Royal Blood

The hatch opened, and Drake and Wayland scrambled out. Wayland lifted his plasma pistol, and fired into the Americans. The weapon is terrible to behold, leaving a charred hole the size of a saucer. "Clara!" he yelled up to me, looking at my father with disgust. Drake was right behind him, firing his revolver at the one sodomizing my mother. He held his side, withdrew from her as he orgasmed, and died on the spot, his vital essences leaking onto the splintered hardwood floor. I ran toward them, tears in my eyes.

Wayland jumped down, pistol at the ready. "Please, get me out of here!" I begged. He looked up at my father, a hate I've never seen in him filling his vision. Prescott dumped my mother off of his lap, and ran up the stairs to the balcony.

"Not yet. I have unfinished business." With that, he tossed his pistol to me, and pulled his jacket off. The huge Kukri knife slid from its sheath, already stained with blood. "Prescott!" he yelled, running forward. The Capt of the Americans drew his own bowie knife and lunged at him, but it didn't matter. Singh sidestepped him with the reflexes of a Bengal tiger, chopped his hand off and the wrist, turned the knife over, and split him from belt to brain. Prescott pulled a dueling sword off of the wall, and nervously pointed it at him.

"Stay back! Damned you, stay back!' he said. Wayland tore his shirt off, revealing his muscled torso which I had never considered to be the physique of a soldier until now. He drew the point of the Kukri across his chest, leaving a trail of blood to drip down.

"I am Wayland Winsor Singh! Son of Amir Singh, leader of the Gurkhas, and Princess Victoria of the house Windsor! The blood that flows through these veins was royal a thousand years before you scraped your way to importance. I've watched your damned company make a mockery out of not one but two empires, and by my father's blood I shall have my revenge!" he cried, leaping into the air as Prescott made a lunge. He parried it, sending the rapier skittering on the floor, twisted all the way around in midair, and brought the blade down, splitting Prescott's skull down to the collarbone.

My father turned to run, and was stopped suddenly. He stared into my mother's eyes, the rapier exiting the back of his neck as her once warm eyes became infernos of icy revenge. He clutched at it, stumbled to his knees, and joined Prescott in Hell.

"Come on! The real battle is about to begin!" Drake yelled. Wayland seized me around the waist, and kissed me passionately, deeply, before helping me to the drill tank. Drake tossed out a dead Mole Man, his neck snapped, and closed the hatch. "Hold on!" he said, pushing the lever in front of him, driving us down into the Rajan soil. I collapsed against Wayland's sweaty chest, and sobbed into his shoulder as he held me tightly.

"We are almost there, my love. It'll all be over soon. Time to collect your cousin."