The throne room was quiet as he walked in, all the subjects bowing their heads in both fear and respect.
Not even a single sound was heard, only the sounds of his boots, as they marched against the concrete floor.
The aura could be felt - that deadly aura. And that was, perhaps, one of things that brought him so much respect and fear from people.
His hands were crossed behind his back as he walked in and sat on his high throne. But the subjects dare not lift their heads, not until he permits them to.
"Long live the King" they chorused as soon as they noticed him sitting.
There was a long silence, as he rested his chin and touched his lower lip with his thumb.
There was not a single person in the hall, that he was older than. He was just 28, yet gained so much respect.
"You may rise" he finally gave the command and they lifted their heads, in relief.
He didn't stare at any of them, but they knew what was next.
Shortly, he was brought in - the injured guard.
He limped painfully, his hand over his hurting belly, until he got closer to the throne and knelt in front of the young King.
"Long live my King" he did the normal routine, his head bowed.
But one could tell he was in pains - and not just pains, but fear as well.
"I'm sorry, My King. But we lost her. We tried all we could to capture her, but she used her powers on one of my men, turning him against us. And in the end, everyone of them died. I'm the only survivor" he explained with hard gulps.
He was as scared as a man close to death could feel.
The subjects had so many thoughts running through their minds, but they dare not murmur - not when they were in front of the King.
King Caesar was silent for a long while.
"You're trying to say....you lost her?" he finally spoke up, his voice so calm, words so soft.
"Yes, my King. Forgive my incompetence".
King Caesar stood up and walked gracefully to the table behind the throne. His steps were slow, but smart.
"You went on a mission with 8 men - to capture a single lady. Yet, only one of you returned". He said lowly as he touched the weapons on the table.
The guard was almost shivering.
For a long while, there was silence, suspense.
But not until he spoke out.
"You're worst than a failure".
And with that, he took a dagger and turning swiftly, he threw it right at him, in such an incredible way, it landed straight into his chest.
He groaned as blood oozed from his mouth. And in a split second, he was lying on the floor. Cold.
And dead.
Cold shivers ran through the veins of the subjects, as they whimpered in fear, praying vehemently they don't victim at all.
King Caesar, his hands crossed behind his back, walked back to his throne and took his seat.
"Take more men" he said to the two guards in the room.
"Go in search of the confessor. I want her found by all means.
"No matter what, make sure she doesn't die. I want her alive". He paused and took in q deep breath.
"I have so many plans in store for her".
Silence.
"Yes, My King" the guards bowed and left.
*
*
Her name is Isabelle. And she's the last confessor - the last of her kind.
Of course, they were more than that. But, not until her village was ambushed few days ago by the King's guards, and every one of her kind died. All the confessors were killed.
The confessors - they were females with special powers of compulsion. They had the ability to turn a man into their slaves and do every single thing they desire. And it'd go on for as long as the confessor was alive.
King Caesar was a victim of this. He was a slave to one of the confessors and worshipped her. All he could think of, day and night, was pleasing his mistress.
The confessor was not all that nice, as she made him kill his parents.
He had no control of himself and didn't know what he was doing. But finally, the spell was broken and he coming back to his senses, he realized all that he's done and lost. He realized how he'd been in bondage for years, and even killed his own parents.
It broke him.
He mourned for months, trying to get over it, but couldn't. The confessors had fled and went into hiding, but unfortunately, their hideout was discovered - somehow- and they were ambushed.
Every one of them died, except her - Isabelle.
She was the sister to the confessor who had enslaved the King and she was the only one lucky enough to escape.
Although, her sister was thought to be dead, but her body was yet to be found.
Isabelle tried all she could to hide from the King, but it turned out impossible for her as the King hunted her tirelessly.
But what was the vengeful King's plans for her?
Was her sister really dead?
And would she remain the last of her kind forever?
