Kendra twelve

4 0 0
                                    

Two more days until the ball. I asked Charise if I could pick out a different, more mobile, dress but she says it's too late. Great. I can manage though.

I walk out into the hall and move a picture frame. It's an original copy of Lady with an Ermin. Behind it is an indent in the wall and a lever, which I pull. It opens a portion of the wall where I type in four different passwords. Then the wall opens up completely and I step inside, closing it behind me. We have a few secret rooms, or secret doors around the palace but this is the only one that I truly care about. The weapons room. Guns, knives, bow and arrows, you name it. And apparently we have nukes as well now, but they're obviously stored somewhere else.

I walk around the room, my head almost hitting the ceiling. I'm looking for a good knife. As I walk my mind begins to formulate a plan. He will come and I will somehow lead him outside. Then, once we're in a secluded area it won't be too difficult to kill him. I know I can't lead him far but even if I get imprisoned or killed, it won't matter. As long as he's dead. A gun could work but it would draw too much attention to us. I need this murdur to be very personal. Not a public stunt. I want him to feel so much pain and so many emotions while lying helplessly under my dagger.

I wonder what my parents are going to use the Bombs for. Where are they bombing? Maybe that's why the ball is so big this year. A distraction of sorts. To bring all the royals here and murdur their people, as well as destroy their empires. They'll be stuck here, helpless. I don't like to think it but in a lot of ways my parents are just like me. Power hungry and selfish.

A black dagger with a short but sharp blade sits on a counter. Yes. I take it and feel it to ensure it's in good condition. I'm not sure if it's getting old so I slice my arm. I feel a sting of pain but I like it. Quickly it's gone and bright red blood starts dripping out of my arm onto the floor. It works great. My blood pours onto the floor. Perhaps I cut a bit too deep.

I step outside, the light from the windows almost blinding. I ask Charise to clean the blood, and she steps inside after a slightly concerned stare.

I put the knife in my drawer and walk down three flights of stairs to the basement, which is the training center. I did 100s of reps of almost everything, increasing weight and intensity until I couldn't feel my legs and everything turned blurry. I stopped and threw up. Then I did it again. After a few hours I couldn't even walk up the stairs so I sat for almost thirty minutes, just staring at the mirror. Then, I walked upstairs, took a cold bath and went to bed. The sun was just setting. 

His blood on my handsWhere stories live. Discover now