Chapter 28: Pitch-Black

Darkness. The envoy of all mystery and fear. In any of its many forms, all sorts of vileness can be conducted in peace. No matter the subject, the act, or the scheme. In darkness, all is protected by its cloak.

Through the valley of eternal night, a form of pseudo-light pierced the blackness that suffocated this realm. The only material form was a floating rocky crag with the outlines of a king's throne room on top.

Grey uniformly cut stones made up the floor of the floating island. Similar stone buttresses outlined the edge of where the walls would be and stretched upwards to support the nothing up above. The tall spines of the buttresses resembled that of the bars to a cage. Two large rust speckled iron braziers filled the island with a regal purple light. The flames in the braziers were no bigger than a small match stick's light, yet it produced an immense inferno's worth of heat and light into the chamber.

A dark wood throne chair sat atop a raised chancel between two braziers. The seat featured carvings of flowing spirals coming out of a skull with its cranium split in two. And there sat atop the crown was him. The King.

His thin fingers tapped on the armrest. His crowned head supported by a bent arm. He let out a sigh before yelling into the night world

"SARAMA!" His voice thundered and rolled through the abyssal expanse of the Dark Realm. The ruler's fingers tapped faster and impatiently while waiting for his servant to beckon forth.

Towards where the entrance to the throne room would be, came a glob of green mass oozing up between the cracks in the stone tiles. Once it pooled together it slithered across the floor and stopped before the steps to the chancel. The gelatinous mass rose into a thin column that soon took the form of a feminine figure clad in a thinly weaved sheer robe. Its gauze like fibers failed to conceal much to the eye. The new figure knelt before it's master.

"You called, my Lord?" Spoke the woman with a sly tone. Her eyes glowed in a bright green shimmer.

The king's fingers snapped and the purple lights shifted to a pale blue. Despite the change in light. The flames in the braziers still retained their diminutive size.

"I'm so bored!" the ruler moaned shifting in his seat to where he swung his crossed legs over the left arm of the chair and leaned his back against the right arm. He tilted his head back and hummed a jovial tune.

"Would you wish for me to fetch the gladiators? A gory disembowelment always perks up your mood, my Lord."

"No, No. I've watched the slaves kill each other for millennia now. I wish for something different." He said returning to his previous sitting position. Depression wrapped itself around the ruler's core. In an instant all of his bones seemed to melt under his skin and the King's body liquidated into a gelatinous pool in the seat of his throne.

The servant's face contorted with concern. "My Lord, please pull yourself together. I can't stand to see you like this."

A gurgling sound bubbled from the puddle in the throne.

The servant stood to her feet hunched over in thought. "Hmm…perhaps interfering in the lives of mortals will be the entertainment you seek."

"I guess." The monarch said growing from his limp form back into his more human shape. As he returned into a man, the sounds of sinews, tendons and bones snapped back into existence. It was a sickening sound and to any mortal, it would be absolutely horrendous to watch.

Samara clapped her hands together and from the same doorway she entered, a silver streak slithered its way towards the two. Similar to how the servant woman took her form, the silver streak rose to a column, but then took the shape of a large silvered mirror that floated in mid-air.

The king stood from his throne. He wiped his hand over the surface of the mirror. Creating a scrying portal. The portal scoured across the mortal world until it focused on a small vignette within a humble human village.

"Now how can we improve the lives of these mortal's?" cooed Sarama

The king hummed and paced around his throne. "Oh!" he said pushing the throne aside to return before the portal. "I have a wondrous idea!"

The portal looked down onto a quaint scene inside a log cabin where a grandmother sat in her rocking chair. Quietly knitting a scarf for her sleeping grandchild in the corner of the room. The king pinched the small flame from one of his braziers and plucked the flame away. Like a child ripping the wings off a fly, the King tore a small portion of the flame in half and held it between his bony fingers. He returned the other portion of the flame back to the brazier. The blue flame continued to burn away from its fuel source. He closed one eye to line up the perfect shot. In one flick, the flame transported through the portal and landed into the cozy fireplace.

All of a sudden, the fireplace erupted into a massive blaze. The grandmother jumped to life. She screamed as the wall of blue flames danced out of the hearth catching anything the flames touched became alit. Thick smoke grandchild cried as the grandmother desperately tried to douse the flame with a basin. But when the water reached the base of the flame, the blazed only burned brighter. Smoke engulfed the room. The old woman choked as smoke filled her lungs. Seeing how futile it was to quell the blaze, she chose to abandon the cabin tried to rescue the screaming babe.

The child wailed from the intense heat. The two human's skin began to burn and darken. The grandmother tugged with all her might at the door, but it wouldn't budge. Nothing. As a last resort, the woman prayed to the pantheon of every god who's name she knew. Begging them all to save her grandchild from such a fate. But an intervention never came.

Outside the cabin, a steady stream of gentle white smoke with a slight pink hue bellowed from the chimney. No signs of the blaze could be seen, smelled, or heard. Not even the panicked cries of help from inside were heard. Within minutes everything in the room was reduced to char or ash. The blackened remains of a woman could be seen trying to shield an infant from the flames.

The two onlookers reveled in the chaos and death they witnessed. The King's mood had shifted from a mopey mess to a bright devious smile.

"Your turn!" Laughed the king

The two took turns casting spells into the mirror. this game continued for hours. Across the mortal realm, they unleashed chaos. Merely for the sake of relieving the king's boredom. It didn't matter who or what they tormented. If it breathed or could be broken. It had the potential of having pain caused to it. Inciting violence, creating demonic abominations to wreak havoc, and to

"There! Beat that!" Boasted the king. Watching a knight flail his sword around mercilessly into the center of a busy marketplace. Slaying grotesque visions that plagued his mind and butchering the local populace.

"I think I have the perfect toy to play with." Grinned the servant. Sarama opened her hand. From her hand a mass of black slime grew and took the shape of an evil looking knife. "This will cure your boredom for years to come, my Lord." She said grabbing the knife by the blade and tossing it through the portal.

The monarch crossed his arms like a pouting child "And how exactly will knife solve this dreadful boredom?"

"Just watch."