Ch.6

Absolute chaos erupted in the ballroom.

The second Frederick made a move towards his brother, a fear-charged pandemonium unleashed itself onto the entire crowd; Their once gleeful squeals turned into shrill shrieks that even caused the people outside to look up at the castle with a sense of unnerving. Back in the tumultuous dance hall, the sea of people began to pour out of the ballroom, desperately trying to get away from the thing in the room; The trampled cries of the clumsy rang out through the hall like a hellish church choir. A quarter of the crowd, mainly made up of Lance's combat class peers, came to the aid of the grey haired prince. They swarmed the space between the two brothers; Frederick felt himself being pulled away on a sea of hands that descended into a thunderous smashing of fists and boots. Frederick screamed over the chaos as the boys tried to pin him to the ground. "STOP! STOP! PLEASE! ITS ME! FREDERICK, STOP IT! I'M NOT A MONSTER! IT'S ME!" But his pleas fell on deaf ears as he curled up into a ball trying to protect himself from the vicious assault. Then he heard the main doors swing open and the thundering stamp of boots from the Plaid kingdom's royal guards; The metallic clang of their swords and spears tolled for command. The men yelled at the boys to remove themselves and they obeyed, leaving the battered skinless boy in the middle of a quickly developing circle of soldiers. The young boy rose from the floor as best he could, his bruised arms shakily holding him upright. He saw a pair of shining black boots approaching him. Frederick looked up and recognized him as his combative teacher, Captain Vince, who also led the royal guard. Hope blossomed in him as he smiled and said, "Captain Vince! It's me, Frederick! Please, tell them it's me. This is all-" In a flash the man kicked the boy square in the chest, knocking him on his back; A disgusted sneer plastered on his face. On the ground, Frederick coughed and choked as his combat teacher towered over him; His sword raised high and his face contorted in anger. "DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO DECEIVE ME, YOU WRETCHED BEAST!" Frederick shut his eyes tight, anticipating the blow when suddenly a booming voice called out. "WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!" They both recognized the voice of the king. Captain Vince bowed respectfully as Frederick tried desperately to keep his mind in the moment; Edges of blackness were already creeping from the corners of his eyes. Through his increasingly blurry vision, he sees the out of focus image of his father looking down at him and Captain Vince speaking to him but a high pitched whine in his ears muffled their speech. What's happening? Did they hit me that hard? Can you go deaf from

being hit too hard? Then Captain Vince goes up to him again; White flashes before his eyes before everything went dark.

When Frederick awoke, he hissed at a horrible ache pounding in his skull and a sharp pain in his wrists. Ugghhhh….What did I do last night? My head hurts and I'm freezing my ass off. The last thing I remember was having that nightmare where I lost my- When he opened his eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat. He was in the palace dungeon; His hands were chained to the cold stone wall by one medium length thick iron chain that was connected to a metal loop that was bolted to the wall. When he looked down at himself, he saw his bright red exposed body quivering from the damp chill of the sordid prison; His bare feet curled up instinctively due to the icy stone floor. He stayed silent for a while as his brain processed the grim reality of the situation; It came to a solution after a few seconds. "HEY! HEY! THIS IS ALL A BIG MISTAKE! I'M NOT A MONSTER! PLEASE, LET ME OUT!" he cried as he stood and tried to yank the chain off of him. But he stopped after a wave of dizziness knocked him off his feet. He tried to fight it and stand up but his legs wobbled and gave way. Whoa...I don't feel so good. Why is everything spinning? What's happening? Then he heard his stomach growl loudly, accompanied by a sharp pang that made him groan. Oh, that's right. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. I'm starving. Damn it, why didn't I eat at the party when I had the chance. Oh, of course I didn't, because I didn't know I was going to be thrown in a dark stinky dungeon. When his stomach growled again, he grimaced as he felt the acid burn his sides; He looked down to his midsection and saw that he could make out the faint outline of his stomach, and a few other organs, pulsing under a layer of muscle. Frederick gave a soft whimper of terror at the sight. Oh my God…..This can't be happening….Mom was right, I'm a Boo-Hag….But how? Boo hags are female. Can a boo hag be a man? Why is this happening now? What- He grimaced as another hunger pang made his stomach convulse. It really hurts….I'm so hungry…. I need to find some food. But where? He looked around to see if anyone left him something. A piece of bread, anything. But the dungeon was bare, except for some cobwebs and some moss growing from the stones. Then his ears picked up the sound of scraping followed by a squeak. He looked over to his right and saw a large rat scurrying along the side of the walls. His stomach growled again as he turned away in disgust. No. No. No. I'm not that desperate. There is no way- The small mammal stopped and started sniffing around; Slowing making its way over to the hungry boy.

He felt something come over him that made everything seem clear.

