THE KING IS DEAD

07

VII. The Betrayal
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❝THE KING IS DEAD.❞
*ృ༅*. 𝕸𝖚𝖗𝖒𝖚𝖗𝖘 and gasps sprinkled themselves all about the banquet hall, varying in emotion and length. People screamed, people fainted.

The young King was dead, eyes and mouth and nose oozing red.

Dead, dead, dead.

It was taking everything in Sonic not to smile, not to manically laugh with victory. He had to cover his mouth with both hands and squeeze, and his subjects—his caring, noble subjects—gently pulled him away, whispered kind words to distract him, for they mistook his actions as him trying not to hurl.

"Look away, my Prince."

But all Sonic wanted to do was look. Relish in his victory. His knees gave out and he fell to the floor in his pure glee.

His brother—idiot brother—dead. Finally.

"Who did this?" someone raged. "I demand justice!"

At this point, the knights on guard duty came rushing in—Shadow being one of many. Shadow approached him, sword ready, prepared to protect his prince at all costs. Sonic met eyes with the pretty thing.

. . . A terrible thought met another thought just as terrible and gave birth to horror.

Sonic didn't feel guilty at all, and the words left his lips before he could breathe in again.

"I know exactly who," he whispered, and he was shaking. Shaking with wickedness, with the satisfaction of victory.

He was trying so hard not to smile that his entire body was beginning to ache.

"Who, my Prince?" demanded Sir Knuckles Gawain, an echidna of the most delicious shade of red. "Who!? I will destroy them!"

Sonic stood from his place on the floor, but his legs were jelly; they refused to cooperate, but that was fine. It helped greatly with his charade.

Shadow tried to help him up, but Sonic smacked him off and smacked him hard.

Emerald eyes were colder than ice when they met with scarlet.

"You did this."

Shadow—pretty, pretty Shadow Lancelot—blinked and paled. "Beg pardon, my Prince?"

"Then beg. Beg for mercy, Shadow, because you did this—and you will be punished."

Shadow took several steps backward as Knuckles readied his giant fists. Sonic went on, cooking up some tears to keep up his act.

"You always said I deserved the crown, that my brother wasn't the best king, but I never thought you'd kill him."

Knuckles grabbed Shadow by the neck as quick as lightning and slammed him down to the floor. Several knights withdrew their swords and pointed them all at the dark hedgehog.

"Please, my Prince, you misunderstand," he choked. "You have twisted my words. That was not the meaning behind them."

"Be silent, hedgehog, while I kill you!" roared Knuckles, raising his free hand. It became a shaking fist.

"How could you allow jealousy to corrupt you? I loved you."

Lies, lies, lies.

Not that Sonic gave a single damn. This was all a play, an act, and Sonic was such a beautiful actor.

The entire country had fallen for these crocodile tears.

"My brother wasn't the best king, I admit—we all admit—but he was trying. You didn't have to kill him." Sonic was (fake) wailing now, (fake) wailing like a child. Shaking, shaking, shaking—faking, faking, faking.

. . . And only Shadow could see that.

Because Sonic let him see it.

"My Prince!" called Knuckles. "Grant me permission to kill this traitor! My fist is ready to smash his skull!"

Sonic sniffled and wiped his eyes. Hiccuped a few times before he managed to choke out, "No, Knuckles."

Knuckles froze, meeting eyes. "No, my Prince?"

Sonic shook his head. "No." Wiped his nose on his sleeve. "He must suffer."

He stood now, his legs agreeing to hold him up, and with a deep breath, he looked down upon Shadow, the poor pretty boy pinned beneath the bag of rocks that was Knuckles.

"Shadow Lancelot, Knight of the Round Table, I strip you of your title. You will live out your days in the hole you have dug for yourself. Death's too good for you; you're gonna suffer."

He relished in Shadow's horror.

It was getting so hard—so damn hard—to keep in his smile.

So he knelt down to be level with Shadow, to look down, down, down upon him like the insect he was, and then—only then—did he allow a mere glimpse of that wicked smile to reveal itself.

Wickedness only Shadow saw.

It froze his heart, stole his breath.

Never breaking eye contact, Sonic went back into character and viciously snarled, "Get this lying piece of shit outta my sight."

Steel fingers gripped Shadow's arms—icy and sharp, strong and merciless—and yanked him up. Yanked him hard and made him dizzy. When he protested, Knuckles rendered him immobile with a swift chop to the back of his head and a sharp knee to his diaphragm. Thus, Shadow was dragged away, vision blurring, ears ringing, lungs skipping like a broken record, but he did not miss Sonic's next order.

No one did.

"He hides a human in his beach house. Bring her to me—immediately."

The clamor of rage that followed was incredibly distorted. Shadow screamed. Shrieked as the knights dragged him down, down, down into the abyss, to the bitter, black dungeons beneath the palace.

♚♛♜♝♞

❝NO!❞
*ృ༅*. 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜 knew, at some point, he had lost consciousness, for when he regained it, he woke with half of a scream like it had all been a terrible dream. No! echoed and echoed, his only friend.

But when darkness was the only thing to greet him, he wept. Screamed a little. A living nightmare he had gotten wrapped in. His love was now his hate; a traitor, a liar, a falsifier.

. . . And the worst part?

Even this far down, down, down below the palace, Shadow could hear his beloved Maria screaming.

And she screamed for a long time.