Chapter 1: Southern Point
As he entered the lair of the Dragon, his gut filled with dread and his vision blurred by flashes of jittery nerves, the Dragon, master of the cavern , slithered and slided to his side, face filled with glistening scales. The Prince saw a reflection of himself on the scales, and it told him just how terrified he really was, his face bunched up like a shivering fist.
“So you came to obtain the “Colour”. “, hissed the Dragon of the Southern Point. “You think it would be easy, that you would kill me with your embellished sword and the blind courage of a knight. Then my friend, you are wrong. To get the “Colour”, you would have to let me devour you, that is the only way.”
“And why would I be so stupid to believe you?”, quibbed the Prince.
“Because there is no other way to save her. “
So there was no battle, the Prince dropped his weapons, a sword and shield encrusted with the blood of the generations before him, all of which were eager to tell the tale of another victory. The Dragon of the Southern Point swerved and sank his sharp fangs into the Prince’s stomach, and threw him across on a stone slab, laying him down like dinner on a plate. The Prince could only look helplessly as blood bulbed like red rubies on his open wounds. He found himself searching for memories of his life lived before this moment, as his midsection became slowly untangled and devoured. His hands grabbed and reached out frantically for something to hold on to as he tried to push himself away from his own tormented body, his heart slowed down by the burden of sudden regret for not having woken up the Princess from her deep sleep as he slowly drifted into his own.
Chapter 2: Two Weeks
“It’s been 2 weeks since you were last alive. Welcome back. “
A Stallion of tremendous presence was pacing back and forth in front of the Prince. There was something majestic about it, its dark blue mane carried the wonders of an Arabian Night, catching the moonlight from a dozen different directions.
“Why am I here, and why am I talking to a horse? Am I in Heaven?”, said the Prince as he tried to wipe his eyes wearily.
“I am the Dragon, and by devouring you, you have passed the test and obtained the “Colour”. I will now help you in which ever form you require me to be, we will go and claim your loved one. It’s time to set off for for Veckatimest.”
As tired as he was after his journey back to the living, the Prince climbed onto the back of the muscular stallion, and as they rode against the mist of the mysterious night, he felt the wind sending whispers of excitement as they forged ahead into an adventure that was not written in the books.
Chapter 3: All We Ask but Fine for Now.
She had a dream, a dream where she was standing on a patch of lovely garden flowers before an empty playground and childless swings filled with promises of joy and contentment. She propped herself on a swing, grabbed the ropes with a gentle rose grip, and tried to propel herself to greater heights. She swung higher and higher each time, seemingly trying to break through an invisible barrier. This time, this time I’m gonna make it, she told herself as she pulled back as much as she could and pushed herself up with all the strength she had. She flew higher than she had ever done before, and just as she thought she was beginning to see what lies beyond the mountains ahead, her vision blurred and wavered and vanished into a painting, and the skies above turned into sea. She was deep underwater, and no matter how high she swung, she was never going to break through the surface of the the water.
I can’t get out…. of what I’m into without you.
And then there was only time…. so much time….
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After a week of endless journey, the Prince and his Stallion finally arrived at Veckatimest, the place where characters from fairy tales go to die, those who didn’t deserved their “happily ever afters”.
“This is nothing but a giant graveyard, nothing to see, nothing to hear. Let’s make this a quick one.”, said the Stallion.
Just as he finished the sentence, the trees cleared and beams of brightly coloured rays flashed at the speed of light towards the Prince. Sunlight bounced off vapours that surrounds a small charming little village, forming a mesmeric bubble of flourishing colours.
As beautiful as it was, the Prince was aware of the danger lurking beneath the vision of such aggressive beauty.
“You do know this is the place where the villians are rested, all the witches, evil stepmothers, sisters and the big bad wolves. You’re fine for now. But keep your arse where I can see it.”, complained the Stallion, seemingly offended by the violent burst of colours.
