Dead on my feet from trekking through the forest of lost souls that was now ablaze thanks to my handy survival skills, I finally saw it, the rulers ruins. It has been said to become the ruler one must make it here and grab the scepter and only the chosen will survive the tests.
In the middle of an opening stood a gazebo with the promise of power. The gazebo was made of human bones. Pelvises held up femurs and tibias and at the top skulls were fastened to look out among the vast plain in all directions daring anything to come its way. At the top was a skull wearing a crown fit for a king, a sick joke I imagined but, upon the crown sat a crow.
As I stepped forward out of the blazing forest the crow hopped a turn to look down at me and cock its head in wonder. I could feel its glare down in my soul. Shuttering my heart raced as I stepped forward energy renewed, my adrenalin pumping pushing me to the end of my journey. The bird straightened in interest ruffling its jet black feathers.
“Deep breaths.” I reminded myself and bolted forward my shredded clothing flapping behind me as I ran. I hit the steps as the crow swooped down from its perch and began circling around the gazebo squawking angrily. More and more crows joined until all I could see outside the bones was a mass of black wings and shifting bodies.
Ignoring their grotesque caws I set my eyes forward upon my prize. There, in the center of everything, stood a scepter of ivory with a black and red glowing bulb atop. The colors swirled and seemed to pulsate in tandem with my heart beat.
Grinning I grabbed it just below the bulb and held it high over head, black and red shot out skyward and the crows fell silent. Power flooded through me as I tilted my head back and screamed till my throat hurt and I ran out of breath.
I lowered the scepter and the birds dissipated, all except one whom reclaimed its perch upon the crown. “You’re so fired” I thought as I began my decent down the bone woven steps as the queen of Hell.