“Love and passion are only worthwhile if pain is part of the process. If something is gained easily, what is the reason for gaining it?” His form is split between man and butterfly, he is a conductor now, raising his hands up and down as he sets the stage.

  Vukosava cries in horror. Her mind racing for a solution.

  He’s trying to pull Amber closer to him, but she’s fighting and screaming for all that she’s worth.

  She’s always been there for others, even if they didn’t see it. Always spoke with a soft voice for the betterment of those around her. Vukosava’s blood is starting to boil with emotion.

  Before they were friends, Amber didn’t venture beyond her life at home. She didn’t participate much, she was a caterpilr that required food and attention to grow and learn, and she pursued love because it felt like a delicate butterfly, finding flight for the first time. She wanted to find strength in herself, to stand in front of a camera and express a part of herself, to have it captured for the world to see. To make a decration that she could move forwards with courage and dedication. Marcus is the one who stood behind the camera, capturing that moment. Now, he lies dead, their great moment taken and perverted by this parasite. It’s not fear that fills her heart now, it’s rage.

  John and Harley were caught in transit. The canvas born from Marcus' blood stops momentarily.

  It seems the Prince is done with them, Amber is continuing to fight him, the hunger in his eyes is gone. “Dogs, you have my permission to finish them off.”

  Vukosava curses, her hand locking around her family’s good luck charm.

  She can hear the triumphant howls starting to echo through the hallway leading to the dungeon, the dogs are finally going to get their meal.

  “Marcus!” Amber screams, reaching out for him.

  “Let. Her. Go.” Vukosava growls through clenched teeth.

  The prince completely ignores Vukosava, going on his way.

  No, she won’t let that happen. She runs through the blood, taking the hoof print from her neck and brandishing it like a sword. The silver glimmers brightly, she plunges it into the form of the Prince, he doesn’t pay her any mind, there’s no way such weak prey could ever pose a threat to him. His form contorts into those bck butterflies, and immediately they start to blister and burn away. They fly away in pain, a fire traveling within the swarm. It’s just enough time for Amber to break free and crawl away.

  The Prince reforms, the burns appearing on his pale skin. “Wait, fair dy. How did you?”

  His expression changes as he looks at Vukosava’s makeshift shiv, and there’s a new hunger on his face. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

  “Guys. There’s a room to the left of the dungeon. Barricade yourselves in!” Vukosava screams at them.

  “What? We can’t do that!”

  “You have to!” Vukosava commands harshly. “If you don’t, we’ll all be dead.”

  “It seems I have a new dy that interests me. The st flower has already wilted.”

  Vukosava starts to run at a full sprint. There’s one pce she needs to reach, where the story of the Eternal Prince and the Red Queen started. His workshop where the family and friends of Fodor Dresk hanging from the ceiling. The outline from the old painting still marks the stone wall, his workbench is disorderly. A rusty chain lies on the floor which she snatches immediately.

  “You bring me back to a memory. What are you pnning to do now?”

  “I know the one thing that you fear most.” Vukosava holds out the good luck charm in one hand and the chain in the other. Her threat doesn’t remain idle, with no other options, she rips the sharp end of the charm across her palm, adrenaline is pumping through her veins so fast that she barely feels it. She strikes the chain hard against the ground, chipping away at the rust until a single solitary spark flies.

  It goes out instantly.

  The prince rushes forward, he’s not going to give her time to try again. She backs up to the wall, cutting off his angle just enough to ram the hoof print against it. The sparks fly, and with those embers burning into her hand. She pnts the chain, blood and fire into the wall, screaming with desperation. “Catherine Mallory. The Red Queen, I call upon thee! To exact vengeance on the depraved and wicked – to cast their whims and wishes into your fire of passion!”

  For a moment, nothing happens. Vukosava can feel hope beginning to die away. Her blood seeps down and suddenly it stops falling down. The room starts to darken. A serene face appears on the wall where the blood gathers, a beautiful and powerful entity. It’s completely intoxicating. The prince recoils instantly, there is absolute terror on his face. Where the painting formerly y, the Red Queen opens her crimson-bck wings. Her dress sparkles brilliantly, woven from different shades of red. Dark and bright, full of yers and complexities. Her eyes open, shining with passionate hate.