The Prince nodded silently, and treaded forwarded with the Stallion. As they pierced through the soft shiny bubble, all the beauty of the charming little village faded into nothing but a distant rumour. The colours tore and smeared as they slowly disappeared into a dull cloud of grey and black warnings. As he watched the last bits of green dripped off the tip of a dying tree, the Prince realized that Veckatimest was a cursed land; it was the devil’s sad joke. His heart began to fill with dread, the cold wet feeling chasing him from behind like a shadow he could not shake off. All he could do was to continue to move ahead while swearing at his own sudden sobriety.
Chapter 4: Cheerleader
”Dude, your underwear stinks. “
The Prince had been hopelessly lost amidst the heathened lands of Veckatimest for the past couple of weeks, even the Stallion was nowhere to be found. In his long, moody journey alone, the Prince witnessed nary a ray of Sunshine, and wherever he went, he was accompanied by gusts of ashened wind, the ash that clothed his face, lingered on his eye lashes and those that settled snuggly in his lungs. There was no food, but in it’s place were sudden black holes which he could fall in and break his spine, flaming arrows that could pierce his heart and set it in flames should he be any less careful. Whatever hunger pangs he felt, it was fed with the probabilities of constant peril.
That was why he was so taken aback when a courageously handsome young men stood before his eyes, fretting about the odour that was emanating from his underpants.
There was something superfluous about his beauty; his face was rosy and youthful, his jaw was chiselled and well-shaven, his eyebrows were freshly plucked and carefully arched to bring out his other features. His precious little face was adorned by wavy and twirly soft hair spurned out of wealthy gold and looked like it could have even tasted sweet. He stood before the Prince with a remarkably fine posture, an exaggerated sense of self and an almost cinematic presence amidst the dying lands of Veckatimest.
“Who are you?”, asked the Prince.
”I, am nothing but your wildly dashing and beautiful self, of the recent past.”, the other Prince twinkled his incredibly blue eyes at himself.
“Why are you here?,” asked the Prince.
”I’m here to tell you what to do because you’ve been so hopelessly lost. You need to be in the place that you wanted to be before it is too late. And also, more than anything, you need some grooming, my lovely dear. “, said the Prince’s other self, in a painfully polite and condescending leer.
“Follow me.”
As he followed the apparition of his other self from behind, he became fixated upon his own perfectly formed arse and wondered what was the Stallion’s intention when he said he wanted to keep it in its permanent sight. They came to a small stream of water before the Prince’s other self vanished. Thinking that he must have been imagining things, the Prince scooped some water from the stream with his blistered hands and started splashing his face, hoping it would cleanse his mind off debauched influences.
When he opened his eyes, he saw his other self in the water, all dreamy and basking in the glory of his own reflection, letting out a wry smile that was as though he was going to let out an important hint or two. Well, ether a hint, or a devious insult, depending on his luck.
”You look like shit, but I’m glad I had you in me,”
The handsome reflection withered into a gibbous and burnt mess, a lost soul intoxicated by the perfumes of the dead. His face was now unshaved, and covered in soot, his eyes looked like they had lost the skies above them and even when he smiled, it distorted his features and made him look amazingly sad. There was a vague understanding that all this was supposed to deeply depress the Prince, who used to be such a pinnacle of youthful beauty. However, quite on the contrary, he felt strangely lifted with pride and hope.
“You’ve shown yourself where you wanted to be. She’s in the water. You may go for her now. “, guided the Stallion, which appeared suddenly on the opposite side of the stream.
As his gaze traced the current of the small, rippling waves of the water, the Prince saw that the small stream lead to a bigger ocean of mystery, and there was a small boat waiting for him at the beginning of the mystery.
Chapter 5: Dory
He climbed onto the boat and was not too surprised when it began moving by account of it’s own magic. But it was not magic which was carrying him to his destination, he sooned realized. There was a figure cloaked in a long grey sheath rowing the boat with his back facing the Prince.
