#3

Feed a fire and it shall never die. Feed people with fear and they shall always bow to you. A king who once had been banished from heaven, thrown into the limitless darkness of abyss, inside a prison which gate did not exist, which walls could never break— yet somehow he managed to climb out of hell, laughing. Black blood ran through his veins, a spider with crooked legs and each spread in a different, unnatural angle right beneath his skin, as pale as a dying moon.

Dark gemstones melted into thousands upon thousands layers of cursed black void. Darkness spilling out of his irises, black paint into clear water. Misfortune was brought upon someone who dared to stare at his eyes long enough. His fingers thrummed with bloodthirst, his blood howling for another prey to soothe the untamed beast lurked deep within him.

At one night, when the lonely moon hung lowly and freckles of dimmed stars hid behind the strands of clouds, he walked upon earth and a continent falling beneath his feet. Dozens set of armies came to challenge him, all brave boys who were not ready to march into their graves, they knew death so simple would not be their fate. He would rip their throat and steal every heap of oxygen inside their lungs. Yet with one last gasping breath, they would apologize wasting his time for suffocating. And with a twitch of his finger, kingdom after kingdom was slaughtered and wretched.

A curse in disguise as a king— death in a form of a plague that had been waiting to swallow them whole. And no one was immuned to the sickness. No one could stand in his way to rule his kingdom, to sit on his bloodstained throne. His hands were always clean and for that he washed them in a sink of blood of innocent children.

The fire behind his eyes could have burned down a village. His voice would rumble, a thunder that could bring god of gods scrambled to their knees. The corner of his mouth twitched and his lips were pulled into a smile. It was not a smile of a predator that was leeching life from its prey. It was not an ear-to-ear smile of a stranger stalking you behind your shadow. It was a smile of Death that was meant for bloodshed.