TORN BY ECSTASY BY Vail blackRose

chapter 1

   " to all the writers

whose feelings bleed on

paper "

Zara's monologue from book 4

Now? Now I am nothing but a vessel. A living, breathing weapon.

I turn to the mirror, the scar on my face standing out in the harsh light of the bathroom. The reflection staring back at me is still beautiful, still human on the outside. But that scar... it speaks for me now. It tells the world what I've become.

I stare at myself for a long moment, then I ask the question I've been avoiding. "You tried to feel something, didn't you?" My voice is low, almost mocking. "When you launched those bazookas? When you saw the toys, the books, the dolls burning, didn't you try to feel something?"

The reflection stares back, unmoving.

"Yes," I whisper to myself. "But I felt nothing. I stepped on them. Crushed them under my boots. And I kept walking."

I watch my reflection carefully, waiting for an answer, knowing none will come.

"So why, Adrian?" I ask, my voice hardening. "Why do you want to kill Ivan? Is it because you feel something for him? For Adrian?"

The reflection doesn't blink, doesn't react. But the answer comes anyway.

"Yes," I say. "I do. But it's not love. It's something else. Something darker. I want to kill Ivan because he touched what is mine."

The reflection smirks, the darkness behind it growing.

But he'll never love you, it whispers. Not when he sees what you've become. You're not a hero, Zara. You're the villain. You're the distraction. The weapon. The monster. You're not a hero.

I let the wicked smile creep onto my face as I meet my reflection's cold, unfeeling eyes.

"Oh yes, baby," I whisper back, voice filled with venom. "I am no hero. I don't want to be one. The world is filled with heroes. But now? Now the world will face a villain. Let them meet a demon. Let them meet me."

I smash my fist into the mirror. Glass shatters, fragments flying everywhere. My reflection splits into a thousand pieces, just like my soul.

And now? Now there is nothing. Only emptiness. 

Chapter One

Zara

"Zara, darling, can you please put the book down? At least during the break?" My mother's voice barely breaks through the spell that Prisoner of Azkaban has cast over me. It's not that I don't care about the match—I love sports, I've always excelled in them—but the pull of the imaginary worlds between the pages of a book has always been stronger. Here, I can escape.

I lift my head reluctantly, closing the worn edges of my book. The bright lights of the stadium are almost blinding after being so lost in the shadows of Hogwarts. I look over to the front row of the audience, where my mother sits with her usual poised, expectant look. My father is right beside her, and as always, he gives me that knowing grin, the one that tells me to let my mother's worries slide. He's always been the one to keep things light.