“Who are you?”, asked the Prince.
There was no reply from the figure. Heavy fear welled in the Prince’s heart, and it bloomed through the many layers of his armour in the form of cold sweat. The figure continued to row the boat forward in mechanical and controlled movements. The Prince realized that he couldn’t actually see the limbs of the figure from behind, and it made him wonder whether it was human, or some sick creation of macabre motives.
They were moving into bigger and broader oceans, oceans with the darkest shade of black that held much secrets and even death in its depths. The Prince was drawn unnaturally towards the unmoving water and wandered if they were actually sailing on water, or on the void that leads to a vortex of an incredibly gripping nightmare.
“Save me please.”
The boat stops. The grey figure disappears. The gentle plea seem to come from beneath the boat. The Prince searched the waters frantically for the source, and saw a cloud of golden hair swimming just beneath the surface. The spectral vision of a familiar face emerged from beneath the curtain of flowing hair. There was no doubt she was still alive, the soft, blushed skin on her cheeks gave away the blood that was still flowing in the veins. She was everything that he had remembered her for, a pinkish women who had a tender gracefulness about her, only that she seemed asleep in this instance, her conciousness trapped in a watery dream.
He reached his hands into the water to pull her out, but as his human skin touched the ocean, it felt nothing like water. The ocean tore his skin, travelled into his veins like poison and was moving at a terrifying speed into his hand, then his arm, then he could feel it go all the way to his lungs, sucking every breathe of life away to the alarming beat of some strange, dark music. As the mysterious ocean claimed his body as new home, the water level sank, and in the spot where the Sleeping Beauty once was, the leaving waters unveiled nothing but a bundle of wet, rotting flesh.
Chapter 6: Ready/Able
He stared at the rotting pile of flesh in horror, the golden hair was limp and rough, her cheeks were sunken and instead of life flowing beneath her skin, there were worms and maggots crawling and prickling their way out of the greenish, vile flesh. To his even greater alarm, he was now holding onto the hands of the rapidly degenerating corpse and unwilling to let got despite of the poison that was flooding his body.
As he tried to let go, he realized that the corpse was holding him back, sqeezing his hand so tightly that greenish pus was oozing out of its firm grip. And then with all the clarity of a lucid dream, he felt it weeping. The corpse was crying. It was crying for his touch, his embrace and most of all, his heart which she had so dearly missed. He finds himself shaking with grief in return, and haunted by memories of her beautiful dancing legs, the calming way which she snugged her delicate face warmly into his chest every now and then, her lovingly exuberant smile, and he suddenly found himself not capable of leaving his lover in the lurch even if it meant overcoming death.
He slowly picked her body up, and felt her calling out and pleading with him to save her from her watery grave. For a lack of a better apology, he lifted the broken skull and pushed the greenish flesh into his own face and kissed her. And as the living touched the dead, his blood became hers, his colour flowed into her face, her hair and limbs and finally when she opened her bloodless eyes, it caught the alarming shade of blue like his own. As their gazes aligned, they wasted an eternity looking into each others’ eyes, and this unleashed all the fear, sadness, longing and love for each other that they’ve carried around like a torch ever since the beginning of this perilous fairy tale. As they locked in permanent embrace, their bodies burst in light, the hearts of two lovers illuminating the entire world.
Then the whole of Veckatimest came crashing down on them.
Chapter 7: About Face
The Prince and the Princess found themselves in the middle of a large barren land that stretched for miles beyond their imagination.
“Now what?”, said the Princess.
The Prince shrugged and took her hand in his, and they began to walk towards the direction of their hearts’ desire.
Chapter 8: While you wait for the others.
The Stallion returned to his cavernous abode, and morphed into the shape of a man. He then propped himself onto feathered pillows and started drinking wine from the nearby stream while he waited for another lost lover to show up.
So, whose gut would it be next?
