Vomit

Author's Note: Big warning for character death and vomit! and pseudo incest!

Primrose loved her ‘Uncle’ Khalid.

It was something that amused him and her mother considering how similar she looked to her father, Lorenz, who had an extreme distaste for Khalid in their school days. Obviously, the two’s one-sided rivalry ended as the war went on. They trusted and deeply cared for one another. There was no other man that Lorenz trusted with his children, Florian and Primrose.

Primrose loved her Uncle Khalid much to Lorenz’s chagrin. If only because she took after him and his penchant for trickery and secrets. Regardless, it was hardly an uncommon sight to see the girl with the King of Almyra whenever he came to visit Fodlan. She glued herself to his side, staring into his green eyes with adoration in her indigo ones. He paid it no mind and reassured Ingrid, his wife to be. It was just a school girl’s crush that would go away eventually. She may be heartbroken when it came time for the wedding but she’d find someone else.

“Would you like some tea, Uncle Khalid?” she asked as they strolled the estate’s rose garden. “There’s a lovely blend of leaves that I’d love for you to try.”

He slowly came to a stop and gave her a smile. “Sure. Who am I to reject such a kind offer from my favourite Gloucester?”

She giggled. A hand rose itself to her face to cover her reddening cheeks. “Wait in the gazebo, I will return shortly.”

He gave her a wave as he watched the violet haired girl skip off. He remembered watching her move the exact same way when she was a child. Well, Primrose would always be a child in his eyes. She could be old and grey and he’d still spoil her like Lorenz’s little princess.

Soon, they were seated with the teapot and various sweets at their side. The cloyingly sweet and overly floral scent of the tea wafted into Khalid’s nostrils. He fought back a grimace. Did she load the water with sugar and use pounds of leaves? Normally she served excellent tea, something she picked up from her father surely. Something was off.

Still, he held out his cup for Primrose to fill. She held the pot high in the air and poured elegantly. The rose coloured tea splashed in the cup but made no sound as it poured out of the spout. A well made pot. She always had an eye for details, he supposed. He gave her a nod and brought the cup to his lips. The saccharine stench was only stronger. Bile rose in his throat as the smell invaded his lungs. He gagged. His eyes flickered towards her. She stared at him expectantly, her normally narrow eyes were wide and sparkling with anticipation.

Guilt twisted itself in his gut like a knife.

‘Bottoms up,’ he thought to himself.

The taste was somehow better and worse than what he expected. It was deep with flavour but still absolutely rancid with how sweet and overly floral it was. It felt like he was drinking one of Hilda’s particularly strong perfumes straight from the bottle.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he struggled to swallow it and keep it down. The foul liquid continued to splash and spurt inside his now irritated throat.

Meanwhile, she took a slow, delicate sip from her cup and placed it onto the saucer. “What’s wrong, Uncle Khalid?”

He coughed. Heat pulsed through his body in a way that he didn’t like. Sweat dripped down his body and seeped into the golden robes he wore. His mouth was dry and scratchy but not for long. A rush of vomit spewed from his mouth. A gloved hand smacked itself over his mouth to keep the waste inside to no avail. Chunks of pheasant gushed and popped between the gaps of fingers. Tears rolled down his cheeks as another geyser of puke splashed from his mouth. Acid burned his irritated throat and mouth. He lurched forward, nearly slamming his forehead against the edge of the table, and let himself spew all over the cobblestone. Frothy saliva just barely lubricated his vomit. It still burned. It still hurt. It didn’t stop coming however. There was no more food in his stomach. His stomach continued to lurch and twist. Pure acid rose up his esophagus and ate away at his flesh.

He crashed to the ground as an abortive gush of bile splattered across the cobblestone. Pain exploded in his skull as it smashed against stone. Stars spun in his vision. He coughed. Blood spattered across his clothes and the pile of vomit near his lips.

Calmly, Primrose got up from her seat and squatted in front of him. His vision was fading. Everything felt incredibly heavy. He looked up and saw her smiling at him.

“I love you, Uncle Khalid.”

The last thing he ever saw was his ‘niece’ grinning at him.