Warrior Princess

by Sebastien Woolf

  “Alright, quieten down everyone,” came a voice from the shadows. The withered old man with a bird like face hushed the crowd. “Your leader will now pass judgement.”

  Martin stepped forward to address the throng. He was a thin man, early fifties, not overly tall and quite normal looking. The black t-shirt he wore had the logo of the 4Horsemen establishment emblazoned brightly upon it, which made him appear the same as almost every other person in the room. Nothing about him made him stand out at all except for his demeanor, his swagger clearly indicating that he was indeed someone of much importance. A leader, their leader.

  He began in a cold, menacing tine, which chilled most of those in the room. “We are here tonight to conclude the trial of this wretched soul for treason.”

  Turning his head he stared at the accused, giving the young woman a viscous, callous stare. Her eyes failed to blink as she simply gazed back at him without emotion. It was a look of utter contempt.

  “We must all understand the importance of God’s word in these dark times, for it has been foretold of the coming of the end of the world.” Opening his Bible to Revelations he read to the gathering, “For they are spirits of demons, performing signs, which go out to the kings of the whole world, to gather them together for the war of the great day of God, the Almighty.”

  “We live together as one people with simple rules, rules that have been put in place to ensure we live according to how our Lord God intended us to. Stealing, abandonment, betrayal, leaving one’s post and putting the lives of others at risk are crimes that are not tolerated!”

  Murmuring bubbled within the gathering.

  “It is written in Matthew,” Martin said, waving his bible in his right hand, “brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise up against parents and cause them to be put to death.”

  “Amen!” came the response from a few. The vast majority of the others were simply too shell-shocked with the night’s proceedings to speak.

  “We have amongst us a traitor, someone who has betrayed us and betrayed our Lord God Almighty. She is accused of stealing supplies from you and plotting to abandon us and leave the flock in order to live amongst the savages and heathens. They are an abomination, a plague on this earth. Actions such as these cannot ever be tolerated.”

  A collective sigh engulfed the air in the room.

  Gritting his teeth Martin passed his judgment. He was in no mood for pleasantries and dealt a swift, heavy blow to send a clear message. “Punishment shall be according to God’s law – she shall be put to death!”

  “Noooo!” screamed Siobhan, tears welling in her large emerald green eyes.

  Martin glared at the Irish girl before nodding to two large men who stood over the accused woman. At once the oafs obeyed, lifting Lisette to her feet before unceremoniously dragging her from the room. Seemingly unfazed the young girl with the red hair maintained her composure, turning her head in the direction of her lover mouthing the words, ‘I love you’.

  A look of dread consumed Siobhan’s face, there was nothing she could do to save her friend, not a single thing. Martin’s word was final amongst the group and she knew to dispute his decision was to sign her own death warrant. As she watched Lisette being taken away she felt part of her sink inside, knowing that this was the last time she would ever see the person she loved more than life itself. A big chunk of her would die with her friend that night.

  Minutes ticked by with a heavy hand on the clock, making them feel like hours as everyone inside the bar waited for the sentence to be carried out. They knew it was coming and when the guttural screams eventually pierced the silence in the badlands that night, each of them shivered with fear and hung their heads in sorrow. Echoes reverberated loudly, racing through the wastelands alerting and awakening anyone or anything that might be out wandering in the darkness.

  Lisette craned her neck to stare at the open wound to her stomach, clutched at her innards trying desperately to hold them together. Blood seeped through her fingers, running freely onto the sidewalk where she sat, creating a crimson red puddle which glistened brightly in the moonlight. The ropes that bound her constricted her movements and she was unable to do little more than sit and wait for her impending doom, enduring unmeasurable pain as she slowly began to bleed out.

  Martin insisted on brutal forms of punishment in order to maintain order within the group. He felt the more vicious the punishment the greater the deterrent it would be for those others who were contemplating breaking the rules in a similar way. He was ruthless and unrelenting in the way he managed his people, with an iron fist that was both uncompromising and barbaric, despite his obvious religious beliefs. No-one dared question him under any circumstances for fear of retribution.

  The scent of death wafted on the night breeze, attracting every bloodthirsty beast in close proximity. Rotted, decaying heads twitched and turned, sniffed at the air, their grotesque bodies responding as they heeded the call. Lisette’s screams pinpointed her location on their instinctive internal navigation system, drawing them in like moths to a flame. Reanimated corpses slowly came back to life and began to fill the streets, staggering and shuffling forward. On they came, many of them showing signs of serious degeneration and decomposition, skin flaking and peeling from their bones.

  Unable to bear it any longer Siobhan ran to a back room and locked herself in total darkness. She fought hard to block out the sounds of her best friend and lover’s screams, which continued into the night until the creatures finally tore her apart, ending her young life. Never had either girl experienced such loss and such insufferable pain.

  Amidst the silence that followed Siobhan wept openly, morning the loss of the one person on this God-forsaken earth that she loved, adored and cared for. Martin had taken from her the one person who had given her life purpose, it was heart-wrenching and she immediately felt a huge hole open up inside her – a chasm of despair. For the first time that she could remember she felt alone, vulnerable and scared.

