Chapter 15.3: Trojan Horse

August

An embargo was placed on the country of Norway after it had announced that it's Queen died on August 29th, and that it would no longer participate as a compliant territory in September. The entire globe knew it was a coup, by her own son, no worse!

The other governments waited, they knew it would not be much time for them to comply, their citizens would be starved, their economy as well.

September ended, and many people had left, but a lot of people were still there… perfectly fine… living as if nothing had changed.

One by one, various other countries announced their independence, had embargoes placed on them as well, believing that they could make it, and failed spectacularly, trying to copy Norway's success.

On October 3rd, Aksel Magnus appointed himself as the leader of the Church of Norway. On October 4th, he declared himself Pope, and proclaimed that through him, only he could save them from the fires of Hell .

On October 5th, The Pope of the Roman Catholic Church called him a heretic, denounced him, and called for unity in the face of adversity against a singular nation that sought to break the peace that Earth had recently managed since the end of the civil war, freeing them from the Regal Empire.

The next week, Aksel Magnus gained millions of followers because of the events of October 6th.

By October 5th, all of clan Dominus was split into various factions, but most of them went their own ways, preferring to live their own lives and meet up every now and then, just to catch up.

On this day, Asher set a magnificent trap.

All the other families, led by their eldest living siblings, had learned of his resurrection, his new body, and wanted to learn more. Being the diplomat he was, Asher sent out letters, he sent out emails, friendly videos with cute cats and emoji's even, because he learned what a meme was and wanted to tell everyone within a 500-mile radius.

So, they trusted the young man who sent out silly memes and emojis that said:

"Won't you come to my party, UwU?"

How could someone who sent out an email like that be dangerous?

Dangerously stupid, possibly.

They met in an undisclosed location, just the six of them, promising no funny business. Asher decorated the little cabin they met up in, in the middle of the night and was even kind enough to bring drinks. All of them loved him to bits and pieces, he was a wonderful host.

Years of perpetually looking like a child had taught him how to act charming and non-threatening, and it worked wonderfully on a group of born predators.

"You know, your father is a madman," Queen Elizabeth II said. "He refuses to meet with any of us. "

She had brought her 500th pet Corgi with her, Sir Duke Beef Wellington, and he sat on her lap, sleeping and snuggling up to her on the soft red loveseat, in the warm cabin in the woods.

The others, Charlemagne, Karin, Xiomara, and Rasputin, Russia's Famous Love Machine, were enthralled by Asher's tales of Hell.

"It was horrible," Asher whispered. "They made me work at a blood drive, for years. "

"You poor thing," Xiomara lamented. "Those monsters. "

"After that, I would never put anybody through such an act, and so I have graciously extended this gift to you."

Asher opened the fridge in the cottage, not a fridge per se, but an old ice box, with a window to peek inside, and emptied out bags upon bags of blood. He smiled, and said it was an offer of goodwill.

His peers all smiled, their fangs glinting, thinking of how they would skin him alive, and they made many false promises to him, ready to kill him and throw his carcass in a ditch at their first chance.

All the eldest children of the last remaining families left, and the seeds of discord were planted quickly, none the wiser. Asher did not have to wait very long, as all of the eldest children drank of his blood, and they had no choice but to do his bidding, and in turn all of their siblings and children as well.

On October 7th, as the sun was rising over The Unified Peninsula of Korea, Asher told them all to greet the morning sun, it was time for morning stretches and yoga practice, get the blood pumping, good for the heart and all that.

Unwillingly, his victims opened up their doors, and gazed upon the glory of a small star. They were told to walk as far as they could, until their limbs could no longer carry them.

Mrs. Kim was speed walking and waved at her neighbor, who she rarely saw outside, because she was usually working late at night, and she went over to talk to her about the new movie theatre in town that might be built.

"Hana," Mrs. Kim exclaimed. "Good morning!"

Hana burst into flames.

Mrs. Kim raised her hands up, as if her stop stop motions would put out the flames. She ran to go get help, but stopped when another person on the street was walking, silent, taking their death with dignity, his business suit crumbling along with crispy skin, baking in the sunrise.

Mrs. Kim did not have a lot of living neighbors, and her apartment complex caught fire, the street caught on fire, and then her wig, when another walking Molotov cocktail bumped into her.

Her wig was not made of real human hair, she was older and, on a budget, but she ordered the most realistic fake wig, made of kanekalon plastic. Able to withstand most flat irons, but not the cruel heat and anger from the curse of an Old Testament God, Mrs. Kim's wig melted into her skin, and she ran down the street, along with the others, the rest of the town in a panic.

Plumes of smoke could be seen from outer space. Various parts of the world went ablaze as flammable walking bombs walked into specific places.

Banks. Churches. Schools.

Any place that people thought was safe.

The fires were quickly put out once the pattern of the sun's course was what made them understand the cause, but the fear was no longer abstract. A young man had told the world that only he could defend them from hell fire, and then the flames of Hell itself came to greet them at their doorsteps, grocery stores, curbsides, even the corner liquor store.

If not the corner liquor store, what place is sacred?

Asher thought Nymphadora would be so proud of him!

He had kept the meat suits in line, eradicated most of their enemies, and brought back some of their own family's dissidents.

She was not happy.

A party was at Akherst, lots of appetizers were bought in, live and freshly picked. They all turned to look at Nymphadora once when she entered the ballroom, all 487 pairs of eyes turning to look at her, and they smiled.

How nice it is to see you!

We've missed you so much!

How long will you be staying?

The air did not feel exciting, the party calm and refined, no blood on the floor, no bodies maimed.