She ran through the woods, panting heavily, her back already aching.they were almost closing up on her, and she knew she needed a way to distract them, to get rid of them.Her breath was already faltering, and running pass a hole, she came out to another part of the forest where she slided to a big tree and hid behind it.Her white garment was already stained and she tried to pack them up so no traces would be found when the guards come running by.Her plan was to hide behind the tree and pray the guards run pass her, without seeing her. Because she couldn't afford being found.She breathed heavily as she leaned against the tree, and soon, their sounds of their boots were heard. She shut her eyes and prayed fervently they continue running without seeing her, but to her outmost disappointment, she heard them stop.Oh! Damn it.She opened her eyes, still panting and wondering why they sto
The throne room was quiet as he walked in, all the subjects bowing their heads in both fear and respect.Not even a single sound was heard, only the sounds of his boots, as they marched against the concrete floor.The aura could be felt - that deadly aura. And that was, perhaps, one of things that brought him so much respect and fear from people.His hands were crossed behind his back as he walked in and sat on his high throne. But the subjects dare not lift their heads, not until he permits them to."Long live the King" they chorused as soon as they noticed him sitting.There was a long silence, as he rested his chin and touched his lower lip with his thumb.There was not a single person in the hall, that he was older than. He was just 28, yet gained so much respect."You may rise" he finally gave the command and they lifted their heads, in relief.He didn't stare at any of them,
Isabelle walked for a long time before arriving at the small village.She had to go through the busy market first and as she walked along, the cap of her garment was over her head.She kept her head down the whole time, trying as much as possible to avoid the gazes of others because she knew she'd be in trouble, if her face gets seen by anyone.She was the most wanted person in the Kingdom at that moment.She was able to pass the market successfully and after a longer walk, she finally got to the small door and knocked on it.There was no reply.She looked around and knocked again.Damn it! Just open the door! She grumbled in her heart and almost immediately, she heard the door opening.It opened creakily until the face of the 'opener' was finally revealed.She gasped as soon as she saw the confessor."Isabelle???" She wanted so bad to scream the name, but ended
King Caesar stood quietly in the room, his thumb touching his lower lip, as he pleasantly watched the maid being screwed by the guards.The first one was done, the second one was on her, and the guard was on standby, waiting for the second."Please....please. I'm sorry" the maid cried as she laid on the floor, unable to move from the guard who was mercilessly screwing her hole.Caesar didn't even flinch as he leaned against the table and watched in satisfaction. That was what she gets from being disobedient.The second guard finished from her and stood up and the third guard started unhooking his belt."Please, my King. I'm sorry, please" the lady quickly went turned to Caesar, tears streaming down her cheeks."I'm sorry, please. Have mercy on me".She knew Caesar was never the type that listened to pleas, but having no other option, she just decided to try.His eyes were as cold as ever, her ple
After Emily left to get the herbs, Isabelle left the room where was and returned to the first, where Emily son had been laying.She stood and stared pathetically at the boy, placing her hand on his head.She knew he meant a lot to Emily and prayed he gets better soon.She left him and sat on the old wooden chair in the room, taking a deep breath as she rested her back. Finally...She touched her leg and confirmed it felt better. Better than before.As she leaned her head backwards, she closed her eyes and almost drowse.The sleep was tempting, but she tried not to. And suddenly, she thought of her sister.She recalled all they had been through together and concluded life had not been really fair on them.Tabitha and Isabelle grew up with just their father, who treated them like slaves. Their mother - who was also a confessor - died during Isabelle's delivery and Isabelle figured that wa
King Caesar sat in a comfy manner on his throne, his thumb rubbing his lower lip, while the confessor was brought in by his guards.His subjects were in the hall as well, standing accordingly on each side and watched as the confessor was brought in, her hands tied behind her.Caesar's cold eyes didn't leave her face for a second, Isabelle also fixed her eyes on him and finally, she was placed on her knees in front and him.She was scared to the teeth, but tried as much as possible not to show it.She looked up at the King for a while, and when the silence stretched, she lowered her gaze to the floor."Hmm" He finally let out a sigh and moved his thumb from his lip."Tell me this is a dream. Isabelle Zorander - the last confessor on earth - kneeling in front of me".His voice was so calm and gentle as he spoke, but Isabelle knew there were so many hidden intentions behind it.His face cr
Isabelle's heart thumped heavily as she stood behind him. Her hands were literally shaking, but she turned them into fists - nervous fists. Caesar didn't hear any sound or movement and he knew instantly that she was yet to undress. He turned with blazing eyes and confirmed the knowledge. She was still fully dressed and didn't look like she had any plans of undressing. "Do I have to repeat myself?" He asked hoarsely and Isabelle lowered her gaze to the floor.She could feel her entire system shaking. "Please...." She forced herself to say. That was all she could think of doing at the moment. "You can do anything to me - but not this". If Caesar had wanted to change his mind, seeing Isabelle plead against it had completely ruined everything. He needed something that'd hurt her pretty bad, something she didn't like. And seeing how scared she was of this, it just willed his detetmination.&nbs
Isabelle couldn't stop thinking pathetically as she followed the lady to wherever it was she was taking her. She didn't even care if it was somewhere dangerous. Her life was already a mess, being the King's prisoner.They walked down a quiet hallway, then got to where seemed a little noisy, coming across some guards who were drinking and laughing widely.As Isabelle walked by, they turned and stared seductively at her."Hey, confessor", one of them called in a sniggering voice."Come and confess me, please. Come and make me your slave".A roar of laughter was heard but Isabelle tried her best not to react to it or even stop to look at them. She just bent her head and continued walking like they were never referring to her.She knew they were only making mockery of her because of the Rada'Han on her neck. They knew her powers had been caged and that was what angered Isabelle to the core. She hated t