The crowds of multiple thousand orange-tinted humanoid creatures, the Others, bellowed like animals from the muddy depths of their training caverns, where they normally prepared for combat and forged their weapons in the volcanic pits. At this moment, however, they were all crowded around a muddy cliff high above, where Catherine was perched victoriously, her fist raised into the air, her youthful face smiling smugly out across the endless waves of disgusting creatures. She was thoroughly revolted by having so many of them devoted to her, but at the same time, she knew they were finally about to prove their worth. She laid her fingers upon her throat, a blue light passing into it, which allowed her voice to be projected across the halls for everyone to hear.
“The rumors are true. King Richard HAS fallen!” she boomed triumphantly, sending the crowds into a violent roar of victory, clapping, and happily clanging metal. “He was slain… BY MY OWN HAND!” she screamed with glee out to them, the volume only rising as she said this.
“SIIIILLLLLEEENNNNNCCCCEEEEEE!” she screamed with such fervor that she quieted every single Other throughout the cavernous hall. “You must all listen to me now, and listen well. Richard has fallen, but the fight is not over until we retake the land. MY land. We shall mount an offensive the likes of which the pitiful fools of those lands have never before witnessed, and we shall CRUSH them into the dust beneath our feet, retaking what has rightfully been ours for decades!” she yelled, and a quick whoop of approval came up from the crowds before they were quiet again. “We WILL have vengeance. And I…” she said breathlessly, “…will finally have SATISFACTION!”
Behind her stood four of the tall brute Others, standing guard by the door. To her left and a little back, respectfully and quietly, was Daniel, clutching his hood over his face. She looked to Daniel with a sly grin, and he nodded in his silent approval. “So, I give this message to you all…” restarted Catherine, touching her throat again with the small flash of light. “Awaken your bones. Prepare your weapons. Dust off your armor. And show the sort of allegiance to me that you have SUPPOSEDLY possessed for all this time, because this day shall be ours, THIS day shall be the one where we finally fulfill the dreams of all your fathers and mothers, THIS day shall be the one where our glorious force is made known to the world, for ALL TIME!” she bellowed again, ending her speech. The crowd of creatures erupted into cheering, and most were already pushing past one another to eagerly fetch their weapons and clap on their chainmail. Nodding with success to herself, Catherine stepped away from the ledge and back into the dank hallway that led back to her private quarters again. Daniel followed obediently behind.
“Ensure your troops have followed my orders well, Daniel, I’ll want them ready in precisely three hours to move out.”
“Yes, yes, of course, m’lady, but… is it the one you wanted? The piece of…”
“It is indeed, Daniel,” she said, smiling. “The shard fit perfectly with its brother, and revealed to me the precise location of the keyhole.”
“WHERE, m’lady?” asked Daniel excitedly. Carline moved closer to Daniel’s face, disgusted with having to be in such close proximity to him, but this was a special occasion. She cupped her hands against his ear.
“It’s UNDER the palace itself. UNDER it. Richard has had it hidden right beneath my nose for all this time. That clever, clever, CLEVER old fool…” she mumbled admirably, quickly pulling away. “It’s so LOGICAL… I am insulted that I missed it for so long.”
“You jest, m’lady.”
“Never, Daniel, never. Despite his carefulness and the despite the fact that yes, he managed to hide this rather obvious fact from us for decades, Richard’s own careful planning shall be the death of his beloved kingdom with even more ease. You see, while your troops march upon the hapless villages and provinces, myself, you, and a small cadre of your “finest” ones shall find our way inside the palace and place the crystal inside the keyhole, thusly unlocking my true abilities once again from bondage.”
“That sounds all well and good, m’lady…” said Daniel. “But, despite our numbers and the courage of our men, I have my doubts we shall last more than a few days. With the passing of King Richard, their troops shall have a bloodlust nearly equaling our own, and their ranks far outnumber our own.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel, without Richard’s military guidance, the troops wouldn’t be able to organize correctly. And even if they could, it doesn’t matter. All we need is for your troops to hold OFF the armies for long enough for me to retake what is mine, underneath the palace, and then I assure you, I will be able to wipe out the opposition with a few waves of my hand.”
Daniel stood back, aghast. “You truly are… this powerful once your abilities are returned?”
She winked devilishly. “You haven’t the slightest idea, Daniel, not the slightest one.”
They reached her private quarters, finally, the massive brute guards churning the chain-locked door for the returnees. “Stay back, Daniel, I have something I must attend to. Go forth, and prepare our armies for battle. Our time has finally come.”
