THE HAUNTED KINGDOM 3 by CHARLES E.J. MOULTON (ereader that reads to you .txt) 📕

seemed so remote now that he was riding back to a place that encapsulated their origin. And yet, they rang so true and so poignant as if they had been uttered yesterday and not 38 years ago.
He was the rider that came back to the haunted palace to search for the ghost.

§

I wake up now because we have a visitor.
Who is he?
He is riding on a brown stallion. He is a handsome man, a very handsome man.
But who is he, a new victim?
We always hear everything way in advance with our large ears, so no wonder we heard him way before he entered our territory. I keep reminding my of my skill, so that when I attack I am sure enough of victory.
I waddle out of my hole, scratching my back and chewing on the remainder of a bug.
Sticking my head up out of the ground, I see him now, he is riding our way.
I turn around, flash my hundred fangs at my two friends and ask them to come with me. We scuttle fast behind a tree and hide there, waiting for him to come closer so that we can get a better look at him. I gave to be careful, for my mouth is starting to drool. I remember Oleana and how good she tasted. I have not had human meat since then.
We are creatures of darkness, so the people who fear us do not know how well we can cope in seeing in the dark. We must find out who this man is, so that we can tell him this.
I peep around the stem, he is close now.
I giggle as I do, for I cannot wait.
Oh, yes. That face. I recognize it. It is the man who is here to meet his … what was that thing the dream said? He is here to meet his daughter? Sister? Wife? All three? It has something to do with the cave that lies down there, I know that … from my dream.
I hop out from behind the tree and my friends hop after me, just as the horse is close enough to see me.
The horse stands up on his two hind legs and the man tries to stay on the saddle by moving forward so far that he almost lies flat on the horse’s back.
We laugh, for he sees us now.
We see his eyes glowing in the dark and he sees our eyes and our big mouths drooling.
The horse clumps down on his front legs, nervously shifting from hoof to hoof.
The man says something.
“Rumzils. My God, Mercutio. Killer Rumzils!”
I know not what language he speaks, only that I see him pointing at us.
His horse is shifting from hoof to hoof and rises from his front legs again to stand on his back.
It throws the man off the horse.
The stallion grunts as he falls off and lands.
He sits up, tries to stand but doesn’t make it.
His horse is obviously very nervous and afraid. We like nervousness.
“Ur-ophzuiga-ku. Hli u ageroim o efgapoe ekkk?” I exclaim, but the man does not answer. I smile, but he does not smile back. I wonder why, I just want to eat him. That is all.
No problem. Then we can be lifelong friends.
“Ur-ophzuiga-ku.”
He stands up and takes out his sword.
He notices that his leg is bleeding and reaches down to touch it.
Then we see our chance.
We jump at him, start clawing. We open our mouths simultaneously ready to eat his nose, when he pushes his sword down my friend’s throat. What a nasty thing.
My friend scuttles off, clutching his face. I see him drop to the ground, panting.
The large man pushes me away and starts running for his horse that is running in circles around a tree.
“Mercutio!” I hear him call.
Why is this man so scared of us?
We just want to eat him.
He limps to this horse and tries to hold on to the saddle.
He sits up, mounts but slides off, mount again and starts riding off.
I see my chance and jump up on the saddle and start biting at his leather vest. My friend, the only one alive at this point, jumps after me as the man rides. We both start tearing at his clothes.
Nice. I tear a piece off. Tasty. He starts wriggling.
That is when I slap his horse, ready to bite its ass.
His horse screeches and wails.
The man stops and turns around. He takes me with both hands and throws me against a tree. I feel myself hit the stem and slide to the ground.
The man stops his horse and takes my other friend in his hands.
Then something amazing happens.
He lifts off the horse. In mid air he then throws the Rumzil to the ground and kills him, too. I am the only one alive now. He takes the sword and comes against me, flying, with his sword in his hand.
He lifts his sword and …
I run, leaping almost to get away.
The man is flying around and starts hitting at me with his sword.
I claw at his face, giving him a wound or two and I have to laugh at this.
Served the little shit right that I got him on his cheek.
He takes his sword and … oh, no … blood spurts out of my arm. My arm is off.
I grit my teeth and jump at him. He kicks me away.
I see then that my friends are not dead. They have crawled to the place where we are right now and simultaneously gather all their strength in standing up. They take each one leg and start clawing at the man’s pants.
I waddle off to them, happily nodding at this fine idea and decide to work on his behind.
That is when the man flies off again, my two friends dangling from his pants, not yet at his flesh.
He lifts the left one off, throws him up and takes the sword that carries and cuts off the creatures head with one swift stroke. The head bumps against one of the trees and rolls toward the ground in one of the bushes. The body drops to the ground.
As I hurry up to reach him, but realize that I cannot, he takes the only one alive at this point and pierces his stomach with his weapon. He takes out his sword and then beheads my friend.
I pick it up and look at it, cocking my head in fascination and fear, just as …
The man is flying my way.
I have to attack. I have to survive.
I jump up just as he lifts his sword.
I feel myself opening my mouth to bite his nose.
His sword swings toward my throat. Oh, no, I feel the silver sword touching my ski …

