A slight breeze clung on the air, keeping the staleness of the swamp at bay, at least momentarily. Soon, he wouldn’t need worry about the swamp, or about his domain expanding too far or too wide. It would be easy to keep rge swaths of the nd under his thumb. Every man would work for him, or be built into the ever-expanding Basilica, and every woman would bear him more children to serve him and carry out his will upon the world.

  Red embers sizzled as he inhaled the cigar smoke, letting a deep breath out; a plume of smoke escaping his lungs and rising into the ceiling, carried off into the night by the invisible breeze. He sat in the highest room of his chapel, the balcony doors open, letting the breeze carry the stale air away into the swamp’s night sky. His eloquent chambers, where all his bureaucrat business was conducted, was all constructed of bone. Every chair, shelf, desk, and bed, made of the bones of his enemies. Below, he watched in inquisitive amusement as his busy little workers carried out his tasks to perfection.

  Sves were chained together, carrying sacks of meat to the carts to be traded off to vilges, those of which were unknown to the fact that they were eating the flesh of their captured peers. The bones left out and woven into more buildings so that the Basilica des Bone could grow ever rger, so that his chapel could reach into the sky itself, and then, no being would be above him.

  He was to be a god, after all. He couldn’t let anyone else stand above him, not even his fellow gods.

  The Bone Doctor took a sip of wine from his skull chalice, his favorite chalice. The milky white eyes inside moved side to side, trying to escape, but it was forever trapped here with him, just like all his favorite pets.

  He set his bare feet, skin worn down to bone and tendons, up on his ottoman. It was a perfect little piece of furniture, made by his finest bone smith. Four legs were woven together into a ribcage, the head still attached and hanging off the side, bobbing around like an apple in water. His back shifted side to side as he snuggled into his favorite chair, made of those who lived in this swamp before he came to cim what was his. They put up a good fight, but could not match his might. Now, the whole family made up his sittery, husband, wife, daughter, and son, all for primed his rexation.

  Snakes slithered beneath him across the bone floor. A smile crept over his white-painted face as he gazed out onto his domain. Dambalh had blessed him, and soon he would join the serpent in all its divine glory.

  The Bone Doctor’s bck lips cracked and bled as he took another puff of his cigar, holding in the smoke long enough to down his wine. He let the smoke out as he spoke, “More wine, mes enfants.” He shook his skull goblet at the creatures lurking in the corner.

  He admired his children as one lumbered over, hobbling about from its mutations. Stretched, scaly skin, random bones jutting out of the flesh, an array of mismatched limbs, drooling mouths, and dangling tongues, they truly were hideous little things, but they were his hideous little things. His children as it were, and he was so very proud of his children. What wasn’t to be proud of? He made them after all.

  The creature carefully held the chalice in its slimy hands, hobbling over to the decanter on his desk. It was studious as to not to shake too much while pouring the wine. He watched in amusement at the thing. It understood his orders well, especially after a little tough love. A couple beatings and the things obeyed his every command without hesitation.

  And why wouldn’t they obey him? He was a God after all.

  It hobbled back, the wine sloshing about, spilling around the edge of the chalice, dripping down into the milky white eyes. The chalice tried blinking the wine away, its brow furrowing in pain.

  The Bone Doctor ughed. They weren’t perfect children, but they were his. That’s all that mattered. He had created this life, and he would cherish it.

  He grabbed the chalice and wiped it clean on his bck suit jacket, adding to the building grime. “Thanks, belle,” He tipped his top hat and rose the chalice to his crusty, white painted lips.

  Heavy huffs and puffs rang out from the corner. His children were getting rambunctious. The Bone Doctor reached behind him, grabbed a severed arm, the flesh still attached, and tossed it over to the group, watching as they all pounced in on the meat, ripping wads of flesh off with their mangled teeth. Moaning and groaning, chomping and lips smacking, the creatures feasted.

  They would feast upon the nd soon enough, their unsatiable appetite unleashed on the world, once he had enough soldiers to maintain his kingdom. He was no fool. History was full of leaders who stretched their nds too far and their soldiers too thin. He would not repeat their mistakes.

  The Bone Doctor stood from his chair, smacking the heads of those who dared defy him, “Sit tight now.” He chuckled as he passed his children fighting over the scraps.

  He leaned up against the balcony frame, letting the breeze hit his painted face. Serpent eyes watched those below. A sve fell to the ground, unable to stand, worked to the bone, quite literally. A Bck Guard whipped him a few times, shouting for him to stand.

  A smile spread across his face. The Bck Guard were well trained and served him well as his protectors. Freed men that swore an oath to the one who syed their captors, and gave them the will to live. A very, very, long time ago that was. He had lost track of exactly what year it was, but the memories were still sweet.

  Unable to stand, the sve was drug off by the Bck Guard. It would soon be joining the rest of the useless things and built into his Basilica. “Take him to the Butcher! Walter will cleave him up real nice!” The Bck Guard shouted as he turned to whip the rest of the sves into action.

  His vision was about complete. Nothing could stop him now. He would be God and all would bow before him. The Bone Doctor took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes and imagining his world with him atop it, feelings of joy and pride raced through him.

  Screams erupted from the main gate.

  His eyes shot open. The Bone Doctor’s smile faded. Rage rising inside him as his rexation was interrupted by something that would soon be punished. What was causing his anger?

  He watched as sves and his privileged citizenry ran from the gate, heading for the chapel, looking over their shoulders as the ran for their lives. Bck Guards ran to the scene, dropping what they were doing, and brandishing their weapons.

  Something was amiss. His serpent eyes could see the main gate bashed open, swinging broken on its hinges. Behind it, a bck, armor-cd figure was there, wielding a massive axe, and cutting down his Bck Guard.

  Invaders? How dare they come into his domain and test his strength. Surprising that they had the courage to face him, but nothing he hadn’t handled before. Now, he had even more power up his sleeves to dish out to his enemies.

  “Hmm.” No one had attempted to attack the Basilica in over a hundred years. His hand caressed his favorite chalice. He looked over at his children. Maybe now would be a good time to test out their might.

  “Mes enfants, now is the time! Go forth and kill the intruders! Bring me their bones and make papa proud.”

  The creatures howled out, a shrieking scream, shrill and sharp. They took off on all fours, some sprinting out of the room to fetch their siblings, others jumping over the balcony and climbing down the side of the chapel below.

  His chalice blinked at him, defying him with a stern gaze. The Bone Doctor looked back to the gate, examining the bck-armored figure, realizing what had come to his front door.

  A Death Knight here, and now, when he was so close to ascending into godhood. A shiver shot down through his spine. A strange feeling crept into his mind. He shook his head. Death would not find him tonight.

  The God of Death must be watching him closely to send a knight at this exact moment. Fttering, and insulting, but this Death Knight would be no more successful than the st.

  The Bone Doctor took a sip of wine from this chalice, turning the eyes to see the intruders at the gate, “Looks like your coward god has sent another. You two can keep each other company.” He chuckled, “I could always use a new end table.”

  He rose his chalice, “To mes enfants, and to being a God.”

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