Chapter 33 - Snow White's Son

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Though Crow had once been familiar with men's genitals, and had sucked on them every day as part of his meals, his Father's felt completely different.

 

A lump of flesh that had no love for him looked so gross and filthy that it made his skin crawl with disgust.

 

Even if they looked the same, it would feel completely different from the desire directed at him by Kyle.

 

Without the feelings that flowed between them, a man's genitals were nothing more than a weapon of torment.

 

"Please… please let me go!" Crow sobbed.

 

"Snow White, you always loved having every hole of yours filled, didn't you?"

 

Crow gasped at the horror of his father's words.

 

"I always knew about your secret meetings with the seven elves… what you were doing with them. Of course, I was angry. But more than that, I cared that you remained young and beautiful. And besides, I knew you never brought them here."

 

With a sickening grin, the king traced Crow's body, his fingers lingering where, if Crow were a woman, his sex would be.

 

Caressing the soft skin, the king whispered, "I'll have a witch create a new hole for you here..."

 

He licked his lips with a gleam in his eye.

 

"No... please... Father, stop…" Crow's voice trembled, weak from fear.

 

"Don't worry," the king whispered. "Until then, I'll make sure to take good care of this one," he said, gripping his own monstrous member, positioning its dripping tip against Crow's trembling entrance.

 

The swollen head pressed firmly against the delicate opening, stretching it wider and wider to accommodate the king's dark desires.

 

"It hurts… no…!"

 

Brother, help me, help me—Crow raises a voiceless cry, calling for Kyle.

 

Was it a hallucination from drunkenness, or did I hear Kyle's voice from somewhere?

 

It wasn't the gentle, soothing tone he knew. Instead, it boomed through the chamber, "Snow White!" as if summoning a tempest to sweep through the room.

 

The force of that voice was so powerful it threatened to shake him from his drunken stupor—and as proof it wasn't a hallucination, the king recoiled in shock.

 

"Kyle!"

 

"Get away from him! Release Snow White!"

 

Kyle burst into the royal chamber, racing to the bedside with a fervor that exceeded the volume of his voice.

 

With a fierce grip, he seized the king, dragging him away from Crow.

 

He pulled the tyrant down to the floor and slammed him against the glass coffin with a resounding crash.

 

"Guhh… Kyle… what are you doing? Stop!"

 

"I will kill you! I should have done this sooner!"

 

"Brother…!"

 

Kyle raised the sleeves of his vibrant blue coat, seizing the king's hair in his fist.

 

He grasped the strands of gold flecked with white at the roots, repeatedly smashing the king's head against the coffin.

 

As a dull scream echoed and cracks splintered through the glass, the blood began to seep and spread, creating a web of crimson—a tapestry of revenge—but Kyle showed no mercy.

 

"Brother! Our father…!"

 

If this continued, their father would perish. Should he intervene and call for Kyle to stop, or allow the mad king to be buried alongside their mother's coffin?

 

For a brief moment, Crow faltered in his judgment, unable to find words to speak against the horrifying act of patricide as he reached out helplessly.

 

"Brother…!"

 

At that very moment, the clock struck midnight.

 

The air turned heavy with a noxious sweetness, mingling the scents of apples, wine, and cinnamon, vibrating in an unsettling rhythm.

 

Kyle released his grip on the king's hair, paralyzed like the monarch himself, unable to move as the stained glass lay shattered.

 

Only the red spiderwebs upon the glass spread silently, drooping bloodlike tears in every direction.

 

"U…uh… GUAHHHH—!!"

 

Kyle gazed down at his dying father, unleashing a primal roar that shook him from his core, his body trembling in an upheaval of fury.

 

With a proud stance, he puffed out his chest, only to hunch his back moments later.

 

The fabric of his blue coat strained and then split along his spine, tearing apart to reveal a mass of black fur beneath.

 

As his head lowered, his flowing golden locks turned dark, and the shape of his skull and body transformed dramatically.

 

His arms morphed into forelegs, and when they struck the floor, he had become a beast cloaked in tattered garments.

 

"Brother… wait…!"

 

Ignoring Crow's pleas, the black beast shook itself like a wild animal, shedding the remnants of its clothing, the piercing gaze now a crimson hue.

 

"Kyle… stop! Please… Kyle!"

 

The father, on the brink of losing consciousness, awoke at the sound of the feral growls echoing around him.

 

He cried out as he clung to the cracked coffin, but the beast that was once Kyle showed no recognition.

 

He brandished his sharp claws that seemed harder than iron, and bared his pure white fangs, glistening with hunger.

 

"... Please, stop… Kyle!!"

 

As the king's voice rang through the chamber, Crow hesitated once more atop the bed.

 

He understood that there was no time to waste, that with enough resolve, he could use his bracelet and sing a lullaby to restore Kyle's humanity, to bring him back to his senses.

 

It was not that he lacked the voice to call out. Yet, he found himself paralyzed by indecision.

 

—Perhaps it would be best to send him to our mother, even if it means slaying our father…

 

In that fleeting moment, as brief as a heartbeat, Crow immersed himself in the love of his father and mother, allowing it to resonate within his own being.

 

Until their mother rose again from the depths of the grave, the king would know no happiness.

 

And would their mother desire such a fate for them?

 

To be loved madly is indeed a treasure, but she would never wish for the man she adored to become a raving lunatic, writhing in despair, stripped of his allure and reviled by those around him.

 

Surely, she would not wish for the suffering of the people of their homeland, nor for the child she bore to endure such torment.

 

—Yes, that must be it… Mother wishes for them to be reunited as swiftly as possible…

 

With resolve, Crow decided that even if it meant slaying their father, he would send his deceased mother's spirit to rest. He made no move to stop his brother.

 

Without using the bracelet or singing, he remained a silent witness to the horrific deed unfolding before him.

 

As the beast tore into their father's chest, claws glistening with blood, and sank his fangs into his throat, Crow understood that these haunting images would forever linger in Kyle's memory. He chose not to look away, sharing in that pain.

 

"UAAAHHH!!"

 

The king's dying wail reverberated, slowly fading into silence.

 

Only the crackle of the fire beneath the great cauldron remained, the only sound left in the room.

 

The bloodthirsty beast feasted, its crimson eyes shimmering with a cold detachment as it devoured its prey.

 

"—Beast…"

 

Crow stepped down from the bed, careful to avoid the pooling blood as he approached the creature.

 

While his mind was still on his father, he extended the bracelet before Kyle's eyes.

 

Before Kyle could fathom what it was, Crow began to sing, pouring a lullaby into the sharp ears of the beast.

 

Even when met with a fierce glare, Crow sang boldly, his voice unwavering.

 

This was a lullaby once sung by his brother, infused with heartfelt warmth.

 

He recalled the nights in the tower, binding the beast with his magic hair while singing the same verses. Trusting in the bond they shared, Crow poured his heart into the melody.

 

Though he could no longer wield his magical hair, he believed it could still evoke the same effect.

 

Just as his brother once sang to him, wishing for a sweet slumber, Crow too continued to wish for Kyle's peace.

 

What truly reached the heart sealed by the curse was not the song itself, but the feelings of love exchanged between them.

 

"—U…uh…UUU…!"

 

The beast, gnawing at the king's neck, groaned with a voice that resonated from the depths of the earth, undergoing a transformation before Crow's very eyes.

 

He transformed into the man Crow knew so well—the Beast, who had once been his teacher.

 

His eyes had turned azure, and as their gazes locked, there was no mistaking it: this was Kyle.

 

 

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