Everything was so boring.

The finger-appetizers were still literally fingers, but they were on a tray, and Nymphadora was very underdressed for the event, in a standard whatever-shirt was closest in the moment and jeans, a pair of purple flip-flops. She had rushed over immediately once she learned of what her son had done.

Panic was in her throat as George, The Very Unstable Vampire saw her, somehow, from across the vast room, and he was walking, no, running, towards Nymphadora. Thankfully, Asher stepped in to greet his mother, and Nymphadora realized that her son always was over dressed whenever she had the chance to speak to him.

He was wearing regalia he had stolen from the preserved historical portion of the castle, thousands of years of beauty diluted down because someone spilled the blood of a drunk man on Asher's clothing twenty minutes earlier.

"You look nice," she said.

"You came! Did you like what I did?"

"No. Come with me," Nymphadora commanded. "This is important."

They walked through the halls, in an obvious effort to avoid George, now The Very Lonely Vampire, and Nymphadora was not going to sugar coat her displeasure, her anger, at hundreds of years of work vanished in a few days because of his refusal to listen to her.

"You killed all our enemies and scared an entire planet," Nymphadora stated. "Why?"

Asher beamed with pride and beat his chest with his fist. "I only aim for the best," he declared. "I'll do whatever it takes to prove that I, am a man. "

"Wait. You did all this to prove you're a man? "

"N-no. Of course not," he mumbled.

"Asher! You cannot do things like that! Things are different now, we-"

"I know, I know, you tell me every time I see you!"

Asher made a fake mouth with his hand and mocked her. He used a bit of blood on his other hand to draw red fake lips, curled his fist, and squeezed it every time he spoke. Nymphadora gave him a dull look, and immediately saw the connection between Asher and her husband, even though he didn't look much like him.

" YoU cAn'T sCaRe ThE mEaT sUiTs, AsHeR! It RuInS tHe TaSte!"

He snickered, but he pouted when she didn't laugh along.

"Asher, before they could just shoot each other, or bomb each other but now, now all they have to do is look at each other to kill each other, " Nymphadora explained. "They're terrifying. "

Asher was taken aback by her confession of fear. Her fear was real, he could smell it, and she was embarrassed that this had to be said, because she didn't explain to him beforehand the consequences.

"Don't be weak ! No wonder the family is so small now! You have done nothing-"

"I have done everything! I made deals with the idiots you killed , and now everything will come crumbling down," Nymphadora screamed.

Tiny little cracks creeped up on the floors and walls, and the chandeliers above started to shake, little tinkle tinkle tinkles, going off as their shouting death match began.

"They said you and father refused to speak to them, " Asher replied.

"Because they realized too late, they got the shit end of the deal! You're a fool, Asher! Now all the meat suits will come after us once they find out!"

The chandeliers exploded, and the glass cut into their skin. The mirrors in the hallways shattered, the glass doorknobs crumbled, and the castle started to sway and dance.

"They won't-"

"Yes, they will," Nymphadora screamed. "They all untied together under one man , once they had a common enemy. He was so strong during his prime he could kill a single man with one word."

"Who is this man," Asher asked. "Who is this man you fear?"

The small earthquake subsided, the residents of Arkherst crawled out from under their tables, but it was too early.

"It doesn't matter. He's dead."

"Who is he," Asher repeated.

"Please stop. Just listen to me. Leave the meat suits alone, " she demanded. "We have enough to deal with right now!"

"Who is he," Asher screamed. "Who is he!?"

"Don't be like George. Stop ."

Asher threw a tantrum.

He screamed, and Nymphadora screamed back, the world screamed, their family cried, and the air started to churn. The wind whipped into a frenzy, lifting trees, sweeping them up into the sky, circling above Akherst.

Nymphadora ran down the halls, the unstable halls, wobbling, moving, not the foundation, but everything itself. Her body bent like rubber with every step she took, her hair melted into her skin, which was now soft like dough, and she opened her mouth to speak.

Soft bubbles poured out, and she looked at them, they looked right at her, and she was now the bubble, soaring down the wobbling hallway, but she got too close, and then she popped.

Nymphadora was all over the hallway.

Asher stared at his hands, and the walls, and his mother puddled inside his fancy boots. Her body did not leave any parts, just blood and a fine slush of meat on the top of the ceiling, and he looked up.

It fell down, a wet smack, like ground beef, ready to be seasoned, on the chopping board, braised Nymphadora for all to have.

Asher could not cry. He was afraid that someone else would die. He could not grieve, he could not apologize, afraid to speak, and now he was shaking, because there were no friendly voices to tell him that it was okay, and they would always be there for him no matter what.

Everyone had seen what he had done.

Everyone.

No secrets in their family, always connected, Asher could not lie about how she died, and he had no choice but to suffer the consequences. He decided to do just that and made his way to the ballroom.

Slipping every few steps, the Nymphadora smoothie poured over his body, slid into his underpants, down his back, and sometimes left wet smacks as bits of her fell onto the floor.

The only woman who had put up with him for centuries was dead, and he threw her away, and he threw his life away, and there was nothing left for him but the past he was still stuck in.

He opened the ballroom doors to the sea of eyes, and he was now the eldest, the new beacon, and they had no choice but to love him, but something was wrong, he could feel it.

The air smelled like anger, like sadness, grief, disbelief, horror, shock, but the words out of their mouths did not match how they felt about him.

Would you like something to eat?

Are you tired?

How was your day?

Asher sobbed silently, surrounded by unconditional love, and he did not want to be there anymore.

He wished he had died instead.