His dizziness was gone, along with the weakness. His eyes were staring at the approaching rat, studying its every move. The closer the rat came, the more he could see its soft chestnut brown fur and small pinky nail-sized ears; A pleasing savory smell emanated from its fur. It smells so good. Like a fresh cooked steak. I'm so hungry. I need to eat. Frederick began to clench and unclench his hands, unconsciously. He licked his lips as the rat got closer. He could hear its tiny heart racing in its fragile rib cage. Frederick's mouth watered as the furry creature was about three inches from him. Then without even a second thought, Frederick's hands shot out and grabbed the furry creature; The chains thankfully gave him enough slack to do so. The small mammal only had time to squeak once before its head was bit off by the famished boy. Frederick devoured it greedily; Crushing the small bones between his teeth and licking his hands as warm blood flowed down like the juices of a ripe strawberry. The cacophony of shattering bones and slurping filled the cell.

Mmmh.

He felt himself smile as he rolled the rat's guts around with his tongue, savoring the sweet and salty taste of its entrails. When he swallowed the last bite, the euphoria fell away like a theater curtain. Did I just…

He covered his mouth as he felt himself gag in disgust. He tightened his throat as he fought the urge to throw up. Don't you dare. That's probably going to be the only meal your going to have right now. At least for awhile. Then he heard a door open with a heavy creak; Along with heavy footsteps. Frederick stood up, wiping the bloody remains from his mouth as best he could. The footsteps came and stopped at his prison door, followed by the jangling of keys. Then the lock clicked and the heavy wooden door opened. His father stood in the dim torch light of the prison walkway; The flames of the torches threw shadows that seemed to bond with his king's face, further darkening his grim expression. Frederick allowed himself to feel relief as he saw a familiar face. "Dad! I'm so glad you're here! Everyone out there thinks I'm some kind of monster. I know I look really… off. But it's really me dad! I'm your son, Frederick!"

The king was silent.

Frederick felt a cold pit of dread in his guts.

"Dad, you know it's me….right?" he asked, his voice shaking, nervously.

The king stepped closer to Frederick, his eyes were cold and observing orbs that starred at with intense curiosity and...something else. He grabbed Frederick's chin and began turning it over in his hand, studying every nuance of his face. Frederick waited for his response with bated breath. Finally after a few minutes, the king backed away and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God."

"Huh!?"

This was not the answer he was expecting. The king placed his hand behind his back and casually leaned against the wall. "For sixteen years, I've always wondered why you turned out the way you did. Spineless, weak, a complete disappointment. I thought it was my fault for a while, that's why out of both your brothers, I was the hardest on you. I figured I needed to take extra care in ridding you of your feebleness, so you could be a true man. Now, I see that it wasn't my fault for how you turned out. It was your filthy genes."

A familiar heat burned inside Frederick's chest like a furnace.

"I don't know how and I don't know why. But somehow one of those disgusting creatures from that horrid island must have infiltrated the castle, took advantage of your mother, and stuck us with their vile hellspawn. I should have known you weren't mine the minute you came out. You had my looks and you seemed to be normal, but when the doctors told me that you're constitution was weaker than that of the average child, my first thought was "He can't be mine, no child of mine would be a defective little worm." But now that I see you for who you really are, A disgusting imitation of a man, a failure of a human being, a thing that's both monstrous inside and out, I can finally be at peace knowing that I could never give birth to something so abominable.``

Every word that the king said was hitting him hard; Each one felt like a burning arrow singing his heart, charring away the callous that he had worked so hard to build over the years, and searing the tender flesh under it. This was hurt on a whole other level; The last of the cold unfeeling numbness that had protected the teen for all these years melted away to reveal a volatile and powerful wrath

that begged to be released on the old fool. Then the king reached to the side of his belt and pulled out Frederick's skin along with some simple clothes. He tossed them to him. "Put these on. Even though you're a beast, I can't have your grotesque body making the executioner ill for tomorrow's burning."

That did it.

Frederick's rage finally exploded in the form of a fierce and powerful roar that bursted from his lips. He jumped up and launched himself at his father, aiming to tear the king into ribbons. But the chains stopped his charge just about an inch from the ruler's face, the latter's mouth splitting into a smug smirk. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!" Frederick yelled as the king just watched, still smirking. Then he walked out of the cell as his son continued to holler, and struggle against his bonds; His fury grew into such a frenzy, his voice came out as a distorted animalistic screeching. The dungeon echoed with the livid song of the forsaken prince. Its raw harshness was made even more powerful by the anguished sobbing that mixed in with the screams.

