Mask of Poison (Fall of Under Book 1) by Kathryn Kingsley (great novels to read txt) 📕

beautiful. I once believed Under was a shining jewel. That we were a masterpiece of beauty, and horror, and life. That you were wise in your cruelty. That it all served a purpose…that it was all part of a plan. I thought I was loved.”

He walked to a lit candelabra, the dozens of tapers burning bright. The little flames had stood witness to the tragedy and horror around them. To the deaths of those Rxa had pulled apart. He grinned under his mask.

“I don’t know how I can destroy you, Ancients of old. But know that I will find a way. I will not stop until I do. But in the meanwhile, I think I will kill every single thing you care for.” Rxa grinned under his mask.

He shoved the candelabra, toppling it over into a tapestry that ran up the wall. He watched as the fibers smoldered, charred, and then caught fire. It spread quickly up the tapestry, climbing higher and higher.

Soon, the building would blaze.

Good.

He whistled as he walked back toward the exit. Kind of. He didn’t really have lips yet.

He paused as he noticed a new statue that he hadn’t seen before. It was a twisted, rotted, hideous creature. Its skin was peeling away from the bone, as if it had been dead long before it ceased to move. It was the statue of an Ancient, but not one he recognized.

At its base was an altar, matching those of the other statues in the alcoves throughout the sanctuary. One for each of the seven houses.

And now, an eighth.

“Oh. Hello.” He walked up to the disgusting statue. “I suppose you’re the one I should be thanking for my new life.” Every Ancient required a royal. And it had chosen him.

His mind wandered to Ember. The pretty young woman with the strange hair who had been terrified of him but had looked upon his wretched pain with compassion. With pity. “What do you want from me, Ancient in Yellow?”

The statue merely stared down at him. Empty eye sockets revealing nothing. Toothy, skull-like grin giving nothing away. Nothing except the joy of death. Of destruction.

“Don’t think you’ll escape my wrath, newcomer.” He sneered. “You will die with the rest. But you will all die…after the rest of this forsaken world.”

He knew where to start. He knew who to kill first. It made tactical sense. Attack the most dangerous opponent while their guard might still be lowered. Storm them while they might still be unprepared.

But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that it was the person he really, really, reaaaaaaaally wanted to kill first. Slowly. And then kill again. And eat his heart. And then let him heal. And then eat his heart again. And then make him watch as he tore Lydia’s marks from her face and ate her flesh as she screamed for mercy.

For pity.

For compassion.

He strolled out of the building, still whistling, although it was hard to hear over the crackle of the blaze around him. Once he was out on the front steps, he turned to watch the fire. “I’ll make you watch as I murder all that you love. I’ll make you watch as I dismember this lie you’ve made, limb by limb. I’ll make you weep as I tear apart your favorite son.” I should have been your favorite. I should have been the one you loved.

Lies. All of it. I never mattered.

“Correction…I’ll make you weep as I tear apart your only son.”

He walked up to one of the rotted corpses next to him and slung his arm on the man’s shoulder, casually leaning on him as if they were the best of friends. As far as he was concerned, they were. He plucked idly at some of the skin hanging from the man’s ribcage. It tore off in chunks. The dead man didn’t seem like he minded.

“But Aon will be very hard to kill. And he’s already sent me to the grave once.” He paused again. “I’ll need a bigger army to take him on. But I think I know where to get it. Yej has a lot of people, doesn’t it?” He sighed, quite contentedly thinking out loud.

It wasn’t really talking to himself, per se—since there were people there.

They just weren’t people-people.

“I think I’ll name you Fred.” He smiled under his mask at the corpse next to him. “Hello, Fred. You’ll be my new best friend. We’re going to have a lot of fun. C’mon, Fred. Let me show you around! Welcome to Under.”

He hummed to himself as he walked from the burning building. The whole of Yej would become his army. And then when he had thousands upon thousands marching behind him…he would go pay a visit to his very old, very dear friend, Aon.

And he would tear the King of Shadows to pieces and eat his flesh.

If he died a second time at the warlock’s hands, he supposed it was only poetic.

If Rxa killed him instead, it would be justice.

Rxa smiled underneath his mask. If he even really had a face. He wasn’t quite sure. It felt…squishy. Everything felt squishy, to be fair.

Fear me, for I am Rxa, the King of Goop.

He cackled at his silent joke, and for the first time in a very long time—he felt hope.

No, never mind, that might be his liver growing back. He stuck his finger into his ribcage to find out. Yup. Just his liver.

Oh, well.

“Hey, Fred!” He smiled.

Or didn’t.

Whatever.

“I have a liver again!”

13

It felt terrible to abandon Ember to what was likely a gruesome fate. But Lyon did not know what other choice he had.

If the city were overrun, she would be doomed, regardless.

He could only pray to the Ancients that he was not too late to save Yej.

He exploded into a swarm of bats and took to the sky. It wasn’t hard to find the creatures that Rxa had set loose. All he had to do was follow the sounds of screaming. He dispatched as many as he could, ripping