The Tyrant's Tomb

I was too dead inside to feel fear or disgust. Of course Commodus was
still alive. He crawled out of the smoke-filled cavern on his elbows, his
armor half-melted, his skin coated with ash. His once-beautiful face looked
like a burnt loaf of tomato bread.
I hadn’t hobbled him well enough. Somehow, I’d missed his ligaments.
I’d messed up everything, even Frank’s last request.
None of the troops rushed to the emperor’s aid. They remained frozen in
disbelief. Perhaps they didn’t recognize this wrecked creature as Commodus.
Perhaps they thought he was doing another one of his spectacles and they
were waiting for the right moment to applaud.
Incredibly, Commodus struggled to his feet. He wobbled like a 1975
Elvis.
“SHIPS!” he croaked. He slurred the word so badly, for a moment I
thought he’d yelled something else. I suppose his troops thought the same
thing, since they did nothing.
“FIRE!” Commodus groaned, which again could have simply meant
HEY, LOOK, I’M ON FIRE.
I only understood his order a heartbeat later, when Gregorix yelled,
“SIGNAL THE YACHTS!”
I choked on my tongue.
Commodus gave me a ghastly smile. His eyes glittered with hatred.
I don’t know where I found the strength, but I charged and tackled him.
We hit the asphalt, my legs straddling his chest, my hands wrapped around
his throat as they had been thousands of years before, the first time I killed
him. This time, I felt no bittersweet regret, no lingering sense of love.
Commodus fought, but his fists were like paper. I let loose a guttural roar—a
song with only one note: pure rage, and only one volume: maximum.
Under the onslaught of sound, Commodus crumbled to ash.
My voice faltered. I stared at my empty palms. I stood and backed away,
horrified. The charred outline of the emperor’s body remained on the
asphalt. I could still feel the pulse of his carotid arteries under my fingers.
What had I done? In my thousands of years of life, I’d never destroyed
someone with my voice. When I sang, people would often say I “killed it,”
but they never meant that literally.
The emperors’ troops stared at me in astonishment. Given another
moment, they surely would have attacked, but their attention was diverted by