Execution; A Shadow Queen’s Tale

“My Queen,” something whispers from the shadows, bowing down at her feet. The woman on the throne lights the blue flame with the tip of her finger, it brings out her malnourished, hollowed cheeks, her long lashes brush her skin as she closes her eyes and rubs her throbbing temples.

“There’s been a disturbance,” the servant whispers, keeping his head down to avoid eye contact. “We found Gourdoni hiding in the tunnels, your highness.”

Her eyes open, a warning to anyone with enough sense to see the seething evil from the multi-colored irises. “Gather all my realms people. Sit them in the court. I will have the Shadow Guard gather the useless rebels. And I will bring the common knowledge they lack.”

“I don’t think—“ the shadows hiss around her as she leans forward, cutting the small man’s sentence off, her eyes linger over him, bloodshot and tired. Slowly, she shifts and pulls on a grin.

“Do as I say,” she whispers into his ear like poison. “Do as I say or,” she stops to chuckle, “or you die. Understood?” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, he manages a meek nod and almost trips over his own feet as he scurries from the room like a small mouse.

She follows him out like her shadows follow her, close and taunting, whispering into his ear. He shakes and shivers against her breath. She grins, sharpened teeth out. She thinks about the flavor of his flesh, the scent of his sweet, sticky blood. She knows he knows.


Entering the court, the room opens up wide, like a beast before it swallows a meal whole. The walls are spotted with brown blood, and red handprints. A torture chamber at best. She breathes in the scent, her shattering smirk stretches wide, consuming the happiness in the room. The people gasp, shrinking and murmuring, only falling silent as she passes.

On the far wall, surrounded by the Shadow Knights and Shadow Guard, is Gourdoni, the most feared assassin alive. He shakes in his spot, cowering from his fate as the Queen enters the room, fearless and confident. “We are gathered here today, for the execution of our beloved Gourdini,” Shadow Queen smiles at her use of horrifying sarcasm. The room buckles under her gaze. “Anyone against it? Speak now.” Her smile tightens, no one dare breathe nor move in the unsettling silence that follows it.

“Have mercy,” Gourdoni begs, falling to his knees as the blade is raised above his head. Shadow Queen pushes his head forward on the slab with her knee, biting his ear gently as she leans, “Would you rather me tear you apart? Piece. By. Piece, mmm?”

“No, no,” he sobs like a man baby, his cheeks shake with the crocodile sized tears.

“Good, good,” she steps back, raising the blade above her head. The sword glistens in the light, brought to life by tears of the frightened crowd. “It won’t hurt a bit,” she swings the blade once. He screams. She swings again. Thrice more and he’s silent.

The bloody pulp of his head lays dismembered on the stone slab. The Queen smiles down at her work, remembering the crush and crunch of his skull. “Now, I’ll excuse myself,” the steps on his limp wrist as she goes, her sharp heel punctures his skin.


This time her feet 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘥 down the hallway. She changed her outfit, switching out her torn suit for her black leather shorts, a black T-shirt and the same cloak as before. The knife stayed strapped onto her thigh. She pinned her golden brown hair up with her twin Black Bladed Brothers, her signature weapon in troubling times, or… in the minor disagreements her universe holds from time to time. Her boots keep a constant bass beat on the stone, echoing down the hallway. The click of the silver spurs is heart hammering as she makes her way to the Dome Cells.

“I tried jumping to you,” he says as soon as the Queen’s face appears on the outside of the cell walls. “Seems you were prepared for others like you,” he motions around to the dome shaped bubble he’s in.

The Queen crosses her arms. “It’s Silent Stone. Keeps your unwanted gifts silent. Too much will kill you. Could slow your breathing patterns or kill you all together,” she stops talking and points to a servant. The servant brings a platter of food and slides it under the slit in the stone door.

“You haven’t a heart. Why feed me?”

“Only because I wish you to choke.”

He laughs, “How charming.”

The Queen’s eyes meet his for a split second and she jerks away, not frightened, but surprised to find him staring at her without blinking. He shifts the too-red apple in his hands, tossing it into the air and catching it with a ruffed palms. He tried to escape, she knows this, because the wounds are blue blooded, not red. Sadly, it’s the only color in the room besides his glowing blue eyes and the apple. He’s been clothed in white, surrounded by white stone and floor.

“What was your proposal?” The Queen paces, putting herself in full view. He stares awhile.

Licking his lips, he replies, “We could be a team; you and I. We could rule this side together, Shadow Queen and her king.”

“How 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 of a thought you’ve dropped upon my lap,” she cackles. “Nearly as poor in judgement as the ones I’ve beheaded. Decapitated.”

“You mean the ones that have gone against you? Striking fear into your heart? Causing you to kill them before they have a chance to defend themselves? That’s why I’m here, correct?” He chuckles alongside her.

She stops suddenly, her smile fading. “What did you just say?” She steps forward.

“I mean, all these people clearly hate you. You’re such a bad queen, afterall. I don’t blame them for disliking you,” the boy leans into the glass and lowers his voice. “Right? You’re such a horrid queen, because you’ve a bad history. It twisted you, something within you… snapped. Allowing whatever— whoever— to enter your soul. Taking over your body.”

She chuckles darkly, her mis-matched eyes darken as if a shadow passed through them. “Guards,” she calls, turning her head to the side slightly, her eyes never leave the boy. “Add more Silent Stone into his 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘣, will you?” Something flickers in his eyes at her words, but she continues, “Because no one. No one. Talks to their Queen like that. Or they carry the punishment.”

The shadows rush forward, snatching up a few servants nearby. They order the servants to pick up the Silent Stone, since it has no effect on them. Slowly, they drop them into the cage. The boy falls to his knees, but his signature calm smile remains, even though the vein in his neck gives away his anger and frustration.

“Oh,” he laughs bitterly. “I’m going to have a terrific time tearing you apart limb by limb, my love.”

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