NIGHTMARE OF FILTHAS DENGOTTA

It’s October and I thought I would start the month off with a bang. This flash fiction tale will be featuring the evil cursed villain, Filthas Dengotta. In this tale I will share a bit about his power and the blackness he spreads just by a single touch. Hope you enjoy this tale and helps get you into the Halloween spirit. 🙂


He looked out over the hall. It was centuries since he last seen the sunshine through stainless glass windows. Sometimes I wonder if those times ever existed beyond this hell that Bitch cursed me too! Filthas glared at the images dancing across the floor, bright with their beauty. Wolves, rabbits, horses, soldiers, and beautiful flowers pranced around the room bringing delight and merriment to all that viewed its wonder, except him.

“Ye enjjjoying the sccccenery, me Llllord?” asked a weak voice. Filthas turned to the scrawny boy hovering in the doorway. The lad looked sickly and worn to the bone. Doesn’t sound too bright neither. The lad hesitated then crept his way into the room. He sneered at the lad making him shake in fear.

“The happy animals, they disgust me! What do they have to be happy about? They are just food for my belly.” Filthas crossed his arms contemplating the best way to deal with this unrest. This place is too damn cheary for my taste where is the death and decay? You think the fool Marthred would know this place would infuriate me. Apparently, the imbecile doesn’t know my background too well. I will have to remedy that next time I see him. The sound of the lad’s whimpered response drew him back to the moment at hand “oh…”

“What’s the matter, boy! You like the little animals?” The disgust rang true through his words as he turned his red eyes on the lad. His fiery eyes full of hate watched the lad look longingly at the pictures emulating off the floor, “Yessss.”

A few moments passed in silence as emotions fought for control of his mind. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to destroy the beautiful dwarven glass windows or paint the floor with the lad’s blood. “What’s your name, boy?”

The lad looked up. Filthas watched the color fade from the boys face as he locked eyes with the fires of hell that were his eyes. “Well, you deaf or just plain stupid!” Fear prompted the lad to speak, “Scccottttieee.”

Chuckling Filthas let his skeletal smile scrape across his face. “Well, Scottie how about we have a game of sport? Go catch me a rabbit and I’ll show you a trick of mine.”

Scottie hesitated looking at him with questions written across his face. Filthas found himself intrigued by the young lad. Scottie must have known he couldn’t get out of doing what Filthas asked. “Umm yessss, me Llllord I’ll go fetccch ye a rabbittt.”

Filthas watched in amusement as the fifteen-year-old lad ran out of the room. If only he knew what he was getting himself into. Filthas continued to look around the room. This place needs darkness and blood I believe. He was musing about how he could make this lovely environment more dark and home feeling. The clatter of feet on the floor drew his attention to the door as Scottie came running through.

“I gotttt ye tttthe ra ra rabitttt like ye assssk me Llllord” Between the stammer and the heavy breathing Filthas scolded from the headache the idiot caused. The lad would be better without his tongue wouldn’t cause so much strife with that idiot speech. He pushed past the discomfort the boy’s words caused. “Good. I was wondering if you had the brains enough to catch one.”

Scottie cringed at the insult. Apparently, the little town idiot has a brain to register an insult at least. Filthas pulled off his glove and admired his hand. He always hated looking at himself in the daylight. When the sun hit him he showed his true form, the form of death. Filthas could see the chunks of skin falling off the bone leaving nothing but a bare skeleton behind. “Hand me the rabbit boy,” he ordered.

Scottie looked at his hand and gulped. “Masssster Martttthred sssssaid notttt tttto ttttoucccch ye hannnnd me Lllllord.”

“Oh, did he now,” Filthas growled. “Did the Lord of Idiots tell you not to hand me anything either!” His voice echoed off the stone walls and the innocent bunny thrashed in fear within the small bag Scottie was holding. Scottie shook his head. “Well boy, hand me the damn rabbit!”

Scottie whimpered as he handed Filthas the rabbit. It’s like he knows what will happen without ever witnessing it firsthand. “Tell me Scottie, did Marthred tell you why to fear my touch?” Filthas tilted his head holding the rabbit in his gloved hand watching the fear fill its eyes. These stupid animals know when death is upon them. He watched the boy squirm till his amusement shriveled up like a dead corpse. “Nooo…”

“Adorable little creatures rabbits are,” he mused. “So, sad that they are so fragile.” Filthas took his skeleton hand and gently poked the rabbit on the nose. Just a touch is all it takes for this curse to claim anything within my grasp. Moments passed within a small breath of time till the rabbit screamed a death scream, thrashing till blackness seeped into its veins. Once a beautiful brown fluff of fur now turned into a blackened corpse with the pain of fear and death etched into its face.

“Whatttt yeeee do me Llllord!” Scottie cried.

