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She was still beautiful.
Even as her form twisted and shattered into fractals of ebony pain, as iridescent eyes bloomed from every surface of her body, as she contorted and expanded and wildly swung at the walls, fear becoming anger in a flash of rainbow light—
She was still beautiful. She was still his queen.
A distorted growl shook the air as Queenie thrashed about, pulverizing the plush pillows of her bed. Shreds of velvet blankets and bedding pooled around her like viscera, as wood splintered and sagged under her weight. She seemed obsessed with digging downwards, pummeling jagged paws into the bed with a crazed desperation.
And it was the wild look in her eyes that finally snapped Kinger from his stupor. She was gorgeous, yes, but she was hurt . He had to do something, say something, anything—
“Queenie?”
In an instant, every eye snapped to stare at Kinger. She stood statue-still, betraying no signs of recognition.
Kinger gripped the hem of his robe with the strength of a vice. “My queen, I…”
Her pupils were slowly contracting, inky form shifting under the glow of the chandelier that illuminated her room.
“Please… please… ” Kinger wasn’t certain what he was asking for. Forgiveness? Affirmations? For all of this to be one terrible nightmare?
Slowly, deliberately, Queenie began to creep forward. Lower herself closer to the ground.
Or maybe it was strength he needed. Strength to accept this, accept her. He could never, would never, leave her side, in sickness or in health —
He started running moments before she pounced.
Tears obscured Kinger’s vision, blurring the searingly bright colors and shapes into a swirling maze. He had no idea where he was headed, or why he was running at all. But he couldn’t stop .
A distorted scream rang out from behind him, and the thrumming of Queenie’s four-legged sprint followed close behind. That sound, that uneven rhythm, almost reminded Kinger of a frantic heartbeat.
Exiting the hallway, Kinger skidded into the main stage area. He frantically swiveled left and right, searching for anywhere to hide. When his eyes landed on a small structure that screamed safety , he bolted in its direction before his mind could truly register the meaning.
It was only when his shaking hands swung the plush door open that he realized where he was. And, for a moment, hesitated.
White-hot pain exploded across his back as Queenie slammed into him. He flew into the pillow fort, hitting the other side with an audible thud . Momentum carried Queenie forward as well, trapping them together as the door swung shut behind them. The searing sensation was spreading along Kinger’s entire body, and he watched with blurred vision as his form glitched and corrupted.
Lifting his gaze, Kinger found Queenie’s eyes erratic and unfocused, independently darting from each corner of the room as she searched for something. What she was looking for, Kinger had no clue— and, in his sorry state curled up in a ball of agony on the floor, he was powerless to help her. Tears streamed from his eyes as they involuntarily squeezed shut. Watching Queenie suffer, knowing what happened to her and that he had done nothing to help, hurt far more than the corruption of his body.
…Far, far more, actually. His body didn’t hurt at all.
Kinger dared to open one of his eyes, stealing a glance at Queenie. Her glowing pupils were larger now, drifting slowly around the room. Her form was smaller, too, small enough to fit comfortably within the fort. Even her jagged edges had begun to smooth out…
Kinger pushed himself up to his feet. “Oh, Queenie…”
She was radiant . Her eyes connected with his own, and Kinger felt himself warm up under her glowing gaze. Almost automatically, his hand began to float upwards. The glove slid perfectly into place in a spot between her eyes, cupping her cheek with an aching familiarity. A strange sensation coursed through his palm, halfway between a rush of electricity and the tingle of pins and needles. Still, his form didn’t waver. They were safe.
Queenie’s eyes followed the hand, before drifting closed. Kinger exhaled, beginning to rub circles into her cheek with his thumb. Anything he could do, any small comfort he could provide, he was willing.
Something pricked at the edge of his eye, and a hollow feeling echoed in his chest. Did he even deserve to hold her, after he’d failed her so horribly? How selfish, how arrogant must he be—
His thoughts skidded to a halt as the tingling sensation bloomed across his forehead. Queenie had leaned into him, nuzzling herself against him like a friendly cat. She took a step forward, eyes opening slightly. Her half-lidded expression was so tender, so full of love—
A strangled sob left Kinger’s throat, and he threw himself into Queenie with reckless urgency. Queenie stumbled back into the plush walls, surprised, as Kinger buried his face in her satin-smooth form. Once she had time to recover, though, she reciprocated the embrace by shifting onto her haunches and wrapping her front legs around him. The buzzing sensation grew as Queenie began to hum out a soft, comforting noise.
They stayed like that for a long time, yet it still felt like too soon when Kinger pried his face away and looked into his beloved’s eyes once more. “I…” I can’t do this without you. I’m nothing without you. Please don’t leave me alone…
But he knew in his heart that Queenie would never stand that. So instead, he took one of her front paws in his hands and wiped the final few tears from his eyes. “I’m going to miss you.”
Queenie’s eyes closed again, and she pulled him inwards with another low hum. With a start, Kinger found himself sinking into her digital body, accompanied by the tingling sensation spreading across his entire form. He shivered as he clipped through her inky skin and emerged into the liminal space within her.
Kinger soon found himself surrounded on all sides by darkness, yet it seemed the opposite of a stygian void– it was so full, of pulsing life, of his queen . The walls began to tighten around him, and he felt himself leaning into her embrace. It began to squeeze him, undulating in such a manner to simulate a soft stroking sensation. Kinger whimpered.
A rumble like thunder sounded from all around him as Queenie responded to his plea. Kinger felt something touch the top of his cross; though he couldn’t see anything, he could clearly picture the tendril of ebony that slinked around the base, rubbing circles into it in a familiar pattern. He could almost picture it as her gloved hand, until the tendril sprouted into two and began to encircle the cross with a wonderful squeezing sensation. He reminded himself that Queenie wasn’t who she once was.
And God, he loved her regardless.
More tendrils sprouted from the walls, snaking over his body, skirting the edges of his robes before diving underneath the fabric. The gentle sensation against his wood made him moan, hands bracing himself against the walls. The tendrils tightened, pulling him closer into the walls, squeezing the panting breaths out of him.
Kinger buried his face into her, tasting electricity on his nonexistent tongue. She smelled like a thunderstorm, ozone and rain and earth mingling together. He rubbed his face against her, moved his hands wildly, thrashing and scratching in a lovestruck craze. Queenie’s body let out another purr, long and slow and forceful enough that Kinger vibrated with her desire.
More tendrils extended from the walls, catching Kinger’s frantic hands and giving them a squeeze. Kinger grabbed them in eager retaliation, then gently began to pull. He faced a bit of playful resistance as Queenie chittered around him, the tendrils around his body tightening with excitement. In a moment of glee, Kinger gave in to the game of tug-of-war, allowing himself to be pulled inwards before stretching back. He rocked from one side of her to the other, each brush giving him a new burst of tingling bliss. The pair held each other, swaying to a rhythm known only to them, in some sort of dizzying dance.
Kinger wasn’t sure how long he stayed within her– eternity wouldn’t have been long enough. Finally breaching her surface once more felt like stepping out of a warm bath, cool air and solemn reality washing over him all at once. It took Kinger a moment to adjust to the brightness of her eyes, but even as he blinked away sunspots he found he couldn’t tear his gaze from hers.
And, for the briefest of moments, despite knowing otherwise– he felt it could work. That they could stay here, forever, or until he too went mad and lost himself and fully melted into one with his lover. They could make this work,
He didn’t leave her side. He
wouldn’t
leave her side. Never again.