Marceline sat on the cold stone of the previous monarch's throne, feeling very uncomfortable and resisting the urge to fidget as her subjects prostrated at her feet. She had lopped off the king's head with her Axe-Bass to avoid all of this. Apparently, the lesser vampires had developed a sort of Stockholm Syndrome towards the late Nosferatu.
She had set up the Ruling Council in his stead and then left to explore the world, returning only once every fifty years to check on the state of the Kingdom. Every time, she had eloquently urged the Council to get the fuck off their feet and start governing, but the end result had been the same every time. They were only just barely able to keep the entire nation together, and even then, they were hard pressed to implement new reforms even in their home provinces. Few things irked Marceline, this was one of them.
She only agreed to claim her throne because there had been reports of the Lich King amassing an army in Eee, to which the vampires' territory was closest to. She had declared her reign over the vampire people and the civil conflict stopped almost immediately, save for some fringe groups maintaining that their candidate was the rightful ruler.
"Get up." She said, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice, "I said, get up!"
The thin vampire bolted straight upright, "I am so sorry for having offended you, my Lady."
"Geez! I'm not your evil overlord, so stop acting like it! So what do you want?"
The vampire looked at the floor, flushing brightly in embarrassment, "I was hoping if I could touch the weapon that had slain Lord Alucard."
Marceline closed her eyes and rolled them. She brandished the musical instrument of war and showed it to him. His eyes bugged in wonder and excitement, and he ran a finger along its smooth surface.
"My Lady, what are these for?" He pointed to the strings and pickups.
"Oh, these? I'll show you."
She floated out of the chair and strummed the strings. They resounded with a deep thrumming sound. The young vampire's eyes grew even wider.
"I'm Marceline the Vampire Queen," She sang, plucking the strings, "and I'll tell you a story of the things that have been."
Alex was slowly getting better at swordplay, managing to hit Fionna at least once. His heart rattled like a machine gun in his chest, adrenalin coursing through his veins. He jumped over Fionna's blade and swung down with his own, catching the young heroine in the shoulder. If she hadn't rolled away and if the sword had been sharp, it would have severed her arm. Instead, it merely grazed her upper arm.
His opponent charged at him from the side. He brought his blade up to counter the incoming blow. It was a feint. Alex felt the blade collide with the back of his knees and he fell down. He rolled away from the sword and grabbed a clump of dirt. He leapt up and tossed it at Fionna. She expected that move, and so she turned her face away. She didn't expect what Alex said, however.
"Dropius like a rockius!"
It was as if someone had placed a heavy weight on Fionna's shoulders, catching her off guard and off balance. Her knees crumpled and she collapsed. He tapped Fionna on the neck with the tip of his sword and killed the spell with a thought. She removed her helmet, revealing luxurious locks of gold hair.
"I didn't know you were practicing magic!" She laughed, "That was awesome dude!"
Fionna jabbed lightly at his shoulder as he helped her up. She grinned, revealing a gap between her two front teeth. Alex returned the jab and offered her a glass of water. Somewhere down the hill, Nika's triumphant cries rang out.
"Yes! I hit the bull's eye! Hey! I hit it again!" She let out a long cheer as she ran up the hillside.
"Yeah!" She held her fists up high, rushing towards the two of them.
She enveloped the two of them in a great big bear hug, laughing merrily with her friends. Alex patted her on the back and picked an apple from a nearby tree.
"Now how about this."
Nika readied her bow and arrow, waiting for Alex to throw it. He tossed it straight into the air and she let loose. The arrow arced gracefully, intersecting the apple at the apex of its trajectory and embedded itself neatly inside a tree trunk.
"Now who done gone shootin' my apples?" Came an elderly voice from the woods.
"Uh oh."
"Now aren't you a sweet boy," the miniature elephant said in a grandmotherly tone, "now c'mon, have another slice."
