• They were all so annoying. All of their useless chattering. Their childish little morals and their lack of taking action against their foes. Was I the only one who could do anything right? As the Families briefing for their next chattering continued I was getting more and more annoyed. They were talking to much, complaining to much. Some were asking me things but I was to pissed off to answer. Our last mission had gone up in a puff of smoke because of all their stupid morals and now this one would be the same. How the hell did I wind up like this? Oh, yeah, I remember…

    I was fourteen. I lived alone with my twin sister in a house inside of a huge village. We may have been nothing but mere peasants but that was about to be changed. the richest heir in town was courting my sister, they were to be married in the fall. Then IT happened. Some days my sister would stay at a private house that her fiancé owned while I was left alone at our small home. I would often come and bring them flowers and join them for dinner.
    It was never a problem, my future brother in law WAS a very nice man. The food was always nice too, but I knew that some thing else was going on underneath them just getting prepared to live together. He would always usher me out as soon as I was done eating and my sister would not return until early morning.
    Then the IT happened. Out of nowhere my sister got really sick, throwing up all over the house. I wished to get a doctor but she begged me not to. She said that it would ruin her marriage. I couldn’t understand how a small flu could possibly have the power to ruin her marriage but I trusted her and kept my mouth shut to everyone.
    Her size had begun to increase as her wardrobe did. Her fiancé had hired a dress maker whom made her all of her clothes. Sister began to request baggier dresses and of course the dress maker obliged. That is when I had begun to expect that the flu was more than just a flu.
    Their wedding was growing nearer when my sister had her child in secret. I was the one who helped her birth it. After she had recovered she went to see her fiancé, the would be married the next day. There was only one thing, I wasn’t the only one who had witnessed the birth. My sisters dress maker had come over to make sure the wedding dress fit exactly right and had witnessed it. She went ahead of my sister and told her fiancé what she saw.
    He had sent a messenger to tell me that I was not to come that night after my sister had left. I sensed the wrongness that was threatening to fill the air with its stench. As soon as the messenger left the scent increased and it was the first time that I became furious. I didn’t understand the feeling until later. I didn’t understand why I was so furious. I didn’t understand until after the end of that night.
    I followed the sense of wrongness to my future brother-in-laws house, the baby was in a basket in which I held carefully so the girl would not be woken. None of the lights in my brother-in-laws house were on as I approached. I was about to go investigate when I say that the door was open and inside stood him and my twin.
    I quickly hid behind a tree and peeked out toward the house. my brother-in-law’s back was to me and my sister was to absorbed with him to see me. But she wasn’t absorbed with love or anything else, her expression was that of fear. I was confused since I did not know that that wrench of a dressmaker had told him. Then he did what I had never expected anyone to do ever before me.
    Before I could do anything he had his sword out and sliced open her neck. Blood leaked down and stained her pure white dress as he grabbed her by the head and lifted her off the ground. Time stops, all I can see is her feet dangling there, her face is hidden by her fiancé’s body, droplets of red fall onto the floor beneath her feet, she is crying. I drop the basket and take a step forward, my hands at my side. I don’t know what to do. I think that I’m dreaming. Then he drops her limp body to the ground, one of her hands are on her stomach, the other above her head, her beautiful red hair is a mess, her yellow eyes are closed. Blood tears no longer stream from them, but the trail left from the brief end of her life are still present. At least it looks red to me.
    I will never know. I am filled with sadness, and with that sadness comes rage. I hate him. He killed her for no reason. She loved him, and he killed her. My hand burns, I place it on the tree next to me and out of it oozes a red dye which sinks into the tree next to me. More and more goes into the tree and runs like a path through its roots into the ground as the almost dead man cleans his sword of the innocent blood. The red stain not only makes its way into the house but it makes its way to my heart and spreads there too, it is still there today. The stream stops as soon as it has surrounded the dead man, and catches fire.
    He screams, and I watch. He drops his sword, and I watch. He tries to run, and I make the flames engulf him. He falls, and I smile to myself. He is dying. He is dying. The rest of the house soon ignites, and I am still smiling. I begin to laugh, large bubbles of hysterical laughter leaving my body as my dress is soaked with my tears. He is dead. The evil man is dead. The dead man is dead. My brother-in-law is dead. My sisters fiancé is dead. My sister is dead. My twin is dead. My sisters child is…crying.
    I snap back into where I am as the house takes its last breath and completely becomes ash. The child is crying. I am crying. My sister is dead. I take the baby back to my empty house and feed her milk from our dairy cow.
    She happily accepts the bottle of warm milk and drinks. She doesn’t have a care in the world. Her mother and father are dead. And the rest of her fathers family will follow.

    To Be Continued.