"Bloody, long day," King George XIX stated in an exasperated tone. "But the final act is fast approaching!"
The middle-aged man had just completed his royal duties for the day and retired to his shared bedchamber with his wife, Elizabeth. His young wife told him that she would bathe before they embraced between the sheets, so he was left alone to think about the night's activities they would soon indulge in.
After six long, exhausting years of marriage, his wife finally agreed to seal their marriage with a passionate night of love-making. She made a promise the night prior. He was finally about to reach full manhood, which meant he would no longer be mocked as the virgin king. She was going to surrender to him in order to give birth to the cutest royal babies known to man!
The king removed the jacket from his suit, exposing his hairless pecs and chiseled back. He hurriedly removed all his remaining clothing and slid beneath the shared bedsheets.
He heard his wife approach. "I must act casual," he thought to himself as he placed one earbud into his right ear, pretending that he was listening to music instead of fantasizing about how a woman's body may feel. As he became lost in his thoughts, he massaged the right side of his smooth, bald head.
As Elizabeth returned to bed after taking a long bath, she was greeted by her husband's manly body, situated under the covers on the opposite side of the bed.
She peeled back the sheets and joined him, running her fingers through her long, blonde hair. A soft smile escaped her pink lips.
Minutes of absolute silence passed as they both stared at a wall. One of George's favorite metal songs began to play on his MP3 player. As the notes began to play, a flash of courage coursed through his veins.
Before long, his ripped body would rest above her smaller frame, ready to finally claim his final piece as the strongest man in the kingdom.
"You are so eager, dear," she purred as one hand stroked the back of his head.
"Eager is downplaying my emotions." The king attempted to act cool, but the nervous flush over his cheeks gave away his real mood.
George leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. His entire body tingled, as the last time he felt those soft lips was on his wedding day.
Elizabeth tied the knot in order to gain power and wealth. She did not want to be an average citizen and just stand by. Her beauty and charisma were more than sufficient to control the king's feelings. She turned down all of her husband's attempts after they shared a kiss to seal their marriage.
Until now...
He hugged his wife, one arm around her slender waist. He quickly flipped their positions.
Elizabeth thrust a dagger into his heart.
The queen sprang off the bed with a nasty look on her face. She opened each window in the bedchamber and began tearing the drapes. She stomped on them before throwing them haphazardly to the ground in front of her.
"My love?" The king whispered, placing his hand around the dagger in his heart.
His vision began to blur as he looked at the blood trickling down his hand. He never knew the woman he married had such a vicious streak, but as a king, one knew anyone could be an enemy.
George didn't think his enemy could be the woman he loved.
Elizabeth laughed manically as she tossed furniture and other items on the floor. She was making it look as if there were a struggle in the room.
He realized then that the woman had plotted to wait for the right moment to kill him so she could claim the throne for herself. If she could make his death seem like a crime, she would rise to become the most powerful person in the land. She would become the beloved queen, with the power to rule over the entire kingdom.
"It's mine now!" She laughed. "I can't believe you fell for my act."
After his wife told the guards that she had just come out of the shower when she saw the intruder leap out the window, She said the intruder assassinated the king. George could hear the guards charging in. She played the part brilliantly, lying through her teeth about the circumstances.
The guards believed her every word.
George started grasping at objects on the nightstand. The only thing he managed to end up with was a BokeBall. It was a reminder of his more innocent times as a child, when he was able to enjoy hobbies with his siblings.
...
...
He could no longer speak. He was going to die a virgin and a failure as a ruler. He had allowed the enticement of Elizabeth to seize the throne from its rightful owner. How could he have failed to recognize her real intentions?
His consciousness turned black.
He died.
George, the dead virgin king.
A King. A virgin. Murdered.
More importantly, he is a virgin.
Yes, he died a virgin. Was that stated?
After the initial darkness, fuzzy lights surrounded his field of vision. Blue-dancing lights were attempting to speak to him. They asked his formless soul what he desired most.
A chance to start over as king?
Perhaps that was the answer, but he would never be conned again.
He would kill his wife before he fell into the trap again.
His clear vision returned after what seemed to be an eternity. He realized he had been lying on a patch of grass when he put his hand underneath him. He was able to hear the music from his MP3 player again, reminding him of his failed attempt at seduction.
He got up, holding onto the Bokeball he had been playing with as he passed away. He ran his free hand through his hair, unstable on his feet.
His hair?
He was bald!
"...what's going on?" He mumbled to himself as his sight returned to normal.
"Ow," he mumbled as he accidentally rammed his hand into a horn.
