Short Story

Queen Benita

 

Queen Benita

Once upon a time, there lived a great Queen.  Her name was Benita. The land she ruled was called Oveta. In all her throne, she only saw one clone.  This clone was her friend and her lover.  Most of all, there was no other.  Clones in the great Kingdom of Oveta envied Peter. They thought he was too grand, a master planner, but most of all, a cheater. Peter did not care. He was on his way to becoming royal heir.

Benita knew of the rumors.  They grew as a daily affair.  She, too, did not care. Her great clone Peter was always aware of her needs.  She called upon him throughout the day and often throughout the night. Whenever she summoned his great, he would always make her state exactly what she wanted and then give it without haste.

This continued for many weeks, until one day Peter grew weak.  He looked at his calendar and said in bleak, “My Lord!  I’ve been with this horde for too long. She’s draining me.”  Peter, the clone, then knew that if he were not made king soon, he would be through.

In a clever and humble way, when he was summoned one day, he gracefully asked when he would be made King with her as his Queen.  Benita then knew that he was seeing through her masterful plan of never granting her clone of a man the gift of whom.  His becoming King would certainly mean that his daily services would be as obliterated as her peace of knowing that she dominated.

Her response was as clever as Peter’s heart was shallow. She said, “My dear clone, I moan for the day to bestow upon you this robe and make you King of all other clones. But there are certain things that must be done before we are one.”

Peter looked with disease. In his mind he could only see what he had been doing for her kinky quirks. So many times being summoned to her chambers, doing things that only gave her pleasure was surely worth his weight in treasure.  But outside, he only said, “What, my fair Queen, does it take before I am your King?”

“Time, my dear clone,” she said with no tone. “Haven’t you heard the rumors upon my throne — that you are a cheater and only in search of my gold?”

Peter responded as cleverly as could be, “WRONG!  My fair Queen! Has not my thrust and honesty lifted me beyond public scrutiny?”

Benita became excited by Peter’s tone, took him in her bosom and ordered him all night long. In the morning when they awakened, the issue of command was still at hand.

Immediately, he said, “For that, I am King. With or without royal robes, I declare myself King above all other clones.”

Appalled by his voice, Benita summoned guards at once.  They came and in chains he was escorted away. Without further ado, he was fed to her monsters below.

Twas not hours after his meal that all the clones who had envied Peter were in line to greet the great Queen Benita, each hoping that he would be chosen to compete for her majesty and one-day become her King.  Benita saw this line and decided to put thoughts in their minds.  She assembled them in her square, served them dinner and one pear.

When her royal voice filled the air, they listened with a stare.  “Before me I see many clones, whom I know want my throne.  As you all know, I have cast aside the last clone because of dishonorable tone.  Let that serve as lesson to the next clone who is bestowed as my own.”

The clones turned to each other with a look of stone.  Each one knew that he, too, would be through if Queen Benita ever grew angry or blue. Filling the air with royal debonair, she commanded their attention without intervention. “Each one of you was given one pear with your meal.  If you have not eaten your pear please kneel.  To the dungeons for the mungens who have.”

With guards monitoring every clone’s meal, her request was done without squeal.

Only five clones remained. Each one was virtually insane with the fact that he remained. Not knowing what to expect, they started to sweat. Queen Benita walked to their table and said in a vapor, “Come with me clones, I’m taking you home.”

They looked at each other without a grumble.  Standing, trying to remain humble, one tripped but barely stumbled. The Queen turned around without making a sound, merely pointing to him, and like the end of a day, guards carried him away.  Other clones then knew that Queen Benita was one who tolerated no gluts, back mouths, or klutz.

Leading the way, Queen Benita stopped, turned and said, “Of the four of you who remain, only one will reign.” She continued to walk, while the clones only thought.  Each in his mind could not decide who it would be or what she wanted to see.

