The Queen of Darkness

Thora was quite, to put it nicely, an unusual child. She was born in the year of our Lord, 983 A.D., on the eve of the new year. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her poor father did not know what to do with her.

King Alexander was bewildered by his daughter. For one thing, he and his beloved wife, Isabelle, both had long, golden hair that flowed thick and pretty. Thora's hair was darker than a bat's wing, and lay very flat and straight. Both her mother and father were well known for their pleasing appearances; but Thora was very plain, her skin pale, his eyes dull and brown.

It was whispered throughout the castle walls that perhaps the child was not King Alexander's daughter, and that Queen Isabelle had been unfaithful. The rumors greatly angered him, and he ordered that any servant overheard speaking such lies was to be immediately imprisoned.

As the years passed, King Alexander came to the realization that he was beginning to fear his own child. When Thora turned eight years of age, Alexander came upon her in her chambers, playing with a doll made of straw. But it was not in the innocent matter that most young girls played with toys. Thora had poked several pins into the doll, in places such as the eyes, the chest, and betwixt the legs. This greatly disturbed King Alexander. Especially when several of the servants began to complain about strange mysterious discomforts: a young woman spoke of her eyes burning, and another felt a constant sharp pain in the heart. A third, one of the handmaiden's, gave birth to a stillborn baby.

This caused King Alexander to panic. He ordered Thora to be moved to the chamber in the tallest tower of the castle, where she was to be kept under constant supervision. It was years before he saw his daughter again.

Thora didn't mind being stuck in her small, damp quarters. All she had was her tiny straw bed, and a wool blanket. But there was a window where she could look out into the outside world. Every day, she was brought two meals and plenty of water, but she was not allowed out of the room unless summoned by her father.

Every day, Thora would look outside her small window, to see the sun shining brightly in the blue sky. She wished she could go outside and play, like other little girls, but of course the tower was much too high for her to escape.

Thora spent many years in the tower. Once a year, on her birthday, a seamstress would come to take her measurements, and would make her a new dress that better fitted her growing form. The dresses were all the same- modest, black gowns, made of lamb's wool. Then the seamstress would leave, and Thora was alone once again.

Over the years, Thora became very lonely. She would try to strike up conversations with the servants that brought her food and water, but they had received strict orders from King Alexander not to speak with her. Young girls should not be left alone for years without a person to talk to. It does things to their minds. Not to mention, Thora was becoming more and more sensitive to the sunlight that poured into the chamber from the tiny window.

Soon it was only seven days before Thora's eighteenth birthday, and as the sun was beginning to set, the door of the chamber opened, and in walked the seamstress, who was by now quite aged, and perhaps in her sixth decade.

Thora stood very still and quietly as the seamstress took her measurements, her face blank, and her eyes expressionless. She had filled out beautifully as a young maid. Her body was no longer straight and thin, but had voluptuous curves. Her breasts were petite, but prominent. As the seamstress walked behind her to measure the back of her shoulders, Thora was surprised to hear the older woman whisper something in her ear. It was the first time the woman had spoken to her.

"Thora, I have something for you."

Thora held still as she felt the seamstress slip something over her head and around her neck. She looked down, and saw that she had placed a silver chain necklace, with a small silver cross hanging from it.

"Twas your mother's," the seamstress whispered. "Keep it secret. I'm sure she would have wanted you to have it."

Thora was stunned. She did not even have time to say thank you, as the old woman turned briskly and left the room. For a long time, Thora sat quietly on her straw bed toying with the cross around her neck. A full moon rose outside in the black night sky, and the moonlight cast a silver light into the chamber.

Suddenly, Thora heard a sort of tapping sound near the window. She looked over, and saw a small brown mouse crawling along the windowsill. The mouse hopped down from the window, scuttled across the floor, and sprang up on the bed next to Thora.

Smiling, Thora reached down to gently stroke the mouse on its head with her fingertip. "Perhaps I have made a new friend," Thora said.

"I will be your friend, Thora," announced the mouse, with a squeak. Thora was only slightly surprised. She was mostly happy that she had someone to talk to.

"What is your name?" Thora asked the mouse.

"You may call me Martin," the mouse replied, and to her amusement, he stood up on his back two legs and made a little bow. Thora laughed with delight. Then Martin crawled up Thora's arm, until he came to rest on her left shoulder.

"You are a special young girl, Thora," Martin squeaked into her ear. "You have no idea how special. My master has chosen you."

"Chosen me?" Thora repeated. "What do you mean?"

"My master has been watching you since you were born, Thora. He has watched you grow up. He has something very important planned for you. He sent me to tell you how to prepare for it."

"I don't understand," Thora said, shaking her head in confusion.

"You will understand," Martin said, "in time. Now listen carefully."

Thora followed Martin's instructions exactly. For the next week, Thora refused the meals she was brought, and drank only the water. In between the servants' intrusions, Thora slept during the hours of the day, and spent her nights saying up and talking to Martin.

"It won't be long now," Martin told her. "Now, Thora, I have more instructions for you."