§

Alex lay panting by Mercutio, three butchered Rumzils around his own body.
He was standing on all fours, sweating like never before.
A drop of sweat mixed with blood from his wound and dropped the ground.
All his blurred vision could see was mud lit my moonlight.
He felt himself gasp for air, his breath hot and his stomach pumping out and in like that of Mercutio’s.
His hair was hanging in his eyes, sweat rolling into them and blocking his vision.
Alexander’s hand reached toward his own back. His vest was torn in the back, as were his pants.
He sat back on his hind legs, shaking his head.
Blood, that was blood on his face. The Rumzil had clawed him bloody.
Lucky those things were slow on getting to his flesh below the clothing otherwise he might not be sitting here now.
He looked up at Mercutio, who seemed to be nervous.
Alexander stood up and walked to the horse. His was shivering.
“Whoa, there, big fellow. Take it easy now. They are gone.”
He looked at Mercutio’s behind and realized there was just a small mark there, no wound.
He stroked it a few times.
“Does it hurt?”
The horse shook his head.
“It is all right, my friend. It is over.”
Alex leaned toward his horse, panting, sighing, crying, and feeling numb.
These three things had come out so quickly just now that he had not been prepared at all for them. Now, he was a murderer with a scar on his face.
There was a long way to go. Time to leave.
Alex mounted again and clip-clopped slower on to what he thought seemed like a clearer path of some kind. He patted the stallion on the mane.
“We will make this, I promise” Alex said.
He almost heard the stallion answer “I don’t know” under his breath.

§

Move quickly, Centurion.
We don’t know how far Alexander has come.
Most probably he is in the forest already.
I wanted to be there when he rode through it, but I am sorry to say that I am not.
He is strong, but I am still afraid of what might happen when he sees Rigor Mortis, if he has not already seen it. It will remind him of my old identity and he might start mistrusting me again.
God, I have not slept now for days. How much head start has Alexander got now?
I can’t afford to sleep.
I do not know how much time I have.
If I knew I would be happy, but I don’t know.
I have to be content with hunger and thirst. I have to be satisfied with letting my cape flutter behind my in the wind and my eye almost closing in the breeze.
It is night.
Oh, my dear Alexander, why I am not with you?
Centurion, can you feel the heat in my heart beating again?
My hatred has a power of its own and I know that it is very much like the temptation lust has to offer, addiction to infidelity. Weakness conquered me back then, but the memory is stronger. The memory of what I am. The pain is endless. I must save Alex. He is trained as a fighter, but he does not know what things his sister might have planned.
Father Ibn-Dal, why did you not teach me righteousness?
Why am I growing angrier?
What is happening to my soul?
As I ride closer to the cave I feel my spirit’s conflict.
I clutch the mane of my horse, hoping to arrive in time save my friend. But I also lust to kill him.
What is happening here?

§

“Ride on, lonely rider, ride onwards on your brown stallion.
You are a stranger here, but you may still ride on, that is … if you wish to ride on.
You see me screaming at you, I know, because you can see me fly and block your vision.
You can fly, as well. I know you can. How clever you are.
But I have always flown. I was born to fly.
I am not a body.
I am not of this world, but this is still my home.
You try to challenge us?
Challenge us? How can you?
Who are we that you think this is a possibility?
We were here before time began, so