Daniel bowed deeply, then stood at attention. “Of course, m’lady,” he answered, hardly able to contain his own excitement about the coming conquest. “Good luck.”
She cackled deeply as she disappeared inside her hall. “Who needs LUCK?” Stepping toward the fires of her hall, alone at last, Catherine sighed deeply, then pointed her fingers at it, sending a spray of sparks out of her palms. The fire turned purple, then dark green, and finally blood red. It grew in size as she kept her trembling hands trained on the fire, her concentration unbroken. She closed her eyes. She had pulled this one off successfully only a few times before since she lost her abilities. She had doubts it would work this time, and yet the animalistic, killing spirit that had been rising up in her since she finally defeated her greatest foe was fueling her desires, and she actually found herself projecting a fuzzy image into the fire. She was succeeding.
Dark eyes appeared in the fire. Then a nose. Then soft lips. A matted head of golden hair appeared next, life and color coming to the image in the midst of the fire. Grunting from the effort to keep the spell intact and sweating profusely down her back, Catherine clenched her fists together, bringing a full picture of Caroline’s sleeping face into view of the fire. Then, she began to spin her wrists from side to side, clenching at empty air, contorting the space. Finally, she saw the image of Caroline’s face twitch, uncomfortably, and she smiled. “Sleep well, “little” princess. Sleep well, and dream of pleasant things…” she sang, gleeful that she had pulled off the spell. Her concentration now so focused she knew the spell would be played out like a puppet on strings, she began curling and uncurling her fingers in practiced motion, her eyes fixed like iron locks on the image of the sleeping, giant princess.
Caroline rolled over, waking up in another blurred world. Blinking didn’t help, as usual. At first, she thought she was lying down, but upon rolling her head groggily up, she realized she wasn’t lying down, nor had she been sleeping (she thought), because she was reclining in a large, golden throne. Upon looking around, she realized she was back in the Great Hall, sitting in her father’s throne. She gasped to realize that she was once again, inexplicably, her normal size again. Before she could even react further, though, or stand up to go rush to find any of her loved ones to show them the miracle, she threw her hands out and they suddenly touched against a table, solid gold as well, its cool touch shocking her, as she hadn’t even noticed it there before. It was tightly pressed against the throne, so she couldn’t stand up anyway. Then, blinking again, she found a large bowl, also solid gold, sitting on the table. Trembling, and very worried about what was going on now, Caroline stooped forward, and felt her air disappear from her lungs at what she saw inside.
Her father, her mother, her sister, her brother, and her beloved prince were all cowering at the base of the bowl, hugging one another together. Each one looked like they couldn’t have been more than two inches tall or so, Phillip and Anne even smaller. Caroline grasped the sides of the bowl in her hands, careful not to shake it or knock it over. “No… no… NO!” screeched Caroline in terror. “ALL of you? No, it can’t be… what’s going on… it’s supposed to be ME, not you all…” she cried out, her heart beating faster. “I’ve… I’ve got to do something…”
“Caroline!” squeaked Anne from the middle of the bowl. “Please help us!”
“Yes, little sister, of course I shall!” whispered Caroline. Gently, she lowered a hand into the side of the bowl, and all of her family looked at it, unnerved a bit by the size of the princess. She knew that she must look nearly three hundred feet tall to her terrified, crouching family, but Caroline knew she would have to keep them safe. She softly tapped her fingernail against the metallic bowl, clicking it louder than she meant, which made her whole family flinch. “Please, everyone, don’t be afraid of me… it’s just me, it’s Caroline. I… I must protect you all, you all have become… so small, you might be hurt. Please, you’ve got to trust me; climb into my hand!” she whispered with force, but gentleness at the same time so as not to scare them.
“Thank you, dear!” shouted out Elizabeth to ensure Caroline heard, and her entire family began loading themselves into her hand. She began to raise her arm back up, her entire family cupped peacefully inside her palm, which she helped cover with her other hand. Suddenly, however, in a blink of flashing green, she felt her wrists freeze in place, quivering as she tried to continue moving her family out of the bowl. Suddenly, through no fault of her own, her hands parted, dropping her entire family back into the bowl, which to them was a story-high distance. They all screamed as they smashed against the metal bottom, as did Caroline upon seeing what she had done.
“Oh, no!” gasped Caroline, her eyes almost flooding with this act alone. “I’m so sorry! Please, oh please, tell me you’re all all right! You must be, I can’t have…” gasped the princess, shrinking back in fear of her destructive power. “I… I cannot touch you,” she uttered quietly, terrified now.