Don't only goats and demons have horns?
George gazed straight ahead. He was no longer in the palace but stood in an empty forest. Not only that, he noticed other things amiss. He no longer had a luscious beard. He could also find no trace of wrinkles as he ran his fingers over his face. Plus, he was more of a twink as opposed to a strong, brute king.
"What the hell is going on?"
He sighed and took a few steps forward. As he realized he was completely lost, he held up the blue BokeBall in front of him. His face reflected on the shiny surface of his childhood toy.
George was perplexed, as he was now a dashingly handsome young man. His hair was black, messy, and, actually, sexy. It was a stark contrast to the bare, fat scalp he had become accustomed to. His eyes were red and appeared as if they could peer into anyone's soul. If he were a woman, he would want the man he looked at to embrace him and take his body. But he was said body, so he would do the embracing and taking.
He opened his mouth and noticed two long, pearly fangs. "The hell is this?"
As he inspected his appearance, he remembered the voice that surrounded him. It offered him the chance to redo his life. Except, he figured he would return to his previous life and not be reborn into some hot demon.
He laughed, noticing that instead of the gruff belly laugh he had before, his voice was now full of seduction and charm.
"Hmm," he said, raising one eyebrow. "This may be useful. But...I still have no clue where I am."
He took a few steps forward. Then a few more. Several songs from the same band cycled through his mind as he walked. The tree line seemed endless.
George may have been reborn, but if it were in the center of a forest and he died again from confusion and never finding a city, he would not be any better off. He may even die a virgin again, even though he could just find any woman to trap in his charm.
It would be hopeless if there were no women to find.
One black-gloved hand tightly clutched the Bokeball as he heard a rustling in a bush. His sense of hearing seemed heightened in his new body, so he could instantly pinpoint the noise. He realized it would prove no danger to him.
"Come out," he commanded.
A small, fluffy, white bunny appeared from the bush. With its appearance, his throat began to burn. It was a new, hunger-induced sensation. He longed for blood.
Blood?
Both confusion and hunger were present as he glared at the innocent bunny. Before he had a moment to think, he had already latched onto the creature, his fangs sinking into its body.
Blood trickled down his throat and relieved the tension in his body. George was savoring the metallic-tasting meal. He never realized how good warm, hot blood could taste.
He forcefully flung the bunny against a nearby tree and licked the tips of his new fangs. His wife might have been figuratively out for blood in his previous life, while he was literally out for blood in his new one.
Feeling satisfied, he took one step forward when the BokeBall began to vibrate.
As if it had a mind of its own, the BokeBall moved into the air, sucking the small bunny into the interior.
"..."
George stood there, attempting to comprehend the movement of the toy. When it returned to his hand, he gave the ball a swift shake and a small tap.
The ball released the creature, who was now reanimated. Now, instead of being cute and fluffy, the bunny appeared sinister, as the toy ball had somehow transformed it into a new zombie entity.
George kneeled on one knee, extending his hand in the bunny's direction. Without hesitation, the furry undead flew forward and bit his index finger.
The former king jumped up from his position and waved his hand in the air frantically. "You bastard!"
The bunny cowered in fear from the scowl and deep growl emitted by George. "Oh, bite me again, and I'll bash your brains in."
A dark, demonic aura surrounded George's body. He would get what he commanded.
"I shall eat more than just your blood, you vile creature."
He held the ball in front of him like he remembered the characters in the anime doing. With one swift swoop, the zombie bunny returned to the ball.
Maybe it'll come in useful.
It was confusing how a toy now worked to make a zombie animal and how he was spouting lines like an anime villain, but he wouldn't question it. He was already in a different body, so it wasn't worth the effort to think too hard.
He switched his MP3 player to the theme of the anime his toy was based on.
"I'm going to be the very best... at necromancy, it appears," he attempted to sing to the tune of the song. "...doesn't fit.
George was never a poet.
He sighed and proceeded forward through the lush greenery of the forest. When he was ready to give up, George finally made it to the edge of the forest.
He cocked his head to the side. His eyes spotted a large, dilapidated palace in the distance, which reminded him of his own if it had been abandoned for a long time. Along with the crumbled palace, he noticed a young woman sweeping the path in front of a small, cozy cottage, which was a stark contrast to the deteriorating structure he first glanced at.
As he watched the woman attend to the path, his heart began to race. There was a mixture of a demonic desire for possession and a longing for companionship.
"She's so beautiful..." He whispered under his breath.
It was instinct for his body to move forward. One way or another, she would be his—either body or blood.