The Twenty Curse

prolouge

excerpt from the personal diary of princess Christine of Rye

Today, on the eve of the day that marks my twelfth year of life, Lerode has finally told me the story, in full, of how I was seperated from my family and ended up in my sisters place.

I have recorded his exact wording in here, so that future generations may come to know more about this dark time in our history, in which we are currently living.

~~~

Mary-Anne the nursemaid ran swiftly across the castle courtyard, a baby on each hip.

Speed was necassary, but not so much that she bounced the two sleeping princesses awake.

they didn't need to see what was going on around them.

All around the courtyard, battles raged between knights and grotesque  inhuman beasts.

"Cannibals" Mary-Anne murmured with a shudder.

such beasts were the stuff of legends, awful creatures people whispered ghost stories about and scared their children with. People didn't consider them a threat because no one ever saw one and lived to tell of it, only the abandoned towns they left behind.

Apparently, the Sooth-Sayers Nightmare, as they were known, was no more legend than you or I.

Cannibals were horribal, flesh eating beasts that lived in the deeper parts of the forest, occasionally leaving the fowl smelling tar pits they inhabited to terrorize a small village or two.

Usually, they left the larger settlements and groups of people alone, using their immense strength, speed and cunning to destroy a village of forty or so in a matter of a few minutes, taking live hostages out into the woods, where they would either eat them to keep their unholy power up, or bite them so, that, they would, in turn, become new cannibals.

Apparently, the cannibals had decided differently this time. It is a sad day in the land of Rye when ghost tales are no longer acurate.

But I digress.

Hundreds of awful, inhumanely strong creatures had come flooding in through the windows during the Queens birthday party, baring fangs and spitting saliva mixed with blood.

As Marry-Anne swept her gaze around the room once more, a wave of devistation hit her. This room had once been so beautiful, one of the most grand in the castle.

Now, it looked like a battle field.

Torn curtains littered the edges of the room like confetti, and a once magnificent tapestry lay in ruins, a slash through the face of Henry the Great, the rest covered in the contents of the overturned refreshments table.

The floor was coated in a mixture of blood and flowers, a disgusting, lumpy, sticky, impossible to walk through, macabre, and absolutely putrid smelling concoction that brought tears to her eyes and sickness to her stomach.

As Marry-Anne trod across the floor as quick as she could, she couldn't help but stare at one of the younger knights. He bravely swung and dogged and parried and swung again, despite the fact that it was obvious he was not going to win.

With a savage roar the cannibal tore his claws into the young knights neck, ripping out his throat.

Marry-Anne cried out in shock and horror, glad for the circle of castle gaurds surrounding her and the princesses, keeping them safe from the fray.

The cannibal looked up, and as he did,Marry-Anne-'s stomach dropped.

Why, you may ask?

Because the cannibal had no opponent, all other knights and cannibals were savagely locked in combat.