The next morning, when the servant girl came to bring Thora's food and water, Thora hid Martin carefully in her hand. As the girl began to leave, Thora very carefully slipped Martin into the pocket of the girl's apron. Then she lied down on her bed and fell fast asleep.

When night came, Thora waited anxiously for Martin to return. At last, the little brown mouse slipped in from under the crack of the door. Around his neck he carried a small metal key. Thora picked both of them up, and held one in each hand.

"On the eve of your eighteenth birthday," said Martin, "you must lock the chamber door from the inside. No one must enter the room. At precisely midnight, my master will come for you."

"But how will he enter, if the room is locked?" asked Thora inquisitively.

"The master will find a way," Martin replied mysteriously. "My task is finished here, Thora. I must leave you now."

"No, no, please don't go! You are my only friend!"

Unheeding of her plea, Martin jumped down from her hand, scurried across the floor, and hopped up to the windowsill. "Very soon, Thora, you will no longer need friends." And with that, he disappeared out the window.

Thora began to weep uncontrollably. What could the mouse possibly mean by that mysterious comment? All she really wanted was a friend. That was why she had done everything that Martin asked of her. But now, she was alone, left with only a key in her hand, and her loneliness. She spent the rest of the night shedding pitiful tears, and at morning's light, she lied down to sleep.

The next night was the eve of her eighteenth birthday. Thora stared out the window, praying that Martin would poke his little head and whiskers into the room, but there was no sign of him. There was nothing to do now but wait.

At one minute until midnight, Thora took out the key Martin gave her, and locked the chamber door. Then she sat upon her bed, and waited, as fear and anticipation filled her heart.

Suddenly, a crisp breeze blew in from the window, and before Thora's eyes there appeared a man, tall and fearsome, with long coal black hair. He was dressed all in black, from his shirt to his boots, and a long black cape was draped over his shoulders. His face was very young and handsome, but his eyes were a strange, glowing yellow.

The man smiled, revealing straight white teeth, but his incisors where unusually long and slightly pointed. "Thora," he spoke, his voice deep and demanding. "I have waited many years for this moment."

"Who are you?" Thora asked, her voice trembling in fear.

"I am the demon, Atomos, and I am your lord and master. My servant Martin has prepared you well, I see. Is the door locked, as per my instructions?"

Thora nodded.

"Very good. Now, stand up."

Afraid to do anything but obey him, Thora stood from the bed and walked towards him. Atomos grinned as he reached out a hand to stroke Thora's pale cheek. Then he ran his thumb over her full bottom lip.

"So lovely," he crowed, and before Thora could protest, he leaned down to devour her lips in a kiss. Atomos was anything but gentle. His kiss was hungry and fierce, and his tongue probed the inside of her mouth. Once his sharp teeth pierced her lip, and Thora could taste her own blood.

At last, Atomos released her, and Thora took the moment to catch her breath. His yellow eyes never leaving hers, Atomos removed his cape with a flourish, then turned to spread it out over the straw bed.

"Remove your clothing, Thora," the demon commanded. He watched her lustfully with his glowing yellow eyes. Thora hesitated only for a moment, then stripped slowly out of her dress, as tears welled in her eyes. Soon she stood before him naked, the first time she had done so before any man.

"Now lie down," Atomos said, motioning towards the bed. Thora closed her eyes tightly to regain courage, as tears streamed down her cheeks. Finally she obeyed, walking over to the bed, and lying down on her back atop the black cloak. It was a definite improvement in comfort, the soft silk against her bare skin.

Thora quickly forgot about the cape, as she looked up to see Atomos suddenly naked. His body was firm and muscular, flawless in every way. Very fine black hairs covered his chest, as well as a forest of hair between his strong legs. Standing from the black hairs was his huge member, stiff and hard.

"Now, Thora," said Atomos, "our bodies will become one, and we shall reign the new millennia. Darkness will rule the world, and you and I shall be its king and queen."

He leaned down over her, and Thora watched his lustful yellow eyes as they scanned her nude body. She lay very still as his hands reached out, squeezing her breasts, and toying with the nipples. Then he leaned down his head, and began flicking and swirling his long tongue over the taut nipples. Thora gasped through her tears, and she closed her eyes once more, whimpering softly as she prayed for it to end.

Suddenly Atomos stopped, and Thora opened her eyes. She saw his face contorted in anger, and she realized that he was looking at the silver cross around her neck.

"What is this atrocity?" Atomos growled.

"Please," Thora whispered. "It was my mother's."

Swiftly, Atomos snatched the chain and tore it from her neck. He looked at it for a moment, then a small smirk came to his face. "Ah, yes, I remember. Your mother wore this also, on the night I came to her, eighteen years ago. I thought I told her to get rid of it, but I see she did not listen."

Realization and horror came to Thora. So, the rumors had been true. King Alexander was not her father. It was he, Atomos, who had taken her mother all those years ago, and sealed her fate.

"No," Thora cried. "How could you!"

Atomos only laughed, as he threw the cross and chain to the ground. "You are mine, Thora. My seed, and now my queen. Just as soon as our bodies are merged, your destiny will be fulfilled."

