tithe tithe tithe
The Antler King grinned, all teeth.
Then it drove the bone shard right through Clemens’s face.
Andrew didn’t look away.
Clemens screamed. Blood exploded across the Antler King’s chest as Clemens’s body spasmed like a butterfly hooked by its wings. His screams drowned in his throat as his head lolled. Slowly, the Antler King dragged the shard from between Clemens’s eyes. He licked it. Then he began carving the skin off Clemens’s face.
Andrew lost feeling in his legs. He sagged against the wall while the soft green shoot dug gleefully into his ear. He didn’t even care anymore. He could only stare in numb horror as Clemens’s body stopped twitching while the Antler King peeled skin off his face. It hit the floor in soft slaps like pieces of wet leather.
Then the Antler King looked up and its eyes locked on Andrew.
there you are
prince
“Stop. S-s-s-stop.” Andrew tried to jerk away, but the vines had him bound to the wall. He had to wake up from this nightmare. Wake up. This wasn’t real.Wake up.
The Antler King dropped Clemens into a bloody pile. Vines surged over his body and twisted inside his face to feast.
Andrew tried to struggle, but he had nothing left. He could only make each breath shallower than the last, pain growing in his ear as the vine dug deeper.
The Antler King reached
down
and down
and down
to caress Andrew’s tearstained face.
Its claws stretched out and the tips began puncturing Andrew’s skin, gently first, but in a second his face would match Clemens on the floor. Andrew’s cries turned to stammering, sheer nonsense and undiluted panic. He would die here. He was going to die, he was going to—
The Antler King’s arm spasmed suddenly, and its head tipped back in a roar.
The sharp edge of a hatchet sank into its shoulder.
The Antler King reared, claws scrabbling to grab the blade, but Thomas wrenched it free and swung again—this time crashing into the monster’s spine.
Its scream could curdle marrow.
Andrew ripped one hand free of the vines and fought, terrified and feral. He might have been screaming, too, but everything was drowned out by the Antler King’s roars. It whipped around and slammed a fist into Thomas. His body was flung backward, limp as he slammed into the wall. But he sprang to his feet.
Thomas planted his boots among the festering vines, his chin tilted up in defiance as the monster bore down on him. Blood flecked his tee shirt, and his freckles stood out against his bone-pale skin.
He bared his teeth and swung the hatchet with two hands.
He was mad and brutal beauty in that moment. Andrew forgot how to breathe.
Thomas swung the hatchet again and again. The monster reeled, but not before slashing claws across Thomas’s shoulder. Blood sprayed. Thomas leaped for the Antler King and brought the hatchet down on its skull. It sagged to its knees, clawing at its face.
Thomas swung again, again, againagainagain—
The monster’s head caved in as it hit the floor. Its skin exploded like it had been built of nothing more than leaves and packed dirt. Thomas heaved the hatchet into the air and brought it down as if he were chopping wood. Bones splintered, but he kept going.
The Antler King had long ago stopped breathing.
