Chapter two: "it isn't corn that they lust for, it's my head."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Audric slams the front door of the palace shut. The yelps and caterwauls are thundering and shaking the area, much tumultous than before.

"What did you do?" I ask him, debating on whether or not I did the right choice on if I should or shouldn't have asked him.

"I tried my best to calm them down. I assured them that we would figure something out sooner or later. Something that would be fair to the both of us. We have a surplus of nourishment. We don't need any more food than we already have, and for them that's the complete opposite. I told them that tonight I would let them in and that we will host a banquet. It's practically a win-win. If that all goes well, we might have a chance to live tonight."

"I am not opening my doors to those people."

"Why not? If you don't do this then they are just going to keep on repeating the exact same thing they are doing at this moment. How are they going to eat and drink when they constantly are chanting for justice without leaving the kingdom's square?"

"If I have to, I will feed them, but they are not stepping foot in my castle. They will find another way to get their needs if I decline what you just shared with them. I seen it happen 12 years ago when our enemies struck us. We won the war, you seen the remainder of those savages fleeing, but we were left with nothing but a faulty castle and a village that was missing a whole lot more than a bunch of damaged tiles, roofs, and bricks. They shot cannons that blew up our markets and pantries. But, even when exhaustion and sickness overtook us, we still managed to find vegetables and fruits as well as other valuable items after traveling several hundreds of miles. My father and his men rebuilt Tarmsworth and until his death we were thriving. They won't die from a lack of food and water, that I promise you."

"I remember that. I was with your father when that occured. We had been discussing what would happen if he had died and the Nakariens won the battle. But, tell me, how does that relate to not allowing those people out there to enter this kingdom?"

"Food is the least of their worries. They want justice. My father died a week ago today, and because of that I am now the king. They all expected me to follow into his footsteps, perhaps even evolve into a ruler that was far greater than him, and then I make the grave mistake of accidentally burning not just their crops, but their trust in me. It isn't corn that they lust for, it's my head."

Running my hands through my disheveled light-toned hair, he studies the agressive men and women that are banging on the fogged glasses and shouting as if it were the end of the world. Then he peeks up at me, as if he was deciding whether or not to agree.

"Are you really reasoning with yourself on this? When we were talking just minutes ago in my bedroom, I looked straight at those wretched human-beings. You didn't see what I seen. The hatred flowing through their veins was impractical to miss. They wanted blood, and if those doors magically open, you're predominantly giving it to them."

Trudging away into my bedroom, I leave him to think about his choices.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Grabbing the red, rubber ball that was buried beneath the piles of clothes in my wooden dresser, I grasp onto it and plop myself onto my comfortable mattress that contained hundreds of feathers from the turkeys father and I would hunt for every Sunday morning.

I really miss those times.

With the toy in my hand, I hurl it just above the double doorway. Cracks are spread throughout the dark, crimson-coated brick walls and in my opinion, it really looks nice. It has a beautiful rustic appeal to it which reminds me of the walls of my dads favorite restaurant.

I continue launching the minor object until I can no longer hear the blaring noises from behind me.

"Why did he have to leave this world so soon? It wasn't his time, yet." I wonder to myself, while looking up above at the cob web covered ceiling that needed to be dusted off expeditiously.

I would be a fool to think that I would get a response, but unexpectedly, I do.

"It wasn't his time, that's for sure." A voice coming from the entrance of the hallway quickly ejaculates.

It doesn't take me long at all to figure out who the ginormous figure is. His back is leaning up against the entryway, legs are casually crossed, and his eyes are positioned on my hands flinging the sphere.

"I'm not in the mood, Audric. Not right now. I am stressed, and I am tired. Please listen to your king and obey me." I request for him to leave me the hell alone, but knowing Audric, he is not going to listen to me that easily.

"You're not the king, yet." He responds, sitting down on the edge of my bed but remembering that it can't hold his weight. Instead, he plunks down on the freezing cold marbled tile.

"If you defeat Gustus, your opponent, then you will be the ruler of this city. It's that simple."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I say that with nothing but honesty. What do you mean I have to fight this guy? My dad was the king, and I am his spawn. How come I don't get the right to the throne?"