Thora struggled to sit up, but Atomos easily pinned her down to the bed. "It is too late, my dear," he crooned. "There is no chance of resisting."

He took both of her wrists in his one large hand, and held them pinned above her head. Then his free hand stroked down over her breasts, then her stomach. Soon, his fingers found the deep center between her trembling legs, and delved into the very core of her. Thora cried out, as a strange sensation filled her body, and she felt flushed and warm all over.

"Yes," Atomos groaned, as his fingers thrust deeper inside her. His fingertip toyed with her clit, and Thora gasped and squirmed beneath him. "I feel your wetness, Thora, and that tells me you are ready."

Thora did not understand what he meant. Then her eyes widened in terror, as she watched Atomos change before her. His yellow eyes shone brightly, and enormous black horns began to grow from his forehead. Claws came out from his fingertips, and his skin began to turn a deep red. His fangs glistened in the moonlight, fierce and frightening, as Atomos emitted a blood-curdling laugh.

Thora began to scream, but she could not stop Atomos as he moved over her, his weight making it impossible for her to move. Then, with one hard thrust, Atomos pushed himself inside of her, causing her to cry out in pain. It felt as though scalding flames had engulfed her body, and Thora continued to scream as Atomos pumped into her.

His claws dug into her shoulders, drawing blood. He thrust into her harder and faster, grunted and groaning. Thora wept as he forced himself mercilessly inside her, and it seemed to go on forever.

Finally, as a bright light filled the room, nearly blinding her, Atomos let out a deafening cry as he spilled his seed inside of Thora. Then the light dimmed, and Thora lay weary and motionless on the bed. Atomos had changed back to his human form, and now stood up from the bed. Like magic, his clothes reappeared, including the black cloak around his shoulders.

"I have one last instruction for you, Thora," Atomos said. "Sleep now, and when you wake, the day will have come and gone. There will be a new gown waiting for you, much more fitting than the rags you are accustomed to. I want you to put it on, then leave the room and go down into King Alexander's throne room. No one will hinder you."

"What should I do when I get there?" Thora asked, her voice hoarse and meek.

Atomos just smiled. "You will know," he said only, and in a flash, he had vanished.

Thora, still lying on the straw bed, was too exhausted to think anymore. She fell asleep quickly.

When Thora's eyes opened, it was night once more, just as Atomos had said. She got up from the bed, and looked down to find a black gown lying neatly on the floor. She picked it up, and felt the smooth, satin material. It was truly a fine dress. She slipped it on, and it fit her perfectly.

Cautiously, Thora walked over to the chamber door, and slowly turned the knob, which was now unlocked. The door creaked as she pushed it open, and she peeked down into the hall. There was no one- no guard at the door, no servants bustling about. Very strange, Thora thought. She stepped out into the empty hallway.

It had been many years since Thora had gone to the throne room, but strangely, she remembered her way around the castle very well. Down several flights of stairs she went, until she came at last to a pair of heavy doors that led to the throne room.

Thora paused, as she noticed a large round mirror framed in silver, hanging from the adjacent wall. She turned to stare at her reflection. The gown truly did look lovely on her- the plunging neckline revealed the swell of her breasts, and the skirt flowed down to the floor, leaving a long train behind her. The sleeves hung loosely on her wrists.

Thora gazed at her face in the mirror. She was shocked to no longer see the little eight-year-old girl that she once knew, but a young woman. However, she still looked very plain, her skin pale, and dark circles were under her eyes.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light, quick as lightning, as the image in the mirror changed. Thora gasped- there was black shadow on her eyelids, black paint lined her eyes, and her lips were a deep blood red. She was. . . beautiful! She barely recognized the face as her own.

Then Thora turned to face the large double doors that led into King Alexander's throne room. She pushed hard on the heavy doors, and then slowly opened before her.

Words could not describe the horror that Thora saw in the throne room. There were the king's servants- lying dead in contorted positions on the floor. Blood stained the floor, as well as the walls. The room was filled with corpses, all brutally slain. Thora walked further into the room, gazing around at the chaos before her. As she neared the king's throne, she saw her father, Alexander, lying dead at the foot of the throne. His sightless eyes were open, his mouth agape, as dried blood seeped from where his throat had been cut.

Strangely, Thora felt no remorse for him. After all, this was the man who had locked her in a tower for ten years. Lastly, her eyes fell on the seat of the throne, where she saw a twisted silver crown of thorns.

Entranced, Thora stared at the crown as she walked up the steps to the throne. She stopped to lifted the crown from the seat, as the sharp ends pricked at her fingers. She took no notice, as she lifted the crown, and placed it upon her head.

Slowly, a smile crept to Thora's lips. She turned around and sat in the throne, looking out over her dead subjects. She felt laughter bubbling up inside her, and it soon erupted out of her. Her evil laughter echoed throughout the castle, though no one was alive to hear it. It was a dreadful sound, as Thora laughed long and loudly.

"All hail the Queen of Darkness!" Thora cackled. Now all she had to do was sit and wait for her King.