I pull back the skin.
There is something strange in the way that the skin peels back. It folds over so easily as if the body had already been decaying, but I recall that one of my soldiers had slain this enemy rather recently. It was this morning when I bade my army to march upon the soil. But the flesh underneath was putrid and rotten, as if the carcass had been left out for days. The blood no longer pooled onto the ground and the dirt had soaked in all the blood. It smelled or iron and tasted sweet on my tongue when I sucked in a deep breath. I admired the blood that seemed to squelch underneath my boots. The same way the dirt would get padded with water after a heavy rain. It did not rain all that much in my Kingdom, instead it was rather perpetually cold with a haze of snow. I loved seeing how the blood would paint over the speckle of snow. Sometimes I would draw figures with the blood in the white. I think I liked the snow more than the rain.
I pull back the skin.
I didn’t know what the muscles were called. I did not care to learn those things. But I saw how the veins and muscles ran down the arm. The white tendons. How it mixed with the muscles that were no longer red. They were faded and white. After someone dies the heart stops pumping blood so all the blood weighs down to the lowest point of the body. That is why the body looks so pale. So, the white tendons looked about the same as the muscles. It looked old. Rotten. When I plucked on the strings the fingers would move. Twitching like the body was still alive. My little puppet.
The body felt weird underneath my gloves. I tried not to think about how it annoyed me.
“Sire.”
I plucked the string again and watched how the hand twitched.
“Sire.”
I dug my hand into the tendons and muscles. I wondered how the hand would move now as I made the muscles move.
“… Sire…”
I wasn’t sure if I liked having blood stain my glove or not. I wasn’t sure if I liked the white flesh over the red flesh.
“Your injury—”
I felt a hand grasp my shoulder. Anger. Pain. It all flared over me when I raised my hand from the body and shoved the boy off. I turned to look at him. My sweet little brother. I could see in his eyes he was wanting for something more. I knew that look. I saw how the other women who wanted to be my Queen would stare at me. They were all so boring. Only a fleeting fancy.
“I do not need help.” I noticed that the blood dripped down my glove and onto my armor. I didn’t want to look at a mirror to clean myself. “I will be fine.”
My eyes gazed down upon the arrow that had lodged itself in my upper shoulder. There was my own blood there. I think. Was that my own blood?
I wanted to pull back my own skin.
“At least have a healer look at you…”
I stood upright from the dead body. I did not stare at Ótr. “I do not need a mother for an advisor.” My hand gripped the shaft of the arrow. I pulled. I could feel how the metal pulled my flesh apart. It drew back some flesh and skin. There was blood on the tip of the arrow. It was my own. For some reason I was relieved to see that I could bleed.
“S-Sire!” Ótr rushed to my side.
I tossed the arrow to the side. “Where is Reginn?”
Ótr gaped at me for a moment more. I could see the sweat on his brow. “She went on ahead.” He took an uneasy breath. His eyes kept flicking to the wound. The scent of the battlefield was beginning to become too nauseating. The rot was seeping into the ground. The blood turned this field into a swamp. “I still do not understand why you mean to conquer Askr.”
“I can.” I cradled the wound. The dead’s flesh mixed with my own blood on my glove. I wanted to dig my finger into the hole of flesh. “So, I do.”
Ótr was quiet for a time.
“There are better lands to conquer. Like Embla.”
“You have heard that Askr has a new God.”
Ótr looked back at the wound. Then looked at me.
“I want it.”
Ótr gave me a strange look. “You believe in that?”
“No.” I think about this God. I have heard the stories of this little God. That this God was as beautiful as any God that had ever been born. But I do not care for a fleeting thing of beauty. It only made the pet more enticing to look at. “But it has power.”
He furrowed his eyes at me. I see there is jealousy in his look. I see he envies the infatuation. I smiled at him knowing this. “There are other Gods…”
The bleeding stopped. I feel the weight of the iron on my head grow heavier. “I heard this one was Mortal. Once.”
My brother tried to keep an even expression. In his face he wanted to say something else. He knew how to keep an even look. Knew how to keep his face looking pretty and welcoming as a viper does. But I see through that. I am his brother, after all.
“So were you.” He finally concludes.
“I am not a God.” It is hard to admit it. “What makes this one so special? I should be a God too. But I am not welcomed in their realm like it is.” I step over the body as I head back towards the outpost that my army has staked. Ótr followed closely behind me. “If I own a God, then all other Gods will turn their heads to me.”
Ótr stopped suddenly. I do not turn to look at him as I keep my pace through the rot of bodies that cover the battlefield. “You mean to kill a God?”
“You think I could kill a God?” I threw my head back and laughed.
To see a God dead on my arms. Its beautiful naked flesh over my hands. Its flesh so firmly in my leather gloves. Oh. What a beautiful thing. I would cherish the memory forever in my mind. But even I am not so stupid to think that a Mortal could kill a God. Even with the crown that weighs heavy over my head, I know that those creatures are tricky. Even if it was once Mortal.
“What an intoxicating idea…”
I gazed down at my bloody glove. I test my grip. I think of holding its heart in my hand. I think of bringing its beating heart to my lips and licking it. I think of how its body would move dead. Even if I had never lain eyes on this God, I agree with everyone that this was the most beautiful God of them all. Because I can envision its dead body strewn across my naked body. The blood dripping down my mouth after smearing its blood over my lips. My tongue in its mouth. Ripping out its teeth. Taking a bite from its cheek. Chewing it. Swallowing it. Feeling its soul inside me. Feeling its body writhe on me sharing in its divine brilliance. Me inside of it.
It excites me.
I can feel my own heart against my ribs. I can feel its heart nestled inside me. Taking me over. Possessing me.
“Ótr…” There is a fervor in my voice. I tried to swallow down the surge of emotion. “What do you think of this ‘God’?”
He flicked his eyes someplace else for a moment. Admiring the carnage. Or something else. “They are like any other.”
I stop and turned towards him. Maybe he could see the blush over my face. “As any other…?”
Ótr mulled on that for a moment. There is contemplation. “It was Mortal. Once. So, it is like any other.”
“I suppose so.” I let the words sink into me. I let the imagination of its blood sink into me. My fantasies of it dragging their nails down my body. I think I could feel its mouth over my— “But it would not do if I did not test the theory myself.”
He fixed his gaze on me. My lips quirk in a smile.
“If it was Mortal, once, then it might bleed Mortal.” I can feel its blood pour over me. A waterfall of ecstasy as I drink it all in. “What do you think?”
His lips quirked in a smile.
But I wonder if he wanted the same thing as me. If he felt the same thing as me.
I doubt it to be so.
A chuckle left my lips as I sauntered away. My appetite now ravenous.
I wanted to drink deep in its flesh.
“I will be sure to have the first bite.”