Death's Governer

Sand gave way beneath the demon’s heel, bowing to the heavy tread each step brought. Her mind practically hummed with excitement, as twisted thoughts were coming to fruition. There was little else that could take her now.

Having invested a good deal of her attention to this strange place. To its denizens that suffered a great comical farce of a melodrama..

                           it’d be a crime for her to not see it through.

So now she’d come to the decision it were high-time to take root.

              DEEPLY as a strangling weed to an untended garden.

Hands lift to the sky, filling their palms with the brilliant light, she’d bring the ground at her feet to HEAVE! With a violent shudder as if it were convulsing with a terrible sickness.

              Spewing forth putrid bile..

She’d do just as she pleased.. No matter the effect.

Pulling harder,  fingers gnarled, and bent to twisted knots. Till hands were almost inhuman.

                                        More.

She would taint these lands with her poison..

                 and drag her dominion to it’s surface!

Calling upon her children, to rise from the depths. Seep from the wound of this world, to spill from the unforgiving land of eternal darkness that they resided in wait..

They would build her her spire, a great beautiful eyesore. The likes of which that would mar the world for all who looked upon it!

           They would build it with their own bodies..

He had always been proud of his capacity to destroy. It made him feared. It made him powerful. It made him death itself, but it came at the price of a lack. The King had no powers in which to make things -- he'd relied on the fear, labor, and sacrifices of others for anything such as that.

Boney fingers drummed on the armrest of his throne, his growing menagerie of subjects watching the spectacle as well, but not with near as much calm as himself. Startled gasps run out among their numbers, murmurings, and gawking stares.

It was an impressive piece, but not once did Baraggan entertain it's capture or destruction. She may have built the fortress, but like everything in this land -- every grain of sand and cell of every hollow -- it wasn't hers truly. It was under his sky, in his world.

…

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