The King's Monster

By Rene Sears

A standalone short story. 

Joseph and Serafina are cabaret musicians with ambitions to play in front of the king of Tirerre. When Joseph acquires a noble patron, their star seems to be on the rise, but a mysterious stranger has taken an interest in them, and not everything is as it seems. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rene Sears
• Release date: Mar 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386921073

Rene Sears

By day, Rene Sears is an editor. By night, or early in the morning, or on lunch breaks, she writes. She is a lifelong reader. She almost got hit by a car once due to walking and reading at the same time, and has since adopted safer reading practices.  Rene enjoys the outdoors and has rafted down the Main Salmon River in Idaho four times. She is also paints and  embroiders, and aspires to one day unite disparate interests by embroidering a book cover. She lives in Birmingham, Al, with her husband, two children, and a dog that may or may not be part Belgian Shepherd. You can find out more about her writing at https://renesears.net.

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THE KING'S MONSTER

A Short Story

by

Rene Sears

Copyright © 2017 by Rene Sears

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

www.renesears.net

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com

The King's Monster/ Rene Sears. -- 1st ed.

Cover design by Plumstone Book Covers

https://thebookcoverdesigner.com/designers/plumstone-book-covers/

For Ben, with gratitude for endless encouragement

THE KING'S MONSTER

Blood dripped from claw to snow.

The monster leaned toward the window, listening. Music and heat strained past the muffling glass, faint light reflecting off sharp crooked teeth, bloody dagger nails. It wished it could go inside, the better to hear it.

The singer inside was tall and dark, oiled curls shining beneath the stage lights, snowy bowtie tied just so above his black evening coat. The pianist shone in a silver dress, rocking toward and away from the keyboard as she hammered out notes. Sounds and smells leaked into the street despite the closed door: Applause; song; applause. Smoke and alcohol, sweat and perfume.

Buildings leaned close to each other like gossiping drunks over the crooked alley. In their shelter, the monster cocked its head, listening intently to the soaring voice, the notes pure even through the glass. The monster wished its claws were not bloody, but the king had commanded it to kill.

The king did not command it to come into this rather shabby district and listen to the singer, but the king did