The king stumbled over the dead bodies of his sentries. He clutched at the wound on his neck, trying to stop the blood from gushing out. They must have killed the guards on their way in; his room door was wide open. The royal scribe had told him something once; your heart can create enough pressure to squirt blood at a distance of thirty feet.
He wondered how many feet his own blood would shoot if he let go for a few seconds. The king ran into his room, but the door refused to shut. He let his eyes drop until he located the problem. The king kicked Kieran's leg out and tried to close it again; it worked. Kieran had been one of his best sentries. It was all a dream; he thought. What he had seen outside, it must have been nothing but an illusion.
He grabbed some napkins from the outline of a table and pushed it against his neck; the blood-soaked through it. It is all a dream; the king knew. It was when he saw the figure sitting on his bed that he knew he was correct. Whatever it was, it wasn't human.
"This is real life, Your Majesty." The creature lisped. The king put the table between him and his assailant, resting his back on the door. Had he been thinking out loud? Where was the door handle when you needed it? His hand searched frantically. He needed to escape this room, fast.
The thing stood up from the bed; it was tall. The light from the window behind cast a long shadow of the beast. The king glanced down. It can't be! He must be going bonkers. The shadow was just a silhouette of a human being, but how?
The tall beastly thing stretched out his hand, the same hand he had sliced the king's neck with. It had claws, Four or Five? He couldn't see clearly enough to count. The king's vision became blurry; he was losing too much blood. The cut on his neck must have been really deep.
"Please," He begged, placing both hands in front of him. There was no squirting of blood, he noticed. "Let me live, for my family."
"They are all dead, we made sure of it." The thing said and raised his hand, claws extended. "Now close your eyes and prepare to meet them ... again."
"Who sent you?" The king lowered his head, sobbing. "Give me that privilege, the right to know. Tell me this, who sent you?"
"Your own blood sent me." The thing said and then lowered the claw to complete his job.