The last confessor Episode 1 & 2

🩸The Last Confessor🗡️
(She’s the last of her kind….)
Prologue
By: Kebby NG
 
 
The throne room was quiet as he walked in, all the subjects bowing their heads in both fear and respect.
Not even a single sound was heard, only the sounds of his boots, as they marched against the concrete floor.
The aura could be felt – that deadly aura. And that was, perhaps, one of things that brou-ght him so much respect and fear from people.
His hands were crossed behind his back as he walked in and sat on his high throne. But the subjects dare not lift their heads, not until he permits them to.
“Long live the King” they chorused as soon as they noticed him sitting.
There was a long silence, as he rested his chin and t©uçhed his lower l!pwith his thumb.
There was not a single person in the hall, that he was older than. He was just 28, yet gained so much respect.
“You may rise” he finally gave the command and they lifted their heads, in relief.
He didn’t stare at any of them, but they knew what was next.
Shortly, he was brou-ght in – the injured guard.
He limped painfully, his hand over his hurting belly, until he got closer to the throne and knelt in front of the young King.
“Long live my King” he did the normal routine, his head bowed.
But one could tell he was in pains – and not just pains, but fear as well.
“I’m sorry, My King. But we lost her. We tried all we could to capture her, but she used her powers on one of my men, turning him against us. And in the end, everyone of them died. I’m the only survivor” he explained with ha-rd gulps.
He was as scared as a man close to death could feel.
The subjects had so many thoughts running throu-gh their minds, but they dare not murmur – not when they were in front of the King.
King Caesar was silent for a long while.
“You’re trying to say….you lost her?” he finally spoke up, his voice so calm, words so soft.
“Yes, my King. Forgive my incompetence”.
King Caesar stood up and walked gracefully to the table behind the throne. His steps were slow, but smart.
“You went on a mission with 8 men – to capture a single lady. Yet, only one of you returned”. He said lowly as he t©uçhed the weapons on the table.
The guard was almost shivering.
For a long while, there was silence, suspense.
But not until he spoke out.
“You’re worst than a failure”.
And with that, he took a dagger and turning swiftly, he threw it right at him, in such an incredible way, it landed straight into his che-st.
He gro-an ed as blood oozed from his mouth. And in a split second, he was lying on the floor. Cold.
And dead.
Cold shivers ran throu-gh the veins of the subjects, as they whimpered in fear, praying vehemently they don’t victim at all.
King Caesar, his hands crossed behind his back, walked back to his throne and took his seat.
“Take more men” he said to the two guards in the room.
“Go in search of the confessor. I want her found by all means.
“No matter what, make sure she doesn’t die. I want her alive”. He paused and took in q de-ep breath.
“I have so many plans in sto-re for her”.
Silence.
“Yes, My King” the guards bowed and left.
*
*
Her name is Isabelle. And she’s the last confessor – the last of her kind.
Of course, they were more than that. But, not until her village was ambushed few days ago by the King’s guards, and every one of her kind died. All the confessors were killed.
The confessors – they were females with special powers of compulsion. They had the ability to turn a man into their slaves and do every single thing they de-sire. And it’d go on for as long as the confessor was alive.
King Caesar was a victim of this. He was a slave to one of the confessors and worsh!pped her. All he could think of, day and night, was plea-sing his mistress.
The confessor was not all that nice, as she made him kill his parents.
He had no control of himself and didn’t know what he was doing. But finally, the spell was broken and he coming back to his s-en-ses, he realized all that he’s done and lost. He realized how he’d been in bondage for years, and even killed his own parents.
It broke him.
He mourned for months, trying to get over it, but couldn’t. The confessors had fled and went into hiding, but unfortunately, their hideout was discovered – somehow- and they were ambushed.
Every one of them died, except her – Isabelle.
She was the sister to the confessor who had enslaved the King and she was the only one lucky enough to escape.
Although, her sister was thought to be dead, but her b©dy was yet to be found.
Isabelle tried all she could to hide from the King, but it turned out impossible for her as the King hunted her tirelessly.
But what was the vengeful King’s plans for her?
Was her sister really dead?
And would she remain the last of her kind forever?
So many questions to be answered. This is gonna be a blast, guys😋
Don’t miss out
 
Episode 1
 
She ran throu-gh the woods, p@n-ting heavily, her back alre-ady aching.
they were almost closing up on her, and she knew she nee-ded a way to distract them, to get rid of them.