  “Your end is surely named.”

  Her voice is smooth and velvety, rich and full of effortless elegance. It cracks at the end, and she raises her delicate hand. “You wished to cim bliss once more; you will find yourself wanting.”

  “No. Not her, anyone but her.” The prince cries out.

  The dogs were barking for their prey. Their joyous tone gets closer and closer as they py with their food. They couldn’t tell that what they’re chasing is leading them right into the arms of the Red Queen. She doesn’t even wait to make a formal introduction to the beastly men. They grind to a halt, stopping by the side of the Eternal Prince. From her hand spawns an all-consuming mass of obsidian chains and burning blood. There is nothing that the dogs can do.

  They sink to their knees, screaming out in pain. The chains run them through, twisting and grinding their guts into ribbons, bursting out of them, shattering bones as they splinter away from the original chains. Then their bodies burn horrifically from the inside, their bones turning dark and their skin and fur becoming translucent as they explode one by one.

  “There is no escape for you, prince. Only death and damnation.” The Red Queen promises. He tries to flee, transforming into a swarm of butterflies. “You will suffer – a lot.”

  “Your infatuation has always been disgusting.” Each of the butterflies twist and burn as they crash into the ground. The prince is gasping for breath, his entire body from head to toe alight with third-degree burns. “You must go, child, they need you.”

  Vukosava runs from the room, the st image imprinted into her mind being of the Red Queen standing over the Eternal Prince. Catherine Mallory returns to the world of life, and her revenge is full of love and terror. Vukosava remembers the accounts that refer to her as a love goddess, a pixie with power that reaches into something else entirely. Passion, love, anything with emotion and dedication combusts around her. As she goes to join her friends, the prince screams in pain, so loud that she thought her ears were bleeding.

  Amber, Harley and John remain, pressing themselves against the door. Vukosava calls out to them. “Guys! Guys! It’s done!”

  “How the hell are you still alive?” Harley asks, her voice hoarse.

  “I summoned something that the bastard couldn’t fight. The Red Queen.”

  John opens the door. Amber is shaking, her face bright with tears. The rest of the survivors' stare at her, with sullen, empty expressions.

  They all look close to death themselves. Vukosava whispers. “Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing else we can do.”

  “Is Marcus okay?” Amber is pleading with her. “Is he?”

  “Amber.” Vukosava says gently.

  “No. No. No! He can’t be dead. He just can’t.”

  John inclines his head towards Vukosava. “Take the lead.”

  Supporting each other, they stumble out of the Eternal Castle. A gothic nightmare that Vukosava couldn’t believe is real. But there is one final twist to the horrific night.

  Folklore Files:

  The Dogmen of Malice

  “We’re a company that fights for the righteous.” Captain Rath is the leader of the dogmen, a ruthless and twisted man with sick fantasies and desires. That sought to disguise his hideous nature by belling his band of soldiers and bdes-for-hire, as ‘The Righteous Company’. His men were much the same, ruled by a lust of power and the luxuries of life – they hid their true intentions for years. Sir Victor Alberius, convinced by their outside persona, joined them. During the Usurper’s War, that went from 630 to 640, they were loyal to the King and Queen of Avaron, fighting against Lord Harald Vestris and his family. However, the leader of the dogmen sought to benefit from the conflict and betrayed the royal line – killing them and presenting the throne of Avaron to the Usurper Harald Vestris. Sir Victor Alberius was forever cursed by this act of betrayal. Despite the grievances that the new King had with them, he decided that he would allow them to live. A decision he would ter come to regret.

  They would serve Prince Zar’va Vestris, always seeking to benefit and curry favor with whomever could satisfy their desires. After helping the heir of Avaron, the mercenaries were gathered up and sentenced to a horrific death – starved, cooked in their armour and brutally ripped apart for their part in the death of Fodor Dresk. With the passage of time, they would return as beasts, a sickening mix between a neanderthal and bck, feral dogs. They are starving beasts that are never satisfied.