"That doesn't mean anything. If the villagers feel as if you aren't worthy to be their leader, which has been the exact case for them recently, they have the right to vote for one person to fight against the king who is next up in line for the throne." I was absolutely appalled to hear this.

I really wasn't being mendacious when I said that this was the most stupidest thing I have ever heard.

"So, we are creating a democratic government where these people vote for what they believe in? Is that what is happening? Are we following right after our enemies now?" Vexation was rising strongly in me.

The Nakarians chose to go to war with us, and that was the downfall of their civilization. If these deranged, psychotic villagers are influenced by them, then my kingdom will be replaced with nothing but violence and brutality. I will not allow that.

"That's correct. Your father and I decided on this when he rose to the throne and captured the title of the new ruler. I don't intend on changing this, so if you do give your opinion and it's against this, then you already have my answer."

Gutted in defeat, I give up and put my thoughts to sleep, rather than them running around freely wrecking havoc wherever they tread.

"Fine. Speaking of a democracy, I'm guessing that they picked Gustus?" I ask, rubbing my temple as I ponder all of the things he's previously told me.

"Looks like someone is finally growing a brain. Only took about sixteen years. However, I've seen much faster," He teases, emitting a slight chuckle.

"Oh, shush. At least I have one."

Placing the ball back in my dresser, I hear an obnoxious set of knocks looming from the front door. My eyes immediately check with Audric's to try and get a hint as to what's happening.

He gets up off of the chilling floor, and hurriedly makes his way to the front door. I follow after him, unsure about what will happen next.

With his muscular arm, the beautiful, grand drape is lifted up. Sneaking to his side, I spot a villager a tad bit smaller than Audric continously pounding his tremendous, obese fingers against the ligneous egress.

The strikes accomodate so much force that if we don't act rapidly and open the barrier, he might be the one letting himself in.

"Is that him?" I whisper, silently praying that it is not.

He stands out from the rest of the crowd as does the role of a sore thumb, so it would make a whole lot of since if he was the one who was wishing to challenge me.

"Bingo." Hearing this response sends shivers down my spine.

I had a feeling that he was the guy, but I silently hoped that my answer would be false.

"Look at his size compared to me! He is a literal beast! Even if he was sleeping I'm pretty positive that he could kill me!"

"We've trained for this. You are the son of Rubin Cromwell, the greatest king that has ever ruled. You were born for this. Knockout Gustus, and prove your father's followers wrong. Convince them that you are the one and only person fit for this role."

"You and I both know that I can't do that. I'm going to fail. I might as well be handing the throne right over to him."

"With that attitude one thing is for sure. You are going to lose if you aren't optimistic about this. I promise that you can win. You will win. Your father is in the afterlife somewhere, free of pain and exhaustion. He is looking down on you at this very moment, giving you all of his strength. Make him proud, Ryker." It's funny how just a small amount of confidence can change your entire outlook on things.

"You're right. I got this." Willingly, I apply a deceitful smile on my face and open the door, already getting anxious at what is to come.

Gustus, you better watch out. I am not going down without a fight."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The prodigious mob was circling around us. Gustus, Audric, and I were inside of that ring. Rocks were continually being thrown at me. They formed bruises and cuts all over my body that hurt like hell. I had to overcome the pain by myself. Audric couldn't help with anything, which I found hysterical knowing that he was my protector. But, apparently it was one of the rules. If he rebeled against that, then he would be publicly tied up to a pole and each and every one of the people whom were watching us would get the opportunity to beat him to death.

If you personally ask me, that doesn't sound like much fun. Definitely not the way I would want to depart from this cruel, unfair world.

"Are you two ready?" He asks Gustus and I.

"Nope. Not at all." My whole body was shaking. I was nervous just thinking about what could happen and the match hasn't even begun yet.

"When I win this match that title will belong to me. I've got major reformations planned. This is all just a waste of time fighting with this kid who doesn't have what it takes to rule this kingdom. I'm ready, so stop wasting my time!" He responds, punching Audric in the nose. Blood starts dripping just seconds subsequently.

Alright, now I was pissed. That wasn't necessary at all.