Alex was about to refuse when he took another whiff of the sweet aroma that filled her home. He relented and took another slice of that marvelous apple pie. It had been years since he had tasted apple pie, and Tree Trunks' pie brought back sweet memories of home. Suddenly, his track of time caught up with him. It had been several months since his arrival here in Ooo, there was no doubt that the police had long given up in their search for the missing band. His face fell.
"What's wrong son?" Tree Trunks asked gently.
"Nothing..." He sadly replied, "Just thinking of home."
"Aw, now you're getting me depressed." Nika buried her face in his shoulder and started sobbing.
Fionna patted them gently.
Princess Bubblegum stroked Finn's hair, which had grown out considerably since he had been checked in to the hospital. He was healing quickly, but he was still too weak to be of any use in defending the kingdom. His most damaged rib and his sword arm were still healing, and there was no doubt that he would need at least a month of recuperation after that.
She sighed.
"Hey Preebos," Finn cracked his eyes open, "sup?"
"We're doing fine, Finn." She said gently, "You go get some sleep."
"It's not like I have much to do anyway." he replied, lifting an arm against his restraints.
"I'm sorry Finn, we had to do it for your own safety."
It was the truth. The doctors were forced to restrain him to prevent him from committing suicide by adventure.
"I know, PB." Finn smiled, "And the sooner I heal, the sooner I can get back to defending you. Not just you I mean..."
"I know what you mean, Finn." She kissed him on the forehead, "Thank you for everything you've done."
"No problem, Peebles. I'd do anything to help."
"Now go to sleep, Finn."
"Good night, Princess."
Finn's eyes closed slowly, a content smile forming on his face.
"How's he, Princess?" Alex asked.
"He's healing well, Alex."
"Hey," he said, "I've been meaning to give him this."
He held up an apple pie from Tree Trunks.
"Oh sure!" The Princess smiled, "He loves apple pie! Just go in, try not to wake him up."
"Will do, ma'am."
They came without warning. An army of undead swarmed the little town of Lamplight, slaughtering everyone and destroying everything inside. By the time Alucard's militia arrived, there was nothing but blood and ash. Marceline arrived a few hours later, having been alerted by messenger. She felt the Lich King's presence in the few undead that were felled.
"We have to do something," She said grimly, "because we're royally fucked."
"Indeed." Alucard said, "What are you planning, Marceline?"
"Call everyone to the council chambers. We have to be there yesterday." She turned towards the one of the Kingdom's greatest Generals. "Marshall! Step up patrols! Equip them with radios if you can spare them. Send our fastest courier to Ooo, we have to warn them!"
She never asked to be a ruler, but the circumstances forced her to be one. She had learned in her extensive travels that if one failed to adapt, they would die a horrible death. She smiled grimly as the people around her snapped into action. At the very least, she would buy her friends some time. Her Humvee rumbled away, the driver pushing the ancient machine to its limits.
Sarah hefted one of Marceline's basses, wishing badly that she hadn't taken that big axe with her. Marceline was one of the most badass women she knew so she was most likely safe inside her Vampire Overlord castle. The bass felt slightly heavy and off-balance. Sarah adjusted the strap until it felt right and plugged it in. It was a well-kept instrument, and the strings let out a beautiful, crisp tone when plucked.
The opening chords echoed into the stadium, followed by a heavy bass and drum beat.
A squadron of B-52 bombers flashed overhead, shepherded by F-16 and F-22 fighters as long streamers of tracer fire arched towards the aircraft. Clouds of flak and missile trails littered the air, mixing with the occasional explosion as some aircraft was hit. One of the BUFFs lost a wing and spiraled away into oblivion.
The bombers opened their bays, revealing row upon row of bombs. The munitions fell towards the ground, blanketing the surface with fire and smoke. Houses, cars, people, they were all torn apart by the concussive blast as the very earth itself seemed to quake in fear.
"Another head hangs lowly. A child is slowly taken." Nika sang, "And the violence caused such silence, who are we mistaken?"
