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Making of a King

Carter’s Hideout

When it gets tough out there...hide here with me.

He floated down from the hole that suddenly appeared in the roof of the leader’s palace.  To the leader he had the form of a fully equipped soldier of the American military.  With him were two young ladies whose pictures he had looked at for most of the day trying to decide if he should commute their sentences and send them home.  As the three floated down to the floor an aid rushed in and started jabbering about a single American soldier overwhelming the prison where the two American reporters were being held.


Kim waved him to silence as the three came to rest in front of him.  He stood waiting, scared out of his wits, but he held his ground until his personal guards would show up.  He waited for them, all the while the American soldier smiled broadly at him.  Turning to the girl on his right he whispered to her in English.  Kim knew it was English as he had caught a few of the words he spoke.


“Mister President, I come before you today to request, no, to demand, your resignation as leader of your people.  I have determined that their further suffering is unconscionable and relief must be granted.”


Kim stared at the woman who had addressed him.  She had spoken without accent, in an intelligent and precise manner.  As he formulated his answer to her she continued to speak.


“It is my displeasure to have to tell you this but, with pleasure there is always displeasure, you have no choice as to whether you leave or stay.  You will be swept away so a new era will prevail.”


“I think not.  Once my palace guard arrives, what is taking them so long I do not know, you will be swept from the face of the planet.  I do not have to listen…”


“You do not understand…your palace guard will not be coming.  Even as we speak your palace is being evacuated, an evacuation that is almost complete.  Once complete I will destroy your palace, leaving you bare and naked for all to see.”


As Kim opened his mouth to respond a rumbling sound started.  The floor of the palace began to tremble and the ceiling overhead began to crack.  The sunlight filtered in through the crack illuminating the dust floating in the air.  As Kim watched the whole palace split in two, like two giant hands had grabbed the roof and pushed it apart.  Just as suddenly the two halves of the palace were flattened by those hands.  Kim was now standing in the middle of the rubble of his prized possession, naked and without his guard to protect him.


“You son of a whore!  You bastard!  How dare you come into my home…”


“Silence!” the roar was deafening.  The glass windows in the out buildings of the palace shattered.


“The gods will take their revenge for what you have done…”


“SILENCE!” the roar knocked Kim to his knees, he could feel that his eardrums had been ruptured.  He could feel the blood leaking from them.


“Before I send you to Hell, I will tell you where and when you have displeased the gods.  You are a petty little man whose only dream was to indulge himself in his own pleasures.  Well you will get your wish.  You will be sent to hell where you will be able to rule all before you.”


“If you are the god’s spokesman, why do you not speak to me directly?” Kim asked getting to his feet.


“I will tell you,” the American spoke perfect Korean with just a hint of an accent, “you are beneath me.  You are lower than toad shit.  And I know that having a woman tell you what to do is an embarrassment to you.”


He immediately spoke in English to the woman again.


“You will now be taken to hell.”


The American snapped his fingers and for Kim all was dark.  He felt no motion, yet knew he was moving.  His feet were still pressing into something that felt like the floor of his palace.  He stood motionless for a long time.  Then a light appeared in the distance.  It came closer and closer until Kim was standing in the middle of a large white room.  There was only one decoration, a sign on the far wall.  It read, “Let all ye who enter forgo all hope.”


“Welcome to Hell,” a voice said out of nowhere.


“Who are you?”


“I am Lucifer the ruler of Hell?  I take it you are my relief?”




“Weren’t you told that you would rule over all in Hell?”




“Then you are my relief.  Good luck and have fun.”


“Wait, where is everyone?”




“Where are all the other occupants of Hell?”


“You are the first to ever be sent here during my rein.  Who else were you expecting?”


“Uh…I don’t know, Hitler maybe?”


“Ha ha ha,” Lucifer laughed.  “What ever did he do to make you think he would be here?”


“He killed millions of Jews!”


“Ah, so you think that because you kill someone you should be sent to Hell?”




“It doesn’t work that way.  For thousands, upon thousands, upon thousands of years Lucifer has ruled here, told only that one day he would be relieved.  But my father has not seen anyone as bad as me until now.  You, he felt, could replace me.  You, he felt, were as bad as or worse than me.  Only you had caused more suffering than me.”




“You will henceforth be known as Lucifer and will rule Hell.  You can do anything you want within the confines of this room.  This room is Hell.  You rule Hell.  Good luck.”


“No wait!  Who will I talk too?  Who will be here to keep me company?  How will I survive without anyone here to look after me?”


“You will live forever here, you will never die.  You don’t need food or water or nourishment of any kind.  You are the king of your domain and I am free.”


“Who where you?” it had suddenly dawned on Kim what was going on.


“Before I became Lucifer I was known as…”


“Yes,” Kim waited with baited breath.


“…Josef Besarionis dze Jughashvili or maybe you knew me as Joseph Stalin!”




“Good-bye Lucifer, have fun.”




There was no answer this time.  Kim was all alone, for eternity or until someone worse than him came along.

The Making of a King I

Copyright © 2009 by Xavier Carter

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