Finally, she stopped at an unopened hatch and then knocked. An unusually thin and tall, tall, Druid opened the door. With only one arm, it beckoned for more.  Suddenly, there stood one hundred and one Druids in hoods.         Muttering sounds of hunger, they stared thick like thunder.  With wet tongues of desire, they rushed the clones like raging fire. Noble Benita neither gestured nor petered. With the clones in shock, one dying from fear, the grand Queen walked near.

Unsure what to expect, the Druids kneeled with humble respect. Food usually came from a shoot above.  Shattered and almost crazed, the remaining clones only stared through a haze. Noisy air rushed through the opened hatch. Queen Benita mumbled to confuse their minds. The Druids, not hearing, became nervous to the point of decline. Afraid to ask what she was saying, they began crying and the Queen said, “Stop you fools! I’m here to rule, not chastise you because you drool.”

In an instant, the Druids stood with regained conviction.  Their tears dried and their desire returned, only this time it churned. The wind from the hatch stormed the room like bitter gloom.  Dark hoods covering the Druids were blown away and revealed faces, decayed, cold and gray. Something unearthly burned in the eyes of these living creatures.

The three remaining clones could only moan. In front of their eyes, the Druids feasted on a feeding frenzy on the clone who had just died. They devoured him savagely, almost mechanically, as if this were nothing new but the only way they grew. Through a haze, the remaining clones began screaming as if their souls were bleeding.

The daring and beautiful Queen Benita started laughing while staring; her words sounded like swearing. Her eyes were fixed on a magical mix she from nowhere suddenly clutched in her fists.  From this mix grew an enchanting bewitching glow.  That glow grew into a woman more beautiful and even more enticing than the mysterious Queen who had just created this miraculous scene.

All one hundred and one Druids encircled the spectacle as if something fanatical were about to happen. Without making a sound, they turned around. With their backs to the center, they listened with great splendor.

Looking into the eyes of this new woman, the crying clones calmed from fear and started to leer.  While the clones stared at her magical creation, Queen Benita observed them, carefully, as if monitoring their devotion.  They did not know, but she wanted to know, which one would be true and love only her as his temptation grew.

From the corner of his eye, one clone saw Benita looking on the sly.  He quickly estimated that the illusion before him was but another test for him to digest. He pulled himself away from the woman created, as if she could only be something he hated. The other two clones continued to stare.  Their lust grew and it became apparent to Benita who then knew they were not worthy of her trust and she grew in disgust.  In her usual abrupt way, she clapped her hands and in an instant, the woman created became a vicious and evil shrew who slaughtered all who were enchanted in her woo.

The monstrous Druids, still hearing, quickly turned around and jumped into the eyes of the clones who were killed. Their slain bodies were devoured by hunger.  The only remaining clone was most humbled. The image of the monster created disappeared as quickly as she appeared. As if satisfied, the Druids kneeled to the Queen and left the room thanking her for a most magnificent meal.

The last clone then knew it would be he who would rule all other clones and sit high on throne for eternity. Queen Benita approached him and said, “Come with me clone, we’re going to see how well you take orders from me.” They went to her royal chambers and for one week did not speak.

One day they awakened, looked into each other’s eyes and spoke.  Each was unsure with no clue about what he or she should do.  Finally, the King said, “I am Charles, King of Clones.  What shall I call you?”

Benita turned to her new man and said, “Tell me now Charles, what SHOULD we do? I am still Queen Benita.  I rule the land of Oveta. Without me, you will become food for my animals below.”

As if uncertain how to respond, he whispered as he glistened.  Seeing his glow, Queen Benita said, “No! I will not be spoken to like those who are there for my fun and my flare. I am Queen Benita. Do not whisper in my ear. Raise your voice and speak to me clearly, or I will have you beaten severely.”

In a deeper and keener voice, King Charles then said, “Yes, you are still Queen, but I am now King. If you abandon me, your kingdom will certainly see that you are unfair and then they will stare. If they revolt, you will have no heir.”