  Biting down hard Siobhan ground her teeth together forcing veins in her neck to protrude visibly. Clenched her fists together so tight the bones in her knuckles threatened to break through her skin. She shook with fear, allowing emotion to fester and bubble, urging it to quickly turn to rage and anger.

  A fire burned deep within her, fury, a wrath like no other she had ever felt and at that moment she cursed those responsible, vowing retribution. It would take time but she knew what she had to do in order to avenge the death of her friend.

  You mother-fuckers! You will pay, if it is the last thing I fucking do! You will pay with your lives!

  4

  Innocence Lost

  In the days that followed the mood at the 4Horsemen was sombre to say the least. Tensions were high and every one of the residents was on edge, walking on eggshells careful not to say or do anything that may draw attention to themselves. Laying low was the tactic most employed, and to good measure too.

  Lisette’s death had cast a dark shadow over the group, providing them with a very stark reminder of the harsh nature of this new world, and the people in it. Their leader had more than proven how stoic he was in his beliefs and how brutal, ruthless and uncompromising he could be in his punishment of those who would dare break the rules. With his new law now set in stone Martin had forced his followers into a cult-like submission, dominating their ever move.

  Church services would become compulsory, with Martin using this oratory platform to force his will onto his people through carefully scripted sermons. Scouts and search parties were sent into the wastelands to scour the barren city for survivors. They were charged with the delivery of one simple message – join God’s army, or die right there and then in the badlands.

  Over the course of the next month numbers began to swell as the scouting parties returned with more and more people, fodder for Martin’s evil master plan. Every room filled quickly and before long the 4Horsemen Bar & Grill w
as bulging at the seams with this influx of new followers; parishioners.

  Siobhan lunged and with a sickening crunch the blade of the long sword she wielded drove straight through the skull of an advancing creature. Dull, lifeless eyes closed forever as the undead male’s cranium was split in two. Dirty crimson colored blood oozed from the wound, running down his face onto his white t-shirt. Withdrawing the blade she swung hard in an arc, connecting with his neck severing the head clean from the body. Maintaining her pose she stood and watched as it rolled and wobbled down the road.

  She had been struggling of late, with everything and everyone around her, for the burden she carried was heavy and the pain inside was so fierce she often found it difficult to breathe. Never before in her young life had she experienced such intense feelings of grief and loss, they consumed her, ate at her, tormented her every minute of every day.

  Seething with hate and anger the petite, tattooed Irish girl with raven hair had unleashed her fury on the road, honing her skill with sword, massacring the undead. Creatures everywhere fell in her path as she executed a range of rehearsed maneuvers, lunging, slashing, cutting and thrusting. She allowed them to get close enough in order for her to perfect her ability to dodge, sidestep and evade, thus becoming the ultimate fighting machine.

  She always fought alone, preferring to vent and train without an audience, which had proven difficult at times as Martin rarely allowed anyone to leave the premises unaccompanied. Siobhan would often go on ahead of her assigned companion when on patrol, scouting and unleashing hell on the undead in solo attacks. Hundreds perished to her sword, yet still not one of their deaths eased her pain in any way.

  Heavy was her heart, but heavier was the massive weapon she wielded. The huge two-handed great sword she carried had once hung proudly over the bar at the place of her former employer, the 4Horsemen Bar & Grill. Whilst the establishment was an Irish pub, the owner had no qualms about hanging the Scottish variant of this late medieval two-handed sword on display. No-one ever questioned the mixup and up until when the world had turned, it had merely been nothing more than an exhibit on the wall.

  Siobhan loved the feel of this weapon in her hands and despite it being exceptionally heavy, she was now managing to wield it with accuracy and poise. Toned, fit and a lot stronger than she looked Siobhan had tamed it, become one with it and learned how to channel her energy through the large, sharp double-edged blade.

  As the days she spent in combat passed Siobhan become battle hardened, tough, strong, resilient and bold. There was nothing left in her life except this, a daily ritual which allowed her to channel her rage and passion in a way that allowed it to become almost manageable. She had changed, becoming shamelessly seasoned, rugged and totally badass. No-one at the compound messed with her in any way as she quickly became renowned for her exploits and reclusiveness.

  Night after night Siobhan was tormented in her dreams by memories of Lisette, the image of her girlfriend consuming her, haunting her. Love, lust, desire, friendship… it had all been lost and she felt it deeply, churning and tearing her apart from the inside out. She withdrew, kept to herself, much preferring her own company and she slept alone every night away from the others.

  There was a growing disconnect between her and the rest of the group, a vast chasm in fact that had opened up between them that was widening by the day. She hardly spoke, when she did she was curt and abrupt, conversations lasting for all of a brief few words. Sentences were rare and others in the group learned to keep their distance from her. A darkness had come over this once bubbly, effervescent girl, her grief ever present in her demeanor and actions.

  Due to the large numbers that were now residing at the 4Horsemen Bar & Grill, Martin decided it was necessary for them to move on to a bigger location in another part of town. An exodus of sorts had seen the vast majority of those who had been taking shelter there disappear within days. At first Siobhan did not care much for where they went, for as long as they were gone she was happy, but as time went on not knowing would come to make her life hell.