“CAROLINE!” yelled out the tiny voice of Phillip from the bowl. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t KNOW!” she shouted out to the echoing hall with great pain. “Why does all of this keep happening to me? I don’t know what to do…” she said, placing her hands on her cheeks.
“Perhaps not. But I certainly do…” came a cold, calm voice from the bottom of the stairs leading up to the throne. Caroline looked up, and felt her entire body quaking, half in fear, and half in blind rage to see the witch, Catherine approaching without apprehension.
“YOU!” she yelled out in anguish. “You’ve caused ALL of this, EVERYTHING!”
“Oh, so you’re a fan, dearest princess?” laughed Catherine. “I would have hoped you’d like my poor little tricks. I’ve been practicing them for years, after all.”
“But… but WHY all of this hatred, this pain, this loss?”
“For a very simple reason… Caroline,” answered Catherine. “Those are all the things I faced for more years than you could hope to count when regarding such things as hatred, pain, and loss. I was forced to drown in those three, while your noble father feasted heartily on the fruits of his success, allowing all of us to rot in the depths of the Otherlands. Not a fair trade, I daresay.”
“What HAPPENED between you? What caused such agony?”
Catherine smiled. “He never told you? I suppose he wouldn’t have, it doesn’t exactly reflect well on him… nor me, for that matter…”
“WHAT?” yelled Caroline desperately, the tension killing her. “Tell me!”
But Catherine was no longer listening to the upset young monarch; she was instead allowing her gaze to fall into the bowl. She smiled widely. “Quite the… nice little family you have, young princess. I sincerely hope you take care of them well…” she said, and Caroline’s heart skipped a beat as she saw Catherine’s smooth, claw-like hand descending slowly towards the contents of the bowl.
“NO!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “STAY AWAY FROM THEM! LEAVE THEM ALONE!”
“Now, now, now, princess…” tittered the witch. Her hand rose from the bowl, and Caroline saw, with blood-chilling horror, that her fingers were clenched around King Richard, who was struggling violently.
“Put me DOWN, Catherine, I DEMAND it!” he bellowed in a small voice. Caroline leapt forward, her hands outstretched to rescue her tiny father from the horrible, monstrous woman, but Catherine simply snapped her fingers. Instantly, the princess felt an invisible force on her stomach, which slammed her hard against the back of the throne. She kicked and struggled, flailing her limbs, but she couldn’t even get out of the throne. She began to breathe more heavily.
“Richard, dear…” said Catherine dramatically, holding him up to her face. “You are indeed a spritely little fellow, aren’t you?”
“Catherine… I don’t understand how this has happened, but you SHALL reverse the effects at once!” he roared.
“Of course, your grace, of course,” she said, smiling slyly over at the struggling princess, before returning her gaze to the king. “It’s a simple matter of… squeezing you back into your decidedly much taller, normal frame. Allow me to demonstrate…” she said, and suddenly she was squeezing with all her might around the body of the king.
“PLEASE! STOP!” screamed Caroline again, tugging so tightly against the invisible, magical bonds it was cutting off her air supply. But she didn’t stop, and a moment later, Caroline heard the soft crunch of the king’s bones. He went limp in the gigantic hand of Catherine, who parted her fingers and allowed the once-again destroyed king to fall to the ground.
“Perhaps I used too much force. What do you think, dear?” she asked pleasantly. The princess screamed madly at her, shaking her hair around, wriggling her wrists in vain. “Calm yourself, princess, you shan’t have to watch anymore of this.”
“R-Really?” sputtered Caroline, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t want you to become bored. No, you’re going to participate now. Go ahead,” she said, holding her hand out toward the bowl. “Take one.”
“N-N-NO!” stuttered the princess, having trouble processing the request in her heart and mind. “I would NEVER hurt my family. You’ve… you’ve… you’ve killed my FATHER!” The tears began flowing down her soft cheeks.
“Relax, dear Caroline… he was days away from it anyway, have you seen that white hair of his?” she asked jokingly. The princess became stoic, her face turning a pasty white. She didn’t know what to do but sit and stew in her mental wallows of grief. “Very well…” stated the witch. “If you can’t be bothered to take one…” she said. “I suppose I am inclined to lend you a helping hand.”
Suddenly, Caroline felt the magical bonds tugging her away from the throne. She struggled against them as her body was dragged forward toward the bowl. And then her arm reached out, her fingers forming a violent looking claw shape as they reached for the contents of the bowl: not in the soft, slow manner that Caroline had taken up when scooping low to pick something up, but in the aggressive manner Catherine tended to act with. Fighting to pull her arm back, Caroline watched helplessly as her fingers wrapped around the body of her mother, who had leapt up from weeping over Richard’s loss and was trying to dash away. It was no use, though; a second later, Caroline’s fingers were wrapped around the frail form of her mother and she had lifted her out, holding her before her face.
