![]() Moonchild watched anxiously as the Red King struck off his luxuriant robe, leaving it crumpled in a red swathe on the floor, and tumbled acrobatically onto the plush covers of an enormous king-sized bed adorned with a deep-red overthrow. Moonchild tensed and tried to skitter away, but the guards shoved her aside as if she was a strong breeze and used their thick shoulders to jostle her inside. The man chuckled for a moment, as if he found himself endearing, before he strolled into the room. She had never seen a smile more beautiful - or more deadly. Moonchild had known that the second he had taken her prisoner. It was such a rare and stunning smile, one that was enough to melt a girl to a puddle, but it only appeared when he was about to do something especially wicked or vicious. His only expression was the strange enigmatic smile twisted on his lips. To her surprise, the King had patience scripted on his face. She was deeply afraid of the King and wished greatly to never have him howl at her again. The woman tried not to bristle in place, but discomfort blistered her features despite her effort. "This is.?"Moonchild trailed off hesitantly. He sighed pleasantly and gestured to a large doorway. The King's erratic manner only changed when they had trudged down a narrow staircase and had passed to the end of a passage. The man said nothing if she whimpered or winced from the guard's harsh treatment, but only soldiered forwards with nothing but his destination in mind. Fear coiled around her stomach as she was marched down the halls, following the spasmodic path of the King. There was no space for her to wander through the checkerboard floors or to glance at the morbid portraits - if she was to drift a few paces or walk too slowly, the guards were quick to drive their feet into the back of her heels. Each of these previous rulers was fixed with jet-black locks, sunken eyes and wan sickly-looking skin. ![]() Most were framed depictions of fierce battles, lewd portraits of marriages, births and funerals, and every few metres there seemed to be a disapproving face scowling down from their frames. The Castle seemed to be devoid of life, except for the gruesome portraits splayed crookedly on the walls. For the immensity of the rooms and the hundreds of doors that blotched the walls like bruises, all was silent. The burgundy screens and surfaces extended for what seemed like miles, enclosing around Moonchild like the twisted jaws of a leviathan. Move It! Shake It! Dance and Play It! Street Party įireworks: Believe.The hallways were entangled inside the castle walls like raw sinews intricate and circuitous, each wall was painted with finger-smears of thick and viscous paint. ![]() Parades: Celebrate A Dream Come True Parade
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