IMAGINE LIVING LIKE A KING SOMEDAY

THANK YOU SEREN ♥


The serpentine wraith had been a mere bystander to the macabre battles that had been waged upon the battlefield, observing with intense fervor as the titans clashed and splattered their arenas crimson for the sole purpose of obtaining or maintaining authority. Greed had struck their cores, had mutilated their senses until power had become their top priority even above their own well-being, but the ice queen was no stranger to such a carnal desire and would not have hesitated to endanger her own life had she been in either of their positions. Having had a taste of superiority before, Morphine was at its mercy, allowing it to warp her diseased mind and the mannerisms by which she functioned so that her sole desires revolved around it. If all went according to plan, soon enough it would be the pallid fiend in the place of the black snake who fought so valiantly against the merciless jaws of a behemoth ? all to seize power. But, for the time being, the white witch was content with portraying a loyal militant to whomever that could manage to exhume enough dominance to entice her ? and that had been the victorious imp of a woman who had stolen the Amenti crown.


A devious smirk wrapped about her immaculate countenance at the conclusion of the battle and as the gargantuan queen collapsed to the ground in defeat, metallic eyes flashing with intrigue as she awaited the victor?s speech and the crowd?s reactions. She made no notion of slaughtering the fallen ruler ? so vulnerable with a lack of consciousness ? and instead offered her and the remainder of Amenti a place to stay should they see it fit. The wraith need not have known the dethroned and her family to reach the conclusion that the new queen?s offer would be rejected out of spite just as she had dismissed Desdemona?s rule, and perhaps the snake was more than aware that her efforts would be futile for she immediately fled the premises of the battlefield without waiting for the final outcome of her comrade?s match or word from anyone. Giving a final glance to the fallen queen and her husband, still locked in combat with the russet female, the pallid babe heaved her mass upon all fours and sauntered after the rising queen.


Once the snarls and growls emanating from the battlefield faded into oblivion, Morphine quickened her pace, maintaining a slight speed until she was within earshot of the serpentine wench. Wait! she demanded, slowing as she neared the object of pursuit.