Soldiers marched into the town, escorting row upon row of tanks, and personnel carriers. Apache gunships hovered in the sky above like hawks, tearing apart surviving Iranian Army soldiers with their autocannons. An American Marine spun around and fell to the dirt, a sniper's bullet having caught him in the shoulder. His friends aimed at the threat and riddled the Iranian sniper with so many bullets that he was torn into bloody ribbons.
An antiquated T-72 main battle tank rolled around the corner, its turret tracking towards an M1. Soldiers dove for cover as the Abrams' gun belched fire, spitting a depleted uranium penetrator at the enemy tank. The slug punched through armor and internals, embedding itself inside the engine. The T-72 exploded, the turret sailed several meters through the air and crashed noisily to the ground. Marines shot the surviving crew.
"But you see it's not me, it's not my family. In your head, in your head they are fighting with their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs and their guns. In your head, in your head they are crying!"
A Little Bird chopper touched down on the rooftop, allowing its load of soldiers to disembark. The soldiers blasted the door open and charged inside as the chopper lifted off. An RPG streaked towards the Little Bird and exploded, tearing off the tail rotor in a burst of smoke and flame. The chopper crashed into a building and exploded.
The soldiers gunned down everything they saw as a threat. All but one ignored a crying baby and its mother. One soldier looked around and knelt in front of the mother, placing a nutrient bar in front of her. He stood up and walked off.
"In your head! In your head!" The guitars thrummed and screeched as Nika raised her voice, "Zombie! Zombie! Zombie! What's in your head? Zombie! Zombie! Zombie!"
Iranian army soldiers were joined by those of their allies as they rushed towards the American front. Missiles shot up from the ground or from airplanes and slashed towards American aircraft, only to be led away by countermeasures. The Americans responded with their own volley of missiles, swatting MiG-29s and Tomcats out of the sky with contemptuous ease.
Bombers dropped munitions on hardened bunkers and army depots, blasting them apart with the fury of an angry god. Soldiers and tanks clashed with sporadic bursts of gunfire, peppered by the occasional explosion. Screams of pain and anger flooded communications channels on both sides, drowning up desperate cries for help. Units advanced and retreated, lost numbers, and were destroyed in the ordered chaos of war.
"Another mother's breaking heart is taking over. When the violence causes silence, we must be mistaken."
Mothers hugged their children tight as the world exploded around them. Often times, it did nothing for their survival. Sons and brothers and fathers bade each other farewell, sometimes for the last time. Artillery rockets arched gracefully into the sky, flowers of fire and death blossoming where their trajectories ended. Soldiers weren't soldiers anymore as death rushed to meet them. They broke and ran, only to be caught by the shockwave and be thrown into the air to crumple against concrete and pavement.
Generals surveyed the scenes of carnage with passive expressions from the vantage points offered by surveillance drones. They would be the only ones outside the battle to see it. All camera footage and action reports would be destroyed or placed in secure storage, never to see the light of day.
"It's the same old theme since Nineteen-Sixteen. In your head, in your head, they're still fighting with their tanks! And their bombs! And their bombs, and their guns! In your head, in your head they are dying!"
Soldiers fell and were avenged by their comrades, before they too fell and were avenged. Chaos reigned as surely as fire and smoke filled the air, as surely as the world turns. Buildings collapsed as their abused frames gave under the constant pounding of artillery and bombs. It was as if hell itself had opened on earth.
The sun was beginning to set, shrouding the land in darkness. The night only served to highlight the destruction that was being served. Tracers and explosions glowed brighter than they could in the day. Fires illuminated the grisly scenes of carnage. And despite all this death, neither side retreated. Over the horizon, a star fell from the sky and touched the earth. A new sun blossomed amidst a pillar of fire that reached for the stars.
Nika screamed the last chorus as the instruments faded into the background. Her chest heaved as adrenalin coursed through her veins.
A/N: Longest chapter so far! I enjoyed writing this despite my doubts about the song part. I hope you guys enjoy reading this! Thanks for the reviews, Kuro!