Her breath was alre-ady faltering, and running pas-s a hole, she c@m£ out to another p@rt of the forest where she slided to a big tree and hid behind it.
Her white garment was alre-ady stained and she tried to pack them up so no traces would be found when the guards come running by.
Her plan was to hide behind the tree and pray the guards run pas-s her, without seeing her. Because she couldn’t afford being found.
She breathed heavily as she leaned against the tree, and soon, their sounds of their boots were heard. She shut her eyes and prayed fervently they continue running without seeing her, but to her outmost disappointment, she heard them st©p.
Oh! Damn it.
She opened her eyes, still p@n-ting and wondering why they st©pped running. Could it be possible they’ve found her?
“Come out, little confessor” she heard the thick voice say and recognized it to be the chief guard.
“We know you’re here – somewhere. And we’re definitely gonna find you”.
Her heart raced so fast. How did they find out?
“The King is never gonna rest until he finds you” his voice persisted, but she knew it was only a tactic to distract her until they find her. She knew they were perhaps, tracing her steps or something.
“He’s placed a bounty on your head alre-ady – 100 pieces of silver. You have nowhere to go,confessor. Everyone in the village wants you. So, I’d suggest you come out now, and we take you to the king peacefully. It’s pointless, running away, when you’ll still get caught.
“You’re alre-ady the last of your kind”.
That s£ntence got at her as she fli-pped her eyes open and felt so much rage.
The last of her kind –
Then, she recalled everything that had happened – how she lost her entire family – her sisters.
Isabelle knew she was no more safe when she heard footsteps become closer and taking a br@ve step, she sprang on her feet and started running away – running away from her shield and out to the open – risking herself to the guards.
The guards noticed her and the leader yelled:
“After her!!!!”
Everyone charged, and in a split second, 8 men were chasing her again.
She had no idea what to do, or how she was gonna get rid of them, but she continued running anyways, her heart racing so fast.
Suddenly, one of them aimed an arrow at her. And unfortunately for poor Isabelle, it went right into her leg.
“Argh!!!” She skrie-ked as she fell on the floor, the arrow stuck in her right leg.
She looked behind and the guards were fast approaching. She winced in pains.
She stood there on the gras-sy floor, her leg hurting like hell. Then, she closed her eyes and la-id completely, like she had pas-sed out.
The guards ran tirelessly and finally got to where she was – the young pretty confessor.
They stared at her for a few seconds and confirmed she wasn’t awake.
“Is she dead?” One of them asked, but got no reply.
The arrow was still in her leg.
The chief guard studied her face properly, then took some steps closer.
His eyes never left her pretty face and slowly, he squ-atted in front of her.
Her long dark hair was scattered all across her face.
He was about bringing his f!nger to her nostrils to see if she was still breathing, but that was the trick. As unexpectedly, the confessor’s eyes went open and she grasped his n£¢k, locking his eyes into hers.
Everything happened so fast, the guards weren’t quic-k enough to take action. And in less than five seconds, the eyes of the chief guard changed to black, same with Isabelle. They changed back to normal afterwards, but it had alre-ady been done.
He was confessed.
Isabelle let go of his n£¢k as she fell back to the floor weakly. Using her powers weakened her.
“Get her!!” One of the guards around yelled and they all charged towards her, but the chief guard stood up immediately and faced them, his eyes flashing with anger.
“You’ll not harm my mistress” he said with gritted teeth and they looked at each other, confused.
“He’s been bewitched by the confessor. Get her!!” The guard gave the order, still and it bec@m£ a one man to 7 men battle.
The chief guard brou-ght out his sword and faced them, fighting with his life.
He wasn’t gonna let them harm his mistress, not while he was still breathing.
He had the power of 3 men and was more experienced then them, so it wasn’t really difficult for him, fighting against them.
Isabelle la-id weakly on the floor as she listened to the clattering sounds of swords, hitting against each other.
Her strength returned to her, bit by bit, and when she opened her eyes, she only found two men standing – the man she had confessed, and one other guard.
But unfortunately, the man she had confessed had a knife to her che-st, as he had been stabbe-d by the other.
He gro-an ed and fell on the floor, alongside the other guards who were probably dead as well.
She flin-ched and crawled backwards. The only man who could defend her was gone
Fear took over her as the last guard started coming towards us.
“Its over, confessor” he said.
“There’s no one left to defend you. And don’t even think of confessing me, cause you can’t”.
She recoiled in fear as he c@m£ closer to her, his sword in his hand.
