A great annoucement befell the City of Deniers as the people of Deniers gathered at the town square. The King of all Denial was to make the ultimate new Life Changing plan. The Deniers were nervous, wasn’t their life so perfect? I mean, to deny all shit and to pretend for every single fucking little thing as they please, as they wish! You can imagine the sculpted life each man could live. To make others a scapegoat and pull wool over their eyes, cover them in lies and let them drown in their ignorance.
The King wept and broke down suddenly at the raised stage he was standing above them all, the Deniers loved and loathed tears. It was crocodiles’ tears! How convincing! Each Denier mentally took note of the precise and exact measurement of emotion the King displayed. Then as it went on, far too long, far too deep, each Denier shifted uneasily. It couldn’t be real… their life was suited for a lifetime of denying. Never to accept the truth.
With not words, but bodies of the royal family carried out as the King gestured to his subjects when the murmurs of the crowd grew louder as to why the reason for his wailings, each body horribly blackened, decomposing with disease as the crowd gasped in horror of sickening realisation.
The King killed for pleasure, and as the shock overwhelmed, all Deniers fell to the ground, simultaneously. It wasn’t the sight that took their last, it was a cold calculated plan.
With the mass of bodies displayed at his feet, the King stood above all once more. He was the lone figure, the survivor.
The King of all Denial, he smiled, and basked in his glory alone.