"Now we are." I blurt out, kicking the beast who stands just in front of me right in the middle of the stomach.

But, before I manage to do that, he grabs hold of my foot. He wasn't alarmed at all by my actions. It was as if he knew that I was going for that.

He spins me throughout the air and then releases me.

My head is cushioned on a very comfortable rock as I reach the ground.

I gently caress the spot on the back of my skull. Removing my warm and wet hands, blood is stained all over them and it isn't exactly the prettiest sight.

Even though I don't feel like getting back up, I perservere and jump to the ground, my shoes pressed against the mucky floor.

He runs over to punch me in the mouth, but as soon as he prepares to do so, I duck and he passes right by me, tumbling down and smashing his face right on the filthy ground.

I rush over and repeatedly beat his face with my gory hands. The eyes and nose that belong to him beginning to bruise as every punch is produced.

A rock is right in my grasp and I clench onto it. It's held far above his head and just as I arrange for it to come into contact with his face, he rolls over and I entirely miss him.

My hand is grabbed and he then twists it so far that I can't hold in my shrieks. The pain is agonizing. I allow for the ears of everybody watching to hear my cries of torment.

Finally, when I get ready to hear a crack, he ceases his actions. Closing my eyes, my breathing calms down and relaxes.

A gust of wind flows right over my chest and it feels absolutely delightful.

Taking a short, but much needed break, I open my peepholes and there he is with his arms spread out and focused on the people in front of him.

"Long live the king!" Escapes his mouth and enters my ears. Cheers along with chants of "long live the king!" fill the courtyard of the domain.

As I launch myself to my feet, I am pushed back down and his knees are pressed onto my elbows, acting as the only thing that is preventing me from getting back up.

The rock I was about to use during our fight just seconds ago is revealed in his left hand, and I know exactly what he's going to do with it.

In this case he was the vicious predator, and here I was the prey; unprotected, defenseless, and helpless.

"Later, you will meet Karma yourself. And it won't show you mercy. I can be sure of that." With the diminutive amount of strength I have, I manage to spit out my last acknowledgement.

"Instead of just handing the throne over to me, the weakling you are decided to fight me for it. I am karma."

The last thing I can see is his black-hearted grin before he smashes the rough object onto my forehead.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Discomfort is all that I can feel. It's not the worst feeling, but it definitely isn't the best. Stitches are dotted along my forehead, and they are extremely sensitive. The blood that was stained onto my fingers and all over my hands is no longer recognizable. If you hadn't seen it in the first place, you would have never known that it was there. But, I can very much assure you that it was.

I'm settled on a very tiny mattress in what looks like my closet. My back is positioned against the aged brick wall, and it doesn't help at all with decreasing the pain shooting from my forehead. If anything, it makes it much worse.

A mildly illuminated lantern is what makes the room bright. Water is in a glass cup across from me and jerky is inside of a plastic container directly beside that.

Hesitating, I crawl over the floor and grab one of the pieces of jerky and chew it. Then I drink some of the hot water to swallow it down.

It tastes delicious. I never really cared for it before, but because I am starving, I don't care what it is that I eat.

My back is aching from the rocks. I take off my coat and inspect it for any life-changing injuries. Surprisingly, there aren't any gashes. Just swampy green-colored bruises that have changed the hue of my back.

The door handle isn't far at all. I grab the lantern, and reach for the door to use it to help me stand up. After I finish doing that, I silently turn it and push it open. It does make a scraping sound, but apart from that it isn't very loud.

No yelling or screaming can be heard outside. It's very peaceful. Ultimately, my ears can take a much needed rest.

With every step I take, the floors squeak. Of course it is at the time when I wish they wouldn't.

Except for my lantern, there are no lights shining in the castle. The blinds are shut blocking the moonlight from infiltrating inside. If they were open, it would make for a hell of a difference.

I decide not to switch them and leave them the way they are. If I was hiding in the closet then it's probably for a salient reason. Nobody except for Audric needs to know I'm here.

Reaching the livingroom was difficult. The clamor the floor manufactured reverberated throughout the gloomy passageways, compelling me to watch where I stepped extra cautiously.