Queen Benita turned and hissed. She said with no bliss, “If you as much as dare think of testing me, you will see how quickly I feed you to my creatures below.”

The King then stood, “I shall call you Nina. As a clone in the kingdom of Oveta, you were always known as the evil one named Benita. You picked clones for your play and then threw them away.  Surely, you must have known that in that sea of minds you called clones, there would be a day when one would rule your throne. I now stand and say that this is that day.  I am upon you. In your moments of pleasure, you bestowed upon me the right to be King forever. When asking what I shall call you, I was not speaking to you.  In my own mind I was trying to decide how I would address you.  Now that I know of your plans for monsters and such, I feel I must show that I am now King with you as my Queen and shall call you Nina.”

In disbelief, the Queen replied, “If you so much as dare question my royalty, I shall have you see that there is nothing you can do with me.  You are King, yes, but I am the Queen.  My Druids below will always know that I am their master and will worship me forever with fear. They will eat you if I say so because it is food like you that makes them grow. I give them life; I feed them dice of men like you called clones. Call me Queen Benita or I shall remove you from throne.”

King Charles took her hand and said, “Relax and accept your place or I shall remove you from grace. What you do not understand is that I now rule this place.  While you slept, after feelings of ecstasy, I searched your world of hexery. What I found was a potion to replace food for my Druids.  They now belong to me. So you see Nina, you should rest and forget your rule as Benita.  I AM YOUR CHOICE and with only my voice could command this land with the very magic from your own royal hand.”

Nina became afraid and ran to the place she hid the mix used in her tricks.         The mix was not there. Sweat from her pores showed her discord.  King Charles then knew he truly ruled the land of Oveta without any harm from Nina.

 

Many years did pass. Each day was as blissful as the new ruler who still glistened from the changes he ordained. Clones in the Kingdom of Oveta were no longer called clones.  They were lifted to a level they had never known.         Now called men, death was born to what they once feared.  The evil and bewitching Queen Benita was now only an old woman named Nina. King Charles was their savior and ruled them with favor.

Old in age, Nina still searched for the magical mix she once lost to the man who was her pick.  Getting older, her search was growing colder.  Without a clue, she grew in the idea that she would again one day rule. The Druids below no longer ate clones. They would not help her, this she knew. The magical brew King Charles drew made them forget who had kept them fit for not one century but two.  Even without their help, she was not going to accept the cards of fate she was dealt. She began planning and scheming, sneaking and thieving.  When all she needed was collected, she closed her eyes and projected thoughts from her mind until in time she created a new supply of tricks.

King Charles was a passionate man – always willing to lend a hand.  The men and women of Oveta loved him as their leader.  Nina knew this to be true and decided to do something evil and cruel. She was angry that she no longer ruled. Her choice of man made in her past had left her lonely and sad.  She did not know it, but this choice would be her last.  In the main water supply, she would pour her new mix until the whole Kingdom of Oveta was dead. It almost worked, except for one blurp.  On that particular day, King Charles decided to ride near the lake and for a surprise pick flowers for his bride.  On his horse, he followed his usual course.  At the end of the trail, he saw Nina kneeling with a pail.  Curious as to why, he watched her with both eyes.  As she approached the stream, something inside him made him scream. Hearing his voice, she ran with sudden force. From her reaction he panicked, squeezed his stallion and rushed to her with the force of a royal battalion.

As she was about to pour the contents from her pail, King Charles swooped down in a flowing sail, grabbed her wrists and could see that she was filled with contempt. Suspicious of her intentions, he summoned his most noble court of just.

Soon, all the people of Oveta knew that their Queen, once named Benita, was truly a killer.  Her head was removed at the stake.  Her body was buried near the lake she had attempted to infiltrate with a virus from her hate. In a moment, through her mind, before the hatchet severed her spine, she realized that life was sometimes unkind. She also realized that it was the choices she had made that took her to her…….GRAVE………

 

 

 

1992 © Terry Smith