Harper Kingsley blog

Sitting on a fence licking an ice cream cone. The heat of the flames warmed his face and took the dampness out of the air. His eyes were emotionless even as a slight smile curled his lips, giving his beautiful face a sweet appearance.

No one dared to speak to him. He would call on them when he wanted their attention. For now, he was watching the spectacle in front of him.

The burning of the city. The screams of the citizens a music to his ears.

He had thought that revenge would bring him joy, but now he knew that it was an inevitability. There was no reality where those that had harmed him would not taste the flames of his vengeance and rage.

Those that had destroyed his home and murdered his clansmen were now tasting the sweetness of his revenge.

He licked the ice cream, savoring the flavor of cream and spices.

When he was young, he was innocent and trusting. Filled with the joy of life.

Now that he was so old, he had become cold and brutal, forged in the fires of his rage. His memories the only sweetness left to him. The driving force that allowed him to sacrifice so much simply for this moment.

He had entered the military when he was ten years old. Had allowed himself to be forged into a blade for the Empire. And in return the Emperor had given him this moment. The screams. The wails. The blood. The torment. The complete obliteration of an entire city.

And he didn’t think it was a poor exchange.

His mother would be saddened by what he had done, what he had become, but he knew that his father and uncles would understand. When he saw them all in the afterlife, he hoped they would accept what he had become–a monster–and that they would still be able to hug him and kiss him with the same amount of love and affection as they had shown when he was young and pure. Innocent.

He licked a last bit of ice cream, then tossed the cone away before jumping off the fence. He glanced at his bodyguards. "Let’s go."

"Yes, Prince Consort," they chorused, falling in around him.

He had sacrificed the child he once was to become the man he was. And along the way he had caught the eye of the Seventh Prince who would become the Crown Prince. His husband. The man known as the God of War.

All for the sake of vengeance, he had sacrificed everything he used to be. And he didn’t regret it.

Refused to regret it.

What is, is. What could have been is a dream, he thought. A sweet beautiful dream I wish I had never been woken from.

Against a backdrop of flames and destruction, the beautiful Prince Consort walked to the command tent where his husband waited.

He had made his choices. He would not balk at them now.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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P.S. I think the Seventh Prince is a transmigrator. He introduces ice cream and noodles and all kinds of modern things to this old timey fantasy world. And he falls in love with a beautiful orphan and to help the orphan get the revenge he’s so desperate for, in return for a marriage, he becomes known as the God of War and conquers a big chunk of the world.

From the darkness it came, and in the darkness it hid. The beast that had been haunting their town, stealing the young women from their beds with no trace only to leave their bloodless bodies to be found three days later.

The sound of mournful wails had become the music of the village. So many daughters lost. So many families destroyed.

The fog that had rolled in to encompass everything made it seem as though the world itself was showing that the village was cursed. There had been no sun for the last seven months. Everyone’s skin had become pale and wan, the despair seeping into their very beings, stealing the joy from life.

Those that tried to leave the village would find their paths blocked. They would reach the woods surrounding the village and it was as though the trees would move and block the way. Shadows writhing amongst the limbs and branches, rattling the leaves, making ghostly hissing sounds that would build a sense of horror.

The few villagers that tried to force their way through the forest… disappeared. Their screams and wails of pain and fear would be in the night’s wind before trailing into horrifying silence. Telling their families and friends that they were gone forever, likely dead.

Hopefully dead.

Because there were things in the darkness. Frightening things that would come in the night. Rattling windows and doors. Scratching at the wood and bricks. Pulling at the roof thatch until pieces of straw and mud would be scattered on the ground below, warning that something had been on the roof, trying to work its way inside.

There were so many empty houses in the village. So many missing–dead–villagers. The fear of what was happening made the air thick and hard to breathe. The scarce food made them thin and weak. The not-knowingness of it all made everything so much worse.

There had been those that had insisted the village had become the food of vampires, but that had turned out to be wrong. And those foolish enough to put their faith into what was known about vampires had quickly discovered the error of their ways when they met whatever it was lurking in the darkness.

It did not require an invitation to come in.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.

https://ko-fi.com/harperwck.

https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.

Sitting in an empty apartment on New Year’s Eve eating tacos dripping with hot sauce squeezed from branded sauce packets. Only a little inebriated, just enough that the fast food tacos seemed absolutely delicious.

He took a bite and thought of the meme he’d seen before: "Every time I go to Taco Bell I get diarrhea." — "Me personally, I get tacos."

It had made him laugh because he’d never had any trouble with Taco Bell food. The only thing better was when a Taco Bell was inside a KFC. A taco, a piece of chicken, and a cola were the trifecta of satisfaction. Mashed potatoes and gravy and a biscuit only made things that much better.

He was alone but didn’t feel lonely. Not with a box full of tacos to eat and his favorite live-streamer to keep him company.

The year had been a shitty one for nearly everyone he knew, but he had hope for the year ahead. Especially with his new favorite streamer promising to post more.

It was a little thing, but it was a spark of hope. That even if the rest of the world went to hell in a handbasket, there would at least be a bit of fun to look forward to. That human nature would let someone find even the tiniest bit of enthusiasm to hold onto.

The coming year might be horrible or it might be marvelous. Might be like a fast food taco or a gourmet taco. But the sauce would always be delicious.

And if he was lucky, there might be metaphorical fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and maybe a biscuit with honey butter. Because life was always better dripping in hot sauce and with tasty sides to enjoy.

"Happy New Year," he said, and took a big bite of another taco.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.

https://ko-fi.com/harperwck.

https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.

The freedom of the ocean. Drifting and soaring beneath the waves. Hair flowing behind as the mermaid hit top speed, tail flapping in smooth, powerful strokes. Gills drawing in deep even breaths, the oxygenated blood adding power to the humanlike arms that were dragging the mermaid forward through the water.

Escaping. Away.

The sound of the boat’s motor receding into the distance. The humans hopefully to be left far behind.

There was stinging pain where the corded strings of the fisherman’s net had dug into flesh and scales. Fingertips ached from the desperate struggle that had freed the mermaid to drop back into the water below, traumatized and panicked, fleeing with the desperation of someone that refused to be captured again.

The mermaid had been warned about the danger of humans, but it was this experience that hammered the point home.

Humans are dangerous.

The mermaid swam forward with amazing speed, then surfaced briefly to expel the last bit of oxygen from the largely vestigial humanlike lungs before plunging down into the deeps. Welcoming the pressure of the deeper depths that humans and their machines rarely visited. The safety of home. Where humans could not go.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.

https://ko-fi.com/harperwck.

https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.