The Kingmaker System

The Pope, Marvoni Venil, opened his mouth to speak the name, but before the words could escape, a grotesque blob of blood erupted from his lips. His body convulsed violently as he doubled over, retching onto the dark, dirt-streaked floor. The crimson splatter painted a macabre picture, stark against the dim light of the cell.

I instinctively stepped back, my gaze narrowing as the blood continued to seep not just from his mouth, but from his nostrils, eyes, and ears. The sight was grotesque, his body trembling as though the curse itself sought to devour him from within.

"So, you’re cursed too," I remarked, my tone icy and detached. My words seemed to strike a nerve as his bloodshot eyes lifted to meet mine, pleading silently for respite from the torment consuming him.

"Quite an irony, isn’t it?" I added, my lips curling into a cold, humorless chuckle.

"P-Please... let me go..." he rasped, the words barely audible as they escaped his blood-stained lips. His voice, frail and broken, was almost drowned out by the sound of his labored breaths.

I glanced at the thick red liquid staining my fingers, the blood still warm to the touch. It felt like a tainted relic of his sins, a token of his vile deeds.

"What happened with the child last night?" I asked, my voice sharp, slicing through his whimpers. "Why can he only recite the blessing and nothing else?"

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Marvoni flinched at the question, his trembling form shrinking further as though my words held the weight of judgment itself.

"I-I don’t know," he stammered, his voice weak and fragmented. "He... he simply told me that he was laying a trap."

My eyes narrowed, the pieces of this tangled web still eluding me. "Did he go to see the child?"

Marvoni shook his head, the motion jerky and unsteady. "No... He said that... he could do it..."