Her mother squirmed in Caroline’s grip, which was much rougher and tighter than the princess would ever dare try to hold a person, and she began to cry harder, her face soaked, as she was unable to do anything but watch the ensuing terribleness. “It… it will be all right, mother…” she said through her choked voice as her mother was helplessly compressed against her normally gentle fingers, although she had a feeling it wouldn’t be all right. “P-Please…” she begged, looking up at Catherine. “Stop this…”
“Of course…” spoke Catherine icily, raising an eyebrow. She clenched her own fist, and as she did, Caroline did as well with a powerful and authoritative squeeze, crunching her mother between her fingers with a loud snap, followed by a terrible, wet squish. Caroline screamed at the top of her lungs, convulsing, feeling her hand go cold from lack of blood. Shaking uncontrollably, Caroline’s fingers released, allowing her mother’s broken corpse to drop to the ground. Caroline began to sob, breathing so heavily she couldn’t even get a full swallow of oxygen.
“No… mother… no…” she mumbled, unable to process what had just happened, her jaw dropping. Her skin hurt she was in such shock, like a sheet of ice settling in over her. She was barely conscious of the world around her, staring down at the little body lying on the ground, her tears splashing down and forming a puddle around her. Suddenly, she became aware that her stained hand was back in the bowl, fishing around. Her fingers pinched against a pair of legs that instantly tripped, allowing her the ability to grab them up. She dangled Luke by his foot as she pulled him from the bowl, bringing him to her face. Her teary eyes met his, and he looked at her as reassuringly as he could, although she could understandably see the fear.
“I think I’ll let you two lovebirds have a quick moment together…” said the witch. “Go on; I won’t be kept waiting, though.”
“Luke…” coughed Caroline, shaking so much that Luke began to vibrate in her forced grip around his ankles. He nodded groggily at her. “Please for… for… forgive me…” she wept, the tears splashing down to her lap, blurring her vision even more.
“Caroline… it will be all right, I know it will…”
“What? How can you say…”
“It just will. Don’t feel bad, or wrong. I know it’s not your doing.”
“But LUKE…”
“Time’s UP!” called out Catherine, and suddenly Caroline’s hand holding Luke was outstretched, and Luke was tumbling downward, into her lap. He rolled along the folds of her dress and then stopped as Caroline’s thighs snapped together, where he was held in the space between her clenched legs. The princess tried to part her legs, grunting loudly from the effort to part her limbs, but this wasn’t going to happen, and suddenly, the incredible weight of her quads was pressing in against the prince. He moaned in pain, and the princess began to feel she wouldn’t be able to stay conscious as she watched her helpless love mashed in the space between her legs, just below her knee.
“STOP!” screeched the princess up at the witch, who just shrugged at her. “PLEASE!”
“You won’t want to look at me, Caroline, that handsome face of his won’t be intact for much longer.”
Crying, and reaching her fingers out to save him from his fate, she found the bonds holding her wrists back. All she could do was look on, her face bursting into a new wave of convulsions and tears as she felt the squishy pop in the folds of her dress.
Her hand descended back in to the bowl, Caroline’s face despondent. She felt legs kicking against her fist, and her fingers flicked outward all by themselves, striking the body hard. It began to shake in fear as Caroline felt her sweating palm wrap itself around the next helpless body, subdued with the simple motion of her fingers, removing it from the bowl. She looked on with horror to see Anne held in her fist.
“No… please, my sister… spare her…” cried Caroline, struggling so hard to put her sister back in the bowl that her arm began to violently ache. “She’s only a CHILD!” she screamed in anguish at Catherine, who had crossed her arms in amusement. “You… you cannot. Look upon her; she has d-done you no wrong, Catherine. Please… you have… you have taken so much from me already…” she wept, hanging her head in defeat. “I will do anything you ask of me, if you will allow my siblings safe passage away. Anything, just… just let them go. Please…” wheezed the princess, hardly able to breathe, the pits of her stomach twisted so much she had cramps all over her body. “Please… have mercy.” Catherine tsked at her.