The fireplace is currently powered on and running. I don't know how I didn't perceive or hear the logs of lumber burning as time went by.

A dark silhouette is hunched over the heat wave placing chunks of timber inside and feeding the famished machine.

"Audric? Is that you?" My voice is hushed. Unsure as to if I had just asked for a death wish or made the right choice.

The towering physique converts his attention to me. Understanding who I am, he examines my body. Lifting up the back of my shirt and carefully feeling the wound on my head.

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" Instead of giving me a warning, he determines that he is just going to engulf me with his hairy arms and allow the pain to introduce itself.

"I'd be feeling a whole lot better if you would be a bit more gentle." Carefully removing his body parts, a wave of guilt sweeps across his freckled face.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me." This guy was my best friend. Of course I would forgive him. We may have our ups and downs, but who doesn't?

"Relax. You have been forgiven. I assume that you were the one who helped me?"

"Yes. You may have lost the battle, but I will always be your protector. The king doesn't approve of that, though. He thinks you're dead. They all do." I couldn't help but to feel somewhat ecstatic.

I mean, I'm alive when I shouldn't be. He's risking his life to save mine. I don't know many people in this world who would do that for me.

"Once again, you saved my life. Thank you. If it wasn't for you then I don't think I would have got the chance to meet sixteen. I'm forever in your debt."

"Don't mention it. I'm your caretaker. I have had the privilege to be with you for 6,021 days and make sure that you flourish in this prejudiced world. That is my sole purpose in life. Without you I have no reason to keep on going. You are always saying that I'm the one saving you when it's the downright opposite."

"I'm glad you are in my life." It is unfeasible to keep the tears locked away.

The embankment eventually caves in, generating an expansive river of tears that begins to trail down my parched cheeks which aren't so parched anymore.

Before he has time to react to anything I just said, a deep voice calls his name from the kitchen.

"I will be right back. Stay quiet, stay hidden, stay alive." With a nod, we part our ways. Him heading to the kitchen as the servant requested, and me wordlessly sneaking into the bedroom that belonged to my fathers but now is claimed by a piece of trash.

An ear-splitting snore vanquishes the tranquil silence. The warm room is filled with an unpleasant aroma. It smells of rotten cheese mixed with vomit.

As I wander around, the scent begins to escalate. Walking towards it is a strenous task that I don't feel like pursuing. My nostrils feel as they're going to explode at any second, but luckily, they don't.

Gustus wears the odor as a rich person would a cologne. What makes everything so much worse is that there is a bathroom behind him, another reason why these people chose the wrong king for this job. Pure laziness is what it all comes down to.

That's fine, though. I haven't finished the fight, yet. After I do what I am about to do laziness won't exist anymore.

A nightstand is installed next to where he sleeps. I slide the middle drawer out, and a pocket knife is resting on an unpigmented fabric.

This was my dad's favorite tool. If I hadn't known him myself, I would have definitely guessed incorrectly on his favorite weapons.

Being a wealthy ruler, you would think that depending on the type of weapons he owned his most cherished would have to be one of the most dangerous and deadly there possibly is, but that would be false.

My grandfather crafted this for him on his thirteenth birthday. I was hoping that one day he would even hand it down to me and I would get the opportunity to do the same for my children, but that's not going to happen now.

Cancelling my thoughts, I focus on the thing I came in here to do: kill Gustus.

Seizing the chance, I tightly grip onto it and point it just below his chin. Then, I run it along his thick neck. Blood squirts all over me. Blemishing not only my face and hands, but also my cozy apparel.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

His head was held securely in my drenched fingers. The oozing liquid was pooling out of his lips and dripping onto the surface of the floor. Leaving behind cardinal-colored stains wherever my feet took me.

While I had just arrived into the living room, Audric did the same thing. He was staring at me, disbelief clear in his expressions.

"Karma's a bitch." Reaching my hand out, I extend it towards him, rolling the decapitated head across the costly flooring.

Word count: 3750 words.

What did you guys think? 🥰🤩 I had so much fun writing this chapter, and I hope that you enjoyed reading it. Please be honest with your opinions and thoughts! Thanks for reading!

-Beau