Meanwhile, in the upstairs hallway, both Blaine and Lance waited for their father to return from the dungeon. Blaine was leaning against the wall on his left foot, the appendage twitching up and down, nervously. Lance paced in front of the dull iron door to the prison, wringing his hands. When the boys heard the heavy rasp of the door, they turned to see their father exiting the darkness; A bone chilling bay followed him before he cut it off by promptly shutting the entrance. The brothers bombarded their dad with questions,

"What happened?"

"What's wrong with Frederick?"

"Is he going to be ok?"

"Can we help him?"

"Is he cursed"

"Who did it?"

"BOYS!"

The two young men clamp their mouths shut. The king gives his sons a solom gaze.

"I'm sorry, boys, but your brother, Frederick, is dead. That thing took his skin and only pretended to be him."

Lance's eyes widened in horror and disbelief. Blaine took on the same expression as he covered his mouth and averted his eyes. "No that's not true! That's Frederick. He needs us." Lance says as he tries to push past his father to get to the door. The king firmly stands in front of it. "Lance, you can't-" he starts to say but Lance tries to push him aside, extending his hand to the bolt.

"I wanna see him."

"Lance that's not-"

"I wanna see my brother."

"Lance, please-"

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" he yells as he puts more effort in to pushing his dad aside,"That's enough!" the king yells, pushing his son back with all his strength. The middle brother is knocked off balance and starts to stumble backwards, but quickly regains it. "That monstrosity is not your brother! It's a bloodthirsty freak that would kill you where you stand! Your brother is dead! His body is rotting god knows where in the woods! That's the harsh truth Lance that your going to have to

accept!" Lance stood their enraged, tears streaming down his face. "You better not be crying for that thing. Save those tears for the funeral." Blaine, who stood there in stunned silence, trying not to cry himself, walked toward his brother extending a comforting hand to his shoulder. Lance roughly turned away and stomped off. "Lance, wait!" Blaine calle out, starting to follow his brother. "Let him go. He needs to blow off some steam." The king says as he waves his hand dismissivly. He walks away to his room as he says. "You should get some rest too. I have something very important I need to discuss with you tomorrow morning." Blaine nods numbly as he is left alone in the hall.

Back in the dungeon, Frederick is slumped against the cold stone wall, both physically and emotionally drained. His throat is raw and sore from all the screaming, his head aches, and his face is damp with tears. So this is it, huh. I'm going to die in a few hours. He held up his skinless hand to eye level. He took in the layers of thin fibers that made up the muscles of his hand; How the miniscule fibers gently pulsed up and down from the blood running through his veins. He saw that at the ends of his fingers, raw muscle gave way to clean white phalanges. When he tapped them to the stone floor they made a resounding click. Huh, these are actually pretty strong. Now that I think about it, my body doesn't feel as sore as it should be. I actually feel… good. Frederick inspected the rest of his body and found this to be true. During the ballroom brawl, he practically felt the bruises and knots beginning to blossom all over him. But now, he felt better than ever; When looked over, not even the faintest hint of bruise could be seen on his bare body.

His damage had been healed in the span of three hours.

This is amazing! I don't feel hurt at all. In fact…. He ran his hand over his shoulders and arms. He lets out a gasp of delight at the slight toughness of his muscles. Oh my God. This is fucking awesome! What else can I do? Does this mean I'm super strong? It could have happened because my muscles took the damage directly, but how did they heal so fast? I wanna…..know more. It was like a fog had lifted; His mind was clear.

Fuck everything. I'm getting out of here.

He scanned his chains, trying to find a chink or any kind of flaw in its design. While the chain itself was pretty sturdy, the hook it was looped around was old and rusty; In fact, it had been greatly loosened by his freak out hours earlier. He stood up and walked until the chain held him back. Then he allowed his body to fall forward, the chain just about stopping him from hitting the floor. With the combined force of his full weight and gravity, the hook snaps from the wall; Frederick fell to the hard floor and hissed at the pain. He remains silent, hoping that the guards wouldn't come in to investigate. He only hears a small shuffle and a lackluster knock. "Hey, keep it down in there!" said a groggy voice from the other side. Frederick scans the chains around his wrists as he hears the other guard scold the groggy one. He's about to give them a good tug, but stops when a better idea comes to mind.

Out in the prison hall:

"Harry, no sleeping on the job."

"C'mon, I'm just resting my eyes."

"Quit goofing around. We-"

Suddenly, a strange noise interrupts their conversation. "The hell is that?" asked the guard as he placed his ear to the door. It took him a few seconds to comprehend the sound as choking. "Oh, shit!

The things trying to punch its own ticket!" The guard fumbled for his keys as the choking sounds were followed by heavy thuds. When they found the correct key, the two men kicked the door in and entered the room.

To find it empty.

