head, digging into her skin. His horrid, demented smile was inches from her face.

"Oh, is it too scary for the poor queen?" The angel mocked, "Don't worry. No one will hear your screams."

Sharp claws like blades dug at her mouth, tearing at the flesh around it, scarring the soft tissue inside. The almost copper taste of blood filled her mouth, followed almost immediately by pain.

The pain.

Like a thousand knifes stabbing, stabbing at her, stabbing her tongue, her mouth, her entire body as she crippled to the ground.

She tried to scream, but blood distorted the sound. It was like a garbled, hacking cough. Blood poured from the open wound in Lynilis's mouth, the severed muscle that she knew without feeling was no longer there.

Lynilis shakily looked up at the demented angel, who was grinning like a madman. Crimson covered his claws, his face, his already ash-covered wings. Some of it wasn't her's - most definitely from one of the bodies Lynilis had uncovered earlier.

She couldn't speak. Only watch in horror as the angel grabbed her by the neck and gently, almost too gently, placed the noose around her neck.

———

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, Kyrlas."

Montelor nodded farewell to his army captain and proceeded to his room. On his way he peeked into Fjonxor's room. The young prince was asleep, his breathing slow and sound. Montelor smiled, and quietly closed the door.

He continued up the stairs until he made it to his room. He reached for the door handle.

But was stopped. Stopped by a foreboding, dark feeling, like shadow pulling and tugging at the back of his mind, telling him to run, to run away and never look back.

I disturbed him greatly.

Montelor frowned, nervous now, and knocked on the door. "Lyn? Are you in there?"

No response.

He tried again, a bit louder this time.

Still nothing.

Montelor opened the door finally, worry penetrating his expression.

Worry that soon turned to pure and utter horror.

"...Lyn?!"

Lynilis was there. But she was hanging from the ceiling by a bloody noose around her neck. Her glazed, lifeless eyes stared in fear at something that wasn't there, her feathered wings drooping. Fresh blood poured from her mouth, dripping into a crimson puddle on the floor.

Montelor could only stare at his dead wife, eyes filled with shock, terror.

Until he noticed a piece of paper by the blood pool.

Slowly, he crept forward, feeling sick and almost wanting to vomit as he got nearer to the corpse. He grabbed the paper with shaking hands. It was partially stained with red blood from the puddle on the floor. On it was part of a picture of a falcon, like a shadow on a red sunset sky.

Words were scrawled on next to it. A message.

You were never rid of me.

I have returned.

————

1213 words