Another Clichè Zombie Story ... or is it? :3

Chapter Nigon ... I feel smart I found this one in an old dictionary!

Dedicated to LarryStylinsonForevr because I know she'll love this chapter, and ... lucky guess who your character is, Danni ;) I finally have you in here haha! XD

But if you think for one second I'll refer to you as 'Your Highness' you got another thing coming! Phil bows to no one!

 

Unknown POV

I pace back and forth, contemplating what I’ve just been told. My dress swirls around my ankles. I wrap my arms around my flat stomach, afraid of what could happen should the rebellion reach here.

Wait.

I don’t need to be afraid! I could easily destroy them all! However, the human tells me I should be worried. There is a Halfling amongst them. And the Sake of Life and Death. They will be my downfall. Well, screw them! Let them try to take me! I am the Sake of Fate, I shall make it Fate their vessels are destroyed in a storm!

“Your Highness?” A timid voice asks from the shadows.

I whirl around to glare at the pathetic excuse of a builder as he limps over to me.

“What?” I snap.

“The warriors have brought in a prisoner. She’s the sister of one of the rebels that is on the other land across the sea,” he says.

I walk down to the end of the large throne room, once belonging to my brother. I remember when these halls were full of songs, laughter, dancing and happy night walkers of all clans. Shaking my head, I remember those same night walkers screaming in agony, dying at the end of my blade, begging for mercy. My brother’s cry of pain and rage as I stab him through the gut. The satisfying feeling of knowing I’ve changed the Fate of all night walkers. That I’ve re-written history.

Down through some halls, into a small chamber, and into the dungeons, I follow some stairs that lead to a room once used as an office I now use as a torture room. Tied naked to the wall is a night walker glaring at the ground. Her black hair is knotty, the long plait tattered. Her skin is covered in cuts and bruises, her silver blood pooling around her knees. The soldier torturing her glances at me and backs off.

Walking over to the woman, I bend down and stare into her blue eyes. She looks at me briefly before looking away. I frown and stand up, turning to face the soldier.

“What is her name?” I ask him.

“Not so sure,” he glances at her. “She hasn’t said anything. She hasn’t even screamed yet.”

“Well, make her,” I hiss.

The soldier picks up his whip and lifts it over his shoulder, ready to open more cuts across the woman’s skin. He glances at me, but I don’t let any emotion show on my face. The whip whistles and cracks. Skin splits, and silver blood splatters across the wall. Nine new cuts form along the woman’s torso, chest, and one on her cheek. Tears pour down her face, but she utters not a sound.

I growl and grab a knife. I kneel down in front of her, grabbing her face so she looks at me.

“Who are you?” I snarl.

She spits blood in my face. I wipe at it and slap her hard across the face. I get nothing, not even a pathetic whimper. I stare over my shoulder at the soldier.

“Go search for someone from her clan,” I command. “Bring them here and see if they know her name.”

The soldier nods. “Yes your Highness,” he says, and disappears.

“They’ll beat you,” a voice rasps.

I turn and smirk at the woman. “She speaks,” I say.