He ruled the world with an iron fist and a stony heart, an apathetic frown plastered to his face. Power had come as an innate cursed gift to this king. Unable to relate to his subjects, to his peers, to his lovers, he accepted his position as a god on earth; they were all subordinates to him.1
Although he sometimes fervently longed to be a simple subject, survival his only purpose, someone needed to keep the charade of illusions from shattering. To keep the painful wishes, dreams at bay, he practiced self-deception, ordering himself to believe what he needed to. Still, he was constantly overwhelmed by emptiness; he paced, nervous, calculating, through his life, barren of joy despite all the riches, servants, and other forms of immediate gratification that came with being King. 2
Unloved. No one cared for his wellbeing. Paranoid, he hid himself from his people, his sparse family and so-called comrades in his magnificent castle, built up so high it cast an ominous shadow over his small world.3
It suited him to have no human interaction whatsoever; it was good for him, even. Or that’s what he told himself. He welcomed the belligerent voices that invaded his mind with surprising brutality. After so many years of silence in his self-imposed exile, they were a relief. Unconsciously, he allowed himself to be overtaken by himself, his own twisted mind. The voices, echoes of the brutal side of his being, swiftly took control of the little sanity he had managed to retain and, within a few months, he lost himself completely.4
Fear lead to anger. Due to the fact that he had no one to blame but himself for the atrocities he had committed to his soul and to his people who remained outside his high walls, unprotected, he, or rather the voices, decided that it was their fault. ‘They’ were every woman, man, child, beast that had ever refused to love him. They were at fault for turning him into this twisted shadow. This logic appeased him for he’d never really liked being responsible, whether it was for his people or for himself. As a leader, the fault was always his; it was nice to have it lifted off his shoulders and onto theirs. 5
He grinned to himself as the poisonous hate that coursed through his veins consumed his every thought, his every action. Revenge was his favorite subject during the discourses he’d have with The Voices, with himself. For the first time in his bleak life, he felt a sense of purpose as he planned his enemies’ undoing. The Voices explained what would hurt them most. He readily agreed to their proposals.6
Men and women alike shrieked with shocked horror, the ghastly scene before them swimming before their eyes as ghoulish proof that all was lost. “No!” they cried, shrieked, collapsing to their knees7
“Mommy?” young children murmured tentatively, refusing to accept what their eyes told them was inevitably true, “what happened to his face? Why is it…”8
An elderly couple held each other tight, holding up themselves with a harmonious love that would not be crushed, not even by this calamity, not by the end of the world. “We’re so, so sorry,” they murmured to the King’s soul as it rose from his torn, bloody shell, up, up into he heavens. With one final look on his world, the King could not bring himself to hate it, to hate his loyal subjects. Though he had exacted his revenge on them, he felt no sense of joy, no triumph. Regret and perhaps something almost like happiness touched his weary soul. A hint of a smile crossed his lifeless lips, and he was gone. 9
Author notes
I started writing this as I listened to Viva La Vida by Coldplay. Comments are much appreciated. Thanks. =]
Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think.
Comments
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I kept losing my way in the enormous block of text that made up the first paragraph. It could really do with being broken up somewhat.
In the strict sense of "being a story" since this is storywrite, this suffers very much from telling rather than showing. In "literature" it's better to describe the scenes and actions and have the readers draw their own conclusions about the motives and insights (it also flatters the reader's intelligence).
But, this piece is something other than a traditional story. I'm really not sure what to make of it; but I think the concept is fantastic, but the execution is flawed.
Was it intentional to have the "voices" become capitalised into a proper noun "Voices" half way through the piece? If so, well done, it's a nice, subtle touch.
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Thanks! I broke the first paragraph up a bit and it seems easier to to read that way.
I know what you mean by saying I do a lot of "telling" in this story. That's because right now I'm trying to figure people out, trying to understand what makes them feel certain ways; this was my attempt to get into a somewhat "crazy" person's head. I'll try to make some changes though.
I'm glad you like the concept on my unstorylike story. Please advise on how I could fix it-- is it the way it's written, the content..?
It was intentional to capitalize "Voices". Thanks
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Since you asked for advice...
Imagine the first sentence replaced with a whole scene, described below, but in need of turning into an actual scene..
A humble peasant is ushered into the King’s court. The King listens to his case and hears the opposing petition from one of his own nobles. Disinterestedly (with an apathetic frown?) he prepares to pass judgement on the case, until one of his advisors comes to him and points out that if neither party wins, the property in dispute will pass to the crown. Suddenly the King takes an interest in the case and quickly fabricates a reason to exile both the peasant and the nobleman, so enriching his own exchequer. When the nobleman objects, the King has him executed there and then by his own personal bodyguard.
So, how’s that for an “iron fist and a stony heart”?
Then, in the next paragraph, instead of “longing” to be normal, he could dress in humble clothes and frequent the city’s seedy bars to carouse with the citizenry. But, always stopping before becoming too intimate with them (refusing requests to go back to continue drinking at his home…for obvious reasons) he fails to make any friends and remains isolated and alone.
I wouldn’t use “magnanimous” in this piece, I think you meant “magnificent” since magnanimous means generous.
Then, instead of saying “barren of joy despite all the riches, servants, and other forms of immediate gratification” you could describe a scene in which he is served up the finest foods and one tiny part of it is served wrong or tastes bad. Then, he loses his temper and has a chef or waiter punished (something brutal, like having a hand cut off).
Hopefully, you get the idea from these suggested examples. -
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Thank you very much! This is extremely helpful.
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Very impressive! The descriptions in this are fantastic...
One sentence which particularly grabbed my attention was this:
He ruled the world with an iron fist and a stony heart, an apathetic frown plastered to his face.
And, conveniently, that was your very first sentence...
One thing tho: I would say space the first paragraph out a little, because it's os long that it's difficult to get through.
Other than that, nice work =]
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Thanks! I tried spacing out the first paragraph so hopefully it's easier to read now.
I'm glad you liked the descriptions!
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oh my gosh!!! favorite song in the world!!! And this story carries the mood so incredibly well...a very worthy read. The end is so satisfying.
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Thanks! I'm thrilled that you like the ending.
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