Although, fear was written in her eyes, but perhaps, she let it show on purpose so he could think she was completely vulnerable.
When he was close enough to her,and was about gr-abbing her hand, she reached for the arrow in her leg, and in a swift gro-an , she pu-ll-ed it out and drove it right into his che-st.
“Ugh!!” He yelped as he staggered on his feet and moved back.
He held the arrow in his che-st and tried pu-lling it out, but couldn’t. And in few seconds, he was on the floor.
Isabelle p@n-ted heavily as she stared at the men on the floor – all 8 of them.
She’d gotten rid of them.
She to-re out a piece of her garment and tied it round the leg which had been sh0t. She still felt so much pains and figured she nee-ded to treat it.
She f0rç£fully stood on her feet and using so much effort, started walking away.
She knew she couldn’t leave the village, because the King had placed guards on every exit and boundary.
Alas, she had one place to go – somewhere she could get help.
Episode 2
 
The throne room was quiet as he walked in, all the subjects bowing their heads in both fear and respect.
Not even a single sound was heard, only the sounds of his boots, as they marched against the concrete floor.
The aura could be felt – that deadly aura. And that was, perhaps, one of things that brou-ght him so much respect and fear from people.
His hands were crossed behind his back as he walked in and sat on his high throne. But the subjects dare not lift their heads, not until he permits them to.
“Long live the King” they chorused as soon as they noticed him sitting.
There was a long silence, as he rested his chin and t©uçhed his lower l!pwith his thumb.
There was not a single person in the hall, that he was older than. He was just 28, yet gained so much respect.
“You may rise” he finally gave the command and they lifted their heads, in relief.
He didn’t stare at any of them, but they knew what was next.
Shortly, he was brou-ght in – the injured guard.
He limped painfully, his hand over his hurting belly, until he got closer to the throne and knelt in front of the young King.
“Long live my King” he did the normal routine, his head bowed.
But one could tell he was in pains – and not just pains, but fear as well.
“I’m sorry, My King. But we lost her. We tried all we could to capture her, but she used her powers on the chief guard,, turning him against us. And in the end, everyone of them died. I’m the only survivor” he explained with ha-rd gulps.
He was as scared as a man close to death could feel.
The subjects had so many thoughts running throu-gh their minds, but they dare not murmur – not when they were in front of the King.
King Caesar was silent for a long while.
“You’re trying to say….you lost her?” he finally spoke up, his voice so calm, words so soft.
“Yes, my King. Forgive my incompetence”.
King Caesar stood up and walked gracefully to the table behind the throne. His steps were slow, but smart.
“You went on a mission with 8 men – to capture a single lady. Yet, only one of you returned”. He said lowly as he t©uçhed the weapons on the table.
The guard was almost shivering.
For a long while, there was silence, suspense.
But not until he spoke out.
“You’re worst than a failure”.
And with that, he took a dagger and turning swiftly, he threw it right at him, in such an incredible way, it landed straight into his che-st.
He gro-an ed as blood oozed from his mouth. And in a split second, he was lying on the floor. Cold.
And dead.
Cold shivers ran throu-gh the veins of the subjects, as they whimpered in fear, praying vehemently they don’t fall victim at all.
King Caesar, his hands crossed behind his back, walked back to his throne and took his seat.
“Take more men” he said to the two guards in the room.
“Go in search of the confessor. I want her found by all means.
“No matter what, make sure she doesn’t die. I want her alive”. He paused and took in a de-ep breath.
“I have so many plans in sto-re for her”.
Silence.
“Yes, My King” the guards bowed and left.
Her name is Isabelle.
And the story of how she bec@m£ the last confessor….
The confessors were females with special powers of compulsion.
They compare someone by forcing them to look into their eyes, then the power takes over. The person becomes their slaves for as long as they live and do every single thing they say. The only way to break the spell was if the confessor dies.
The confessors referred to themselves as “sisters” and lived together and of course, they had a leader. Isabelle’s sister was their leader.
King Caesar – back then, when he was still a prince – had been on a long trip with some guards. When it was nightfall, they found a place to camp, but unknown to them, it was close to the camp of the confessors.
While they were asleep, the confessors attacked them and confessed him – Caesar – alongside some of his men. He was confessed by Tabitha – Isabelle’s blood sister and the leader of the confessors at that time.
He bec@m£ her slave, loved and cherished her and worsh!pped her every de-sire.
Caesar and his men stayed with the confessors for a very long time, doing their every wish and helping them fight their enemies.
