The Blood of Darkness

Chapter 1

C O P Y R I G H T

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, other Wattpad works, other books, or locales is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission from the copyright owner except for the use of recommending this book or a book review. Plagiarism will not be tolerated.

Copyright © 2021 by Annabel K. George.

Val

He wanted a monster. I gave him one.

It still wasn't enough...

Or maybe it was too much.

The lock on my cell door turns, and I look up from my gruesome stitching. After the Dark King's visits, I usually enter a state of numbness, the likes of which I'm in right now. Sometimes, when you feel so much, you begin to feel nothing at all.

A young guard, most likely a year or two older than me, steps into the cell. I vaguely recognize his dark skin and hulking frame from my "trips" around the newly refurbished castle. A castle of snow and ice turned into a castle of darkness and suffering.

"Hello," I say, my voice hoarse from screaming. I glance around my cold, concrete cell. "Excuse all the blood."

The guard stares at the blood-covered floor, his face whitening in horror. It's not normal, red blood. My blood is black.

Why? The answer is simple, really. I'm a monster.

The word has been whispered in my ear so often that sometimes, it's all I can hear, all I can think, all I know. Monster.

"Can you walk?" the guard asks softly, his gaze going to my right leg, which I have outstretched before me. An unnaturally straight, deep cut runs from my foot to my mid-thigh. I'm halfway through stitching it back up, just having finished my left leg.

Oh, how I'd love to do to Dark King what he has done to me. I don't think about freedom anymore. My hope left a long time ago. Instead, I dream about revenge. Revenge and blood and screaming, so much screaming.

I also dream of war. Of darkness and light and—

"Can you walk?" the guard repeats, staring at me oddly. He must think that I've gone insane. Truthfully, I believe that I have, in a way. I'll never be who I used to be.

Can I walk? I've been too malnourished for months to even try. The best I can probably do is drag myself around. Then again, you never know your limits until they are tested. Just like I never knew how much I could scream until I started being tortured on a daily basis.

I look at the guard and shake my head. His brows furrow. He moves toward me, carefully stepping around the blood. I don't know why he takes so much care to avoid it; his boots are black anyways. He halts a few feet from me. It's obvious that he's afraid of me. I don't blame him. I'm afraid of myself, too.

More specifically, I'm afraid of the Darkness within me. I'm afraid of my limits and my strength and the hollow feeling of emptiness inside me.

"What is it?" I ask the guard. Guards barely ever come in my cell. Especially alone. Last time there were guards in here, there were five of them, and they dragged me to the throne room, where the Dark King showed me my throne. It was beautiful and opulent, encrusted with shimmering black diamonds. I refused to sit on it, next to him, just as I had refused to be his bride. When he ordered a group of guards to drag me onto the throne, I killed them all in the blink of an eye with my cursed, dark magic. That day ended with heavier Lychnus shackles and my blood on the cell floor. Lots of it.