  Siobhan elected to stay behind with several others to man this outpost, which would remain a stop off point for scouts and foragers when they ventured near. Not long afterwards she executed her escape plan, vanishing in the dead of night undetected, taking refuge in another part of the neighborhood where she knew no-one would ever find her. This was a firm smack in the face for Martin who was left fuming, his leadership immediately being tested and questioned by many in his cult.

  Incensed, the leader of the newly named 4Horsemen group vowed to run her down and he acted swiftly placing a generous bounty on her head which, in a flurry of fury and rage extended to a ‘dead or alive’ warrant. He was seething, sending out scouts to track her down on a daily basis all to no avail. In no time at all Siobhan became the bane of his very existence, whom he presented as the poster child of everything evil in Sunday sermons to whip his followers into a frenzy.

  It was lonely in the badlands, totally desolate giving off the vibe of total abandonment. Eerily quiet at times, especially at night the dead city would often play tricks with your mind. Shapes would appear and then vanish just as quickly into the shadows, sounds would echo through the streets making it impossible to pinpoint their location. Nowhere was safe for danger lurked at every vantage point and could be upon you in the blink of an eye.

  Siobhan knew she had to keep moving in order to stay alive, never sleeping in the same location more than once. The threats to her life had been amplified since fleeing the 4Horsemen, she was running from the undead whilst being stalked, hunted and pursued relentlessly by Martin’s henchmen at the same time.

  After weeks on run she eventually found what she was looking for, a sanctuary of sorts. Rain water that had filled the now algae ridden fountain at the front of the building rippled in a slight breeze. Four massive pillars greeted her as she stepped into a grandiose forecourt, which spoke volumes for the riches that once lay beyond. Despite everything around her now laying in ruin, Siobhan was convinced this was an ideal location for her to hideout, at least for a while.

  Ok babe, place your bets!

  Siobhan stepped through the large doors into darkness.

  5

  Lioness in Wait

  Siobhan’s slender fingers caressed the silver pen, holding it in place as it finished scribbling the first name on the list. Blue ink blotted on the rough parchment as the nib began to wobble under the full downward pressure that was being exerted on it. A large round stain blobbed at the feet of the lowercase letter n, taking on the appearance of an overgrown full stop.

  With a heavy sigh she gritted her teeth at the thought of Martin and everything he stood for and had done. She continued to write, it was a daily ritual she had endured in order to firmly cement and picture in her mind every single person who would feel her wrath as she exacted revenge for what happened to her friend and lover.

  Never before had Siobhan felt so desperately alone, laying awake night after night completely heartbroken and ruined, her heart crumbling at the very thought of her loss. Each time she closed her eyes she saw their faces, the judges, jurors, killers and murderers who were still able to walk freely on this earth, unpunished and remorseless. Consumed by unrelenting rage and a burning desire for vengeance, she swore that their last breaths were coming, damned if she would let them live out the year!

  She knew each of them by name and had memorized the list off by heart, with the man she hated more than anything in this world always appearing at the very top. Each time she wrote the list she felt the same way, seething with anger and rage desperately wanting to start her rancorous campaign immediately. She was beginning to learn how to control the fury within her, it simply had to be mastered and channelled if she was going to be successful.

  Martin’s wife Holly also gained a mention on the list, as did all the officials and loyal henchmen who served this evil bastard so obediently. The two oafs who murdered Lisette directly
were obviously there and Siobhan had decided that it was these two who would be the first to feel her wrath and taste her retribution. With the exodus she was unable to complete any part of her task of clearing her list just yet, but she had become more determined than ever to track them all down.

  Months had now passed and with the changing of seasons the wastelands became a dust bowl. Warmer, longer days allowed for extended foraging times, which presented new dangers and threats than in the dark winter months. Being out on the barren, dangerous streets longer not only meant greater exposure to creatures, but also to those who continued to hunt her.

  Piercing the lid of a can of baked beans the raven haired girl dressed all in black adjusted her dark plaid skirt, sat and proceeded to cook herself up her evening meal. Simplicity, that was the nightly menu in these tough times and anything edible she could get her hands on she savored, taking the time to embellish each meal as best as she could so as to add to the flavor.

  Sliding a spoonful of the overcooked beans into her mouth, she chewed them slowly forcing herself to enjoy each mouthful, dreaming of caviar as she devoured her dinner just to help it go down. It was as far from that delicacy as possible and hers was no Master Chef kitchen, more Hell’s Kitchen with emphasis on the devilish location.

  Tossing the empty can aside it rattled dully as it collided with all the others that lay waste in the corner of the room. Spaghetti, beans, corn, SPAM… hardly food fit for a banquet, or a warrior princess, but it was still food. The girl had to eat and this was all she was able to find in her daily foraging. It was sustenance enough.

  What she yearned for most was a big juicy steak that had sizzled to perfection on a barbecue, with dollops of barbecue sauce, fried onions and a salad on the side. Despite her lean physique, tiny frame and petite outward appearance, she was anything but a vegan or vegetarian. There was nothing better between her teeth than a nice succulent piece of meat with all the trimmings.