Since the day Kat DuPont made a deal with the Fee of the Earth Realm, each realm has begun to merge. Follow along with Rise of the Realms flash fiction hidden scene short stories, and watch as her consequences unfold.
To the readers: Each flash fiction will be written from scratch at the time of posting – a complete “on the spot” writing of the author’s imagination. Each story will be written and posted immediately, untouched by an editor. Reader’s be advised: these stories are dark, Epic Fantasy – adolescent readers are not recommended. At no time may this be copied or reproduced in any way, without permission. (C) D. Fischer 2018.
Corbin gently places his luxurious crystal glass cup on the end table. Intricately carved and exquisitely sewn furniture, yet dark in nature and feel, is haphazardly places throughout the Fee of Terror’s chambers. The dark decor is fitting to his personality.
The glass clinks against the wood, sloshing the golden liquor inside. Sighing, he sits in the plush red couch and stares at the black Oleum puddle on the floor. It ripples as though it’s been disturbed, a life of its own, begging for Corbin to use it and peer into the minds of his competitors. Everyone is Corbin’s enemy – his to manipulate to his discretion and carefully calculated plans.
The demon servant standing behind the adjacent couch, wrinkles what’s left of his skin along his forehead. The bitter bite of the liquor’s scent overpowers his senses. He lifts an arm, skin shredded and dangling from his bones, and covers his hand over his missing nose. “How be you drink that?”
Corbin glances at him, frowning. “The Oleum?”
“Nah, the brown liquid. It be the aroma of toxic waste.”
Corbin chuckles. “I find some human pleasures…fitting.”
The demon’s eyelids narrow. The right eyelid sinks in due to no eyeball. “Be you not human… it not be fitting for the King of Terror to take part in human pleasure.”
The cushions creak as Corbin leans forward, dips his index finger in the black puddle, and swirls, coating his skin with slick oil. “Fee will do as they please, demon. I don’t need your opinion. I don’t want your suggestions.” He drops his tone in threat. “If you keep opening that poor excuse for a mouth, I’ll sew it shut.”
The demon gulps, knowing he’s crossed a line with his creator. He shifts, uncomfortable, and tries to think of a change of subject. “I be curious…” Corbin lifts his eyes, waiting for the demon to spit the question, yet knowing he’s reluctant to do so. “What be happening if one drink from the Oleum?”
“Ah,” Corbin nods, lifting his finger to examine the oil. “You already do, my friend.”
“Oh?” The demon crosses his arms behind his back, sliding back into a false sense of ease. “What be it do?”
Corbin smirks. “It is pure terror. It drops from the ceiling of the Domus Timore.”
“The castle? The black rain?”
Corbin rolls his eyes and lowers his voice to a growl. “Yes, you fool. It’s a slow drip to tide demons over until their next feed.” He licks his bottom lips, curious himself. The demon servant’s question opens the door to a new, twisted idea. “I wonder what would happen if a large quantity were to be consumed…”
He lifts his eyes to the demon once more, a sadistic grin spreading across his white teeth.
“S-s-sir?” the demon stutters. What’s left of his shredded muscles and skin begin to quiver as Corbin stands. The demon shakes his head, vigorously, and backs up, his spine hitting the large wooden doors to Corbin’s chamber.
“No.” The demon pleads. “No, please sir.”
“Let’s test it, shall we?” Corbin says, gleefully charming. With ease, he lifts his arm, commanding the oil puddled in front of him. The Oleum responds to its master, willing and loyal. A portion of the oil lifts, like a snake prepared to strike its prey. Corbin flicks his wrist and the oil strikes, traveling through the air, and straight down the demon’s open, screaming mouth.
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