He laughed hysterically at the boy’s distress. “My touch is death!” Filthas pulled his dagger from its sheath gracing his hip and gutted the rabbit splattering black blood and guts across the floor. His laughter filled the halls as darkness took the light from the room. Even the stupid windows knew better than to challenge his blackened hands.

When the windows that once were bright and beautiful were tainted black by his magic he relaxed. The room became dark as night even though the sun shone bright outside the blacked now decayed windows. He tossed the lifeless rabbit at Scottie’s feet. He found himself extremely amused at the boys tear filled face. “Get out of my site you’re human emotions disgust me!”

“Yessss, me Llllord” Scottie whispered.

It didn’t take long for the boy to scurry out of the room. Awww, the pain and suffering of others is beautiful, it almost makes me want to cry. He yelled after the boy, “stammer in my presence again you imbecile you will face the rabbits fate, Scottieeeee!” The mockery in his voice range through the halls and he laughed with glee.


This is a flash fiction story featuring character’s from my WIP Tarzinëa. Stay tuned for additional flash fiction tales featuring characters throughout my many WIPs here on my blog. If you want to make sure you don’t miss any don’t forget to subscribe above to receive updates sent directly to your email. 

**note: this is a work of fiction that is created by my mind I did not have an editor make correction to this piece of writing. I did use an online software to help edit it called ProWritingAid, if you see any correction please don’t hesitate to let me no I will be happy to make the changes. Thank you and enjoy :).


Get an inside look into the writings of Speculative Fiction author K.M. Jenkins.

This fan-focused newsletter answers YOUR questions about the author’s life and characters, shares progress on current projects, lists upcoming events, news, and more.

On special occasions characters from K.M. Jenkins’ works will drop in and take over this newsletter.

 

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Don’t Kill the Monk!!!

He sat there next to the lake looking out over the shimmering water. Rikkin found himself waiting longer than he liked. But, he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He had to wait for the appropriate time for his brother to contact him.

The sun rose over the lake marking mid-day. Rikkin stood up and paced to get feeling back into his stiff limbs. “Damn I’m getting too old for this.”

“That’s what being stuck in a rock for 3,000 years does to you!”

Rikkin grunted turning around seeing the reflection of his younger brother looking back at him. He knelt down to get a stronger read on his brother’s location. Roülle looked worse than he did. The poor fool looks dead on his fit. There were shadows under his eyes and dirt smeared a crossed his face. If he looks this bad, I wonder how the monk is faring. “How are the roads treating you little brother?”

“This world sucks! I swear every time I turn around there are bandits or people ruder than hell expecting me to get out of their way. In our time this crap wouldn’t happen…”

Rikkin watched the wild fire blaze to life in his brother’s eyes. He always gets so emotional. “This world has changed since our time amongst it. People have forgotten our kind and don’t show respect to anyone unless they wear the marks of nobility or have wealth.”

“Just be patient and try not to go nuts on anyone,” Rikkin said.

Roülle glared back at him and snapped, “I wouldn’t have to deal with this if I could just shift to the King’s side. But, no… I have to travel with this damn Monk!” The hostility radiating off Roülle created a red glow around his watery reflection.

“Calm yourself you are acting a damn fool.” Roülle snorted in response. If I was there, I would punch him into the abyss and back. He wouldn’t be acting so damn stupid. What do I have to do hold his damn hand because he wants to do everything the easy way?  

“I’ll make no promises.” Roülle turned away, the sound of cracking twigs and rustling in the brush filled the air. The reflection faded for a second as silence took hold. Rikkin gripped his knee waiting to see if his brother would return. Every moment is precious and every second they waste using their magic draws more attention to them. “It’s just the damn Monk, apparently we need to get back on the road.”

He sighed in relief letting the tension fade away. “Be careful and do your best not to do something stupid that gets you killed. Okay?”

A smirk inched its way across his brother’s face. “Like I said Brother, I’ll make no promises. But, if the Monk keeps stopping to help every dang person in need, there will be hell to pay.”

“Remember… “

“Yeah! I no! Don’t kill the Monk,” Roülle snapped.

“You need to keep him alive! He has a purpose in the war to come…”

“I’ll keep him alive! Don’t worry…” Roülle smiled back at him. “Worry about your own mission Rikkin. Last time I checked I didn’t have a headstrong woman to deal with.”

He wasn’t wrong about that Kero was turning out to be a difficult student to train. I don’t know if she is ready for this responsibility, but hopefully with time she will change. Breaking the connection Rikkin left behind his brother and returned to his own task. It was up to him to get Kero ready for the hell this war was bringing and it looked like it was coming faster than expected. “Karigan I pray you picked the right person that is strong enough to carry this giant burden.”


