Red's Demise

A Whisper of Fear

Red

I wish I could say I was doing good in the world. Ridding it of its waste and evil. But the truth is, I'm no better than those I kill.

I liked killing.

I liked holding life in my hands.

I liked proving I was no longer the weak little girl who wasn't able to save her mother.

It's addicting.

See the truth is, I spent most of my life terrified. Terrified that he'll come back. Terrified not of tomorrow, but that the past may repeat itself tomorrow. And to know I hold so much power is the most addicting feeling ever.

That is why I got the title "Royal Assassin". I didn't just kill a monarch. I made it look easy. I treated it like a normal day. Never bragged or boasted over ale. Instead, I went back to the Manor, collected my coin, and went to sleep.

Perhaps Fenris was right in that I had been shutting down. Or perhaps I was finally realizing I was no longer a powerless child.

Either way, I shall blame the male for my death. He had distracted me. His bare chest and playful grin had been on my mind when I crept into the house. It had me overlooking the corners and shadows. He got me killed.

"Put the knife down," The deep raspy voice rumbled behind me. A strong arm around my stomach barred me from moving as a curved knife was slotted against my throat. The presence behind me was unnerving.

Even in my fight against the Wyvern shifter I had felt my usual cockiness. But whoever stood behind me, they were dangerous. Their every pore leaked power and death. I felt a creep across my skin as my body flushed with an unfamiliar feeling. Fear.

I was scared.

One second I had been creeping into the bounty's home, knowing that he was the only one between the four walls. The next, the shadows had grabbed me and stripped me of all thoughts.

Metal clattered to the floor as I released my shaky grip on the blade.

I was going to die.

I had spent the last 14 years of my life crafting a mask for the little girl inside. Not to hide her, hiding never helped anybody. Really, it was a facade, an attempt to placate the darkness inside and allow that little girl space to heal.

In that time, she had healed and grown. She learned to dance with the darkness, to welcome it and control it. But something snapped when I killed him. When I had finally gotten revenge on my mom's killer. The little girl was replaced with darkness. And she laughed when it consumed her.

Fenris was right in that I had been shutting down. The King wasn't the tipping point though. I had lost myself years ago. It just took them that long to notice it.

Something about being back around the castle though, and running with Ivar and MK, and stabbing snobby princes, had brought that girl back. She was older now, and wiser. And right now, she was absolutely terrified at whatever held a knife to her throat.

What an ironic turn of events.

I steadied myself, allowing my throat to rest against the blade. I was going to face death bravely. That once little girl was upset she wasn't going to get to watch her children throw themselves at her husband while she watched proudly. But she wasn't a coward.

She was scared death was going to hurt. But she had felt the worst pain there was. Loss.

The male who held the knife to my throat stepped up behind me, but not close enough for me to judge his true size or stature. However, I could feel the power radiating off of him.