Caesar’s parents were worried and searched for their only son for long. And when they finally found him, they were shocked to discover he had been confessed and was a love slave to someone.
His parents hated the confessors, cause they saw them as witches. They tried to convince Caesar to come home with them, but being blinded by “love”, he wouldn’t think of leaving his mistress. He’d chos£n her over his parents.
And Tabitha – she also didn’t want to lose Caesar. So, she didn’t permit him to leave.
Enraged, his father ordered the death of Tabitha -because that was the only way his son could be free.
The first attempt was made on her life, and although she survived, they lost one of their sisters to it. One of the confessors had died in the process.
A second attack was carried out. And this time around, it was an open attack. The King had led the battle to the camp of the confessors, with the order of eliminating all the confessors, so his son and the rest of his men would be free.
The attack was mas-sive and most of the confessors died in the process. An arrow was sh0t at Tabitha, and when Caesar saw that his mistress was almost killed, and shocking enough, by his father, he was angered and attacked him – his own father.
At the end of the day, Caesar’s father was dead – in the hands of his own son.
But still blinded by his love for his mistress, he didn’t take it to be anything as all he could think of at that moment, was healing her and st©pping her from dying.
When the Queen heard of the death of her husband, it broke her and she pas-sed away after a few days, due to heart failure.
Tabitha had survived the attack. And the confessors relocated to another camp, with. the confessed men.
They continued staying with the confessors for a long time,. But, not long after, everything changed.
Tabitha had gone out with three other confessors, to get some supplies.
Caesar had stayed back at the camp, weaving some clothes with Isabelle – just like Tabitha had instructed.
Isabelle and Caesar had been together that evening, weaving the clothes, when suddenly, something unexpected happened.
The cloth had sli-pped from Caesar’s hand as he slowly, stood on his feet, his eyes dimming.
He had looked around, at himself, then at Isabelle. And Isabelle knew there was a very big problem when he asked:
“Where am I?”
It was just as if he had woken up from a very de-ep slumber, and that moment, Isabelle knew he was no longer confessed. She knew her sister…..her sister was no longer alive. Her powers were no longer active.
Being in confusion, Caesar ran out of the tent, out of the camp, headed home. He nee-ded to meet his family first.
On the long way to the palace, the memories of what he had done when he was confessed, kept repla-ying in his head, but he waved then aside.
He p@n-ted heavily as he ran throu-gh the forest like a mad man. But when the p@rticular scene flashed in his head, he suddenly gro-an ed and fell on his knees.
He let out an agonizing cry for the first time in his life when he remembered how he fought and killed his own father. He killed his own father.
He wept for a long time in the forest, unable to bear the heartbeat. But after a long time, he consoled himself with the fact he still had a mother to return to.
Getting to the palace, he received a bigger shock, that his mother had pas-sed out on hearing the news.
Isabelle was fearless, but if there was one person she feared in the whole earth, it was the King – King Caesar.
She knew how the confessors broke him, and being the last confessor, she knew she was in de-ep trouble if she ever gets caught by him. She couldn’t even imagine what would happen.
That day, when Caesar’s spell was broken, she and the rest of the confessors flee from the camp, going into a more discrete place because they knew Caesar would come for them, and they were scared of his reaction.
Three days later, the bodies of the confessors that had gone out with Tabitha were found. They had been murdered, but Tabitha’s b©dy was never found.
In as much as everyone thought Tabitha was dead because Caesar’s spell was broken, Isabelle still found it difficult to believe without seeing her sister’s b©dy.
Nevertheless, they continued hiding for a very long time, for months, but one day, their hideout was unfortunately discovered and they were ambushed by the King’s guards.
Isabelle was lucky enough to escape, but every last one of her sisters, were wiped out.
King Caesar wanted everyone of them dead. But when he heard Isabelle had escaped, the sister to the confessor that had enslaved him, he changed the orders and instructed the guards not to kill her, but search for her and bring her to him – alive. He wanted her alive.
So many times, Isabelle had thought of committing suicide, but there was only one thing keeping her alive – just one thing.
She was the last of her kind and didn’t want to put an end to her race – at least, it shouldn’t happen by her own hand.
She was bold and fearless, but when it comes to the King, she was as scared as a c0ckroach. He was her greatest fear on earth, cause she knew how much they had hurt him, and she knew it wasn’t going to be funny if he ever gets her.
At that moment the confessors were his greatest enemy. And since she was the last confessor, she knew she was his greatest enemy.
 
 
TBc…