Harry, still out of sorts, scratches his head in confusion. "What the-"

His voice is replaced by gasps of air as a thick chain tightens around his throat. The alert guard snapped his head towards his partner and saw the fake prince strangling the middle age man with his own chain. The monster had put his disguise back on and some simple clothes; He looked like Prince Frederick, but he knew that it was all part of the trick. The suffocating guard aches his back and gropes upwards to scratch his attacker, trying to get him to lose his grip. But Frederick held on as he tried to avoid the man's hands. Harry is able to lurch his body to the left, exposing the creature's back to his comrade. The alert man takes the chance to whip out his sword and charges to stab Frederick with a loud cry. For the fighting prince, time slows down as he instinctively turns to face the charging guard, dragging Harry to the front. The other guard is moving too fast to stop himself from driving his sword into Harry's stomach. His eyes widen as his partner utters a startled gurgle and a dark spot blooms on his uniform. The other guard is too shocked by the accidental stabbing to see the young man's fist smash his face, cracking his nose. The alert guard stumbles back holding his bleeding nose. He steps up and wildly swings at Frederick; His vision swam as he hoped at least one punch landed on the prisoner. Frederick dodges the erratic swings, rears his chain back and swung it at the guards skull. It makes a satisfying fleshy thud and the guard crumples to the ground. Frederick stands in stunned silence, taking in the bloody scene. Oh, shit on tits…..That…. didn't go the way I thought it would. His eyes go over to the guard lying dead in a pool of blood, then over to the knocked out guard; The ring of keys hangs from his belt loop.

No turning back now.

He snatches the keys off, unlocks his chains, and exits the room; Leaving everything in his prison cell. When he steps out into the prison hallway, he is surprised to find no one else here. Huh, dad only sent two men to guard me. I feel like I should be insulted, but I'm just going to take it. To his left were a few rows of cells and at the end of it was the staircase that led back to the main hall of the castle. Can't go there. To the right, was a longer stretch of cells that curved to the left. Father says that the prison has two ways to get in. The second entrance must be this way. So he made his way down the right until he came to the left bend. When he looked down the new hall, he saw that it ended in a guardsmen station, made up out of a battered table and a few stools. A few bottles scattered on the floor showed that a few of the guards decided to let loose. Past the station, was the door that led outside; The palish blue moonlight shone through the tiny barred window at the top. Frederick walked past the station, careful not to bump into any of the furniture for fear of alarming everyone. Just when he reached the door, he froze when he heard voices come from the other side.

Shit!

He ducked down, heart racing. Don't come in. Don't come in. Don't come in.

After a few minutes of nothing, Frederick worked up enough courage to peek through the tiny window. No one was in front of the door. So he carefully opened the door as quietly as he could, until he made a slit wide enough to squeeze through. Frederick's damp skin was cooled by the cool night breeze. The half moon shone dimly on the field that stretched out into the woods. That's my

way out! I just need to get to the enchanted woods and then I'm home free. Then he heard the voices again. The door he snuck out of was part of a wall that jutted outwards, creating a small blind spot for him. The voices were coming from behind the wall. When Frederick peaked around the corner, he saw a total of eight guards on the side of the building away from the door, but still close enough to see him if he made a run for it. They looked like they were trying to get their torches lit and a lot of them were complaining about how dark it was. Wait, if they can't see, then how the fuck am I able to see them? I can even see the family crest on their uniforms- Hold on, I can see in the dark!? Gah, no time for curiosity. I have to get them farther away. So I can vanish without them seeing me. Frederick felt his bare foot touch something cold and hard.

A bottle. That'll work.

He picks it up and peaks his head out from the side of the wall. I just need to throw it far enough to buy me some time. He rears the bottle back and chucks it with all his strength. It flies over the guards heads and lands with a crash. Alerted by the sudden sound the guards head towards the direction of the noise. They didn't even see the escaped prince run from the prison and disappear into the shadowy tree line.

Back in the dungeon:

Another guard is making his way towards the monster's cell to take over for the midnight shift. He sees that the door to the prison is opened and quickly makes his way into the cell. Only to back out of the room, with horror filled eyes; His shaky legs buckle under him as he takes in the carnal scene.

Frederick bends over panting heavily, almost hyperventilating; His bare feet stung from being ravaged by sharp tree branches. He has no idea how far he has run but he knows that he can no longer see the castle looming over him and that was good. Now that he had stopped, the full weight of the day crashed upon him like a wave. The dizziness returned with a vengeance; Everything in his line of sight wobbled and warped itself into strange shapes. He fell to the ground, sweat and water from the dungeon made his body shake violently. Sleep…. I need to sleep. He crawled over to some bushes and curled up behind one of the largest ones, not even caring about the lack of blankets or the hard cold ground beneath him. Within minutes, he is asleep.

Unbeknownst to the slumbering boy, a tall hooded figure approaches the fugitive's resting form. The figure cocks their head, quizzically at the sight. "What's a kid doing here?"