This is a flash fiction story featuring character’s from my WIP Tarzinëa. Stay tuned for additional flash fiction tales featuring characters throughout my many WIPs here on my blog. If you want to make sure you don’t miss any don’t forget to subscribe above to receive updates sent directly to your email. 

**note: this is a work of fiction that is created by my mind I did not have an editor make correction to this piece of writing. I did use an online software to help edit it called ProWritingAid, if you see any correction please don’t hesitate to let me no I will be happy to make the changes. Thank you and enjoy :).


Get an inside look into the writings of Speculative Fiction author K.M. Jenkins.

This fan-focused newsletter answers YOUR questions about the author’s life and characters, shares progress on current projects, lists upcoming events, news, and more.

On special occasions characters from K.M. Jenkins’ works will drop in and take over this newsletter.

King’s Understanding

“Damn that woman!”

“What has Princess Kerowyné done this time?” Dimitri groaned turning pages as he looked over the King’s daily schedule.

King Tyler stomped through the throne room with fury stretched across his face. Dimitri was watching him over his clipboard like a cat sizing up its dinner. Tyler had a strong urge to choke him out with that stupid look on his face but instead fell into his throne with a disgusted grunt. One day my time as king will end and I can be free of this place.

“Well, Sire you going to answer or just stare off into space?” He grunted in response to Dimitri’s voice. Glaring at that sly fox that was his most trusted councilor, Tyler contemplated how best to go about wording his thoughts. Dimitri always took the Queen’s side in every spat they had. One word escaped his mouth, “Sarah.”

The clipboard hit the table as Dimitri turned giving the King his full attention. “What are you and the Queen fighting about this time?”

I swear he makes it sound like all we do is fight. He tapped his forefinger in irritation raising an eyebrow contemplating where his trusted councilor’s loyalty laid. “Word got back to her about my father training Kerowyné in swordsmanship.”

“It seems lately all your fights have revolved around the Princess,” Dimitri said. Tyler watched as he crossed his arms standing with a look of complete annoyance dancing across his features. “Perhaps sending her to Fôndura to get away from the politics of the courts was a mistake.”

He sat back in his throne relaxing for a second allowing his fingers to message his right temple. “The best option at the time was to get her away from here for a while. The Lords were in an uproar after her last stunt she pulled, remember.”

All he got in response was a nod of the head. Till this day he didn’t understand why Kerowyné let Lord Marcus’ daughter get to her like that, but knowing who the girl’s father is he didn’t blame her. There were hundreds of times he wanted to punch out Lord Marcus himself, but apparently his daughter was a doer not a dreamer. Perhaps Sarah is right, she might need more discipline.

“Perhaps learning swordmanship will give her some discipline?”

Tyler looked up in shock, he couldn’t believe his ears. “Dimitri, you aren’t siding with the Queen on this one!”

Dimitri smirked at him, “the Queen has a point about what the true duties are for a princess. However, it is obvious the Queen needs to consider that your daughter is far different from any princess this kingdom has had before.”

“What are you getting at Dimitri?”

He felt a smart remark coming on and Dimitri didn’t disappoint. “After all, you weren’t a prince that fit the typical molding and almost killed everyone in your wake. To this day many still talk about how your persona changed since becoming the King.”

Tyler snorted, that’s because I’m bound by these damn chains of responsibilities and have to deal with Lords nipping at my heals like hounds. If it wasn’t for Sarah, I would have gone mad by now. 

Dimitri stared at him with this sincere gleam in his eyes. “You might hate to admit it Sire, but your daughter is by far the most like you out of all your children. This should be a blessing, however in your case I feel it is something we will all come to dread.”

He looked on as Dimitri turned back to his clipboard filled with papers. Tyler contemplated his words and realized the truth within them. Perhaps swordsmanship training will give her discipline and help her with whatever struggles she is having within. Deep down he knew something was a miss and wished he had a way to bridge the gap between them. Till then I guess I will stick with distracting her mother till she finds her way.


This is a flash fiction story featuring character’s from my WIP Tarzinëa. Stay tuned for additional flash fiction tales featuring characters throughout my many WIPs here on my blog. If you want to make sure you don’t miss any don’t forget to subscribe above to receive updates sent directly to your email. 

**note: this is a work of fiction that is created by my mind I did not have an editor make correction to this piece of writing. I did use an online software to help edit it called ProWritingAid, if you see any correction please don’t hesitate to let me no I will be happy to make the changes. Thank you and enjoy :).


Get an inside look into the writings of Speculative Fiction author K.M. Jenkins.

This fan-focused newsletter answers YOUR questions about the author’s life and characters, shares progress on current projects, lists upcoming events, news, and more.

On special occasions characters from K.M. Jenkins’ works will drop in and take over this newsletter.