“Noooo… no, princess, I’m afraid that’s not on our agenda today…” giggled Catherine, leaning over the table and causing Caroline to wince. Anne was struggling in her fingers, and Caroline felt, with dismay, her fingers crushing in further. Anne began to weep. “C-C-Caroline?” she whimpered. “H-Help me. P-Please?” she cried pathetically. Caroline had to look away from the tiny girl in her hands as she continued clenching around her, forcing the air from her lungs; she couldn’t bear to look on it any more. Her lips quivering, she pushed herself as hard as she could against the magical bonds. “PLEASE!” she cried at the top of her lungs. “LET HER GO!”
Without another word, Catherine wiggled her fingers, and Caroline was leaning over towards the ground. Her fingers released, allowing Anne to drop to the ground. Caroline breathed a sigh of relief. There really was mercy deep inside the broken, dark soul of Catherine, somewhere. Caroline felt her breathing calming, as despite the life-wrecking losses she had just directly incurred, her sister would live. Suddenly, though, as Anne began to crawl away, her ribs probably cracked, Caroline’s bare foot rose up from the cool ground, moving toward the hapless girl, wiggling her toes in a predatory way.
“Wait… no… NO!” screamed the princess. The ball of her foot pressed down on her sister, rolling her helplessly under her sole. She mashed down hard but slowly, working her into the solid ground, and a matter of seconds later, Caroline felt warm wetness covering the bottom of her foot. She closed her eyes to avoid seeing the sight as her foot was calmly ordered by Catherine’s spell to move back to its original position with a damp smearing sound. At this point, Caroline was beyond response, it seemed, her eyes glossed over. There was almost nothing left for her. Nothing, except…
“Don’t slack on your duties, princess. There’s another yet!” cackled the queen, and Caroline felt like she was swallowing her heart into her stomach. It couldn’t be. Catherine’s heart couldn’t possibly be black enough to…
Her hand shot forward, gripping the side of the bowl and bringing it close to her chest. Caroline looked down at her screaming and crying brother inside, and her tears began to pool anew at the base. She had nothing left to yell, and barely any words. “Catherine…” she croaked, so beyond spent she doubted she could go on much longer without fainting, or dying. “Please… forgive my father. Forgive… me… and don’t punish my brother. He’s… he’s all I have left in the world. Please don’t take him from me…”
“Why, my dear princess, I don’t know WHAT you speak of; you will ALWAYS be with that brother of yours!” she said, flipping her hand over. Following suit, Caroline’s own cursed hand tipped, allowing the bowl to tilt toward the open side. Phillip tumbled out, falling over the edge into Caroline’s waiting hand, which clasped around him and shattered Caroline’s heart once again as she felt him fighting uselessly against her strength. She brought him nearer to her face, and was forced to look him in the eye as her fingers began squishing into his sides.
“C-Caroline… w-why are you… h-hurting me?” he whimpered. “I… I l-love you, big sister!”
Caroline felt like a knife was being wrenched through her body and down to her toes as she realized that Phillip wasn’t aware of what was happening to her. “I love you too, Phillip.”
“Please… l-let me go, Caroline, let me go…” he cried, before screaming out in pain as a bone broke in his body. “It h-hurts so m-much.” Caroline brought her other hand, which she still had control of, up near his face, rubbing it along his hair.
“Don’t… don’t be afraid, Phillip. I’m so… I’m so sorry… for everything…” she wept, trying to comfort him with one hand while simultaneously torturing him with the other. After a few minutes of this, Caroline felt her jaws being pried open by the spell, and Phillip’s limp, but alive form, being lifted toward her waiting lips.
“Told you you’d be with him forever, princess,” grinned Catherine satanically, pointing her finger out dramatically. Caroline used every ounce of strength she still possessed, but it was no use; her fingers gently released Phillip’s body, still convulsing with pain and sobbing, over her own teeth. Caroline began to scream anew, but hardly any sound was able to escape. She waved her freed arms around, trying to grab her brother out of her mouth, but it was no use; there were more invisible bonds around her wrists, and the longer she yelled, shredding her vocal cords, the more pain her body felt as Phillip was plopped onto her tongue, becoming soaked in her saliva. She felt him writhing against it, and she heard his tiny screams still coming from inside her mouth as he started drowning in her warm froth. With a final tear falling down her cheek, Caroline felt her brother slip down her slimy throat toward her stomach: the tiny, 6-year-old corpse of her sweet, unassuming little sibling about to be used to nourish her body. Caroline gagged and wretched, laying a hand on her stomach and crying to think of her beloved sibling roasting inside of it. More tears poured down her cheeks at her inability to save him, or any of the rest of her family. She felt sicker than she had or would ever feel in her life, and she collapsed, silently screaming into darkness as Catherine laughed like a madwoman over her.
“Dream well, princess. Dream well.”