Asclepias curassavica

Colchicum autumnale

     The Kiddo followed Kristopher through the large mass of people. Weaving in and out of the throbbing throng of people, Screar finally saw who the strange, intimidating man was taking her to see. Her target, Lizabetta Griscoe, stood with an open mouth as Kristopher stopped next to Lizabetta. Screars' hand tightened on the knife hidden in the folds of her skirt as she got closer to her target.

     Suddenly, as Screar finally came face to face with the woman who would be the queen in the corrupted game of proverbial  chess, she heard a familiar, lilting voice behind her.

     "Who are you?" Jillian hissed in Screar's ear as she pressed a blade against Screar's back.

     It was not pressed enough to draw blood, but Screar knew that attempting to get away from the familiar woman would be impossible. Screar remained stony faced, staring instead into Lizabetta's prideful eyes. 

"Jillian, why don't we retire to the library?" Lizabetta said cooly, turning to walk down a dimly lit hallway.

None responded, all walked calmly down the hallway, guards shielding Screar from the sight of the other gay party-goers. Jillian twisted Screar's arm, as if she were expecting a response from the stranger who looked too much like her. 

"Jillian, not yet!" Kristopher whispered harshly into his wife's ear. They turned into a spacious and very full library, where the sound was swallowed like a morsel.

"Now, then. Jillian, bring her to this chair. Use this," Lizabetta tossed a spool of rope to Jillian. "Tie her tightly." Lizabetta stated, authoritative.

At this, Screar twisted Jillian's arm around her body and flung her to the floor. Before Kristopher or the two burly guards could react, Screar flung herself at Lizabetta, striking her head and tying her to the hard wood chair in a matter of seconds. As the Kristopher and the guards pulled their guns out, Screar held a wicked sharp knife to Lizabetta's throat. 

"What-"

"How-"

"Stop-" 

The guards and Kristopher talked over each other, alarmed and angry at their underestimation. Jillian picked herself off of the ground, enraged.

"Who employed you?" Jillian raised her voice and her gun, only to let it hang limp at her side. Screar and Jillian gawked at one another. For the first time, Screar opened her mouth, speaking in her raspy autumn voice.

"I have no employer. But I must know, who the hell are you?" Screar tightened her grip on Lizabetta's shoulders and kept the other people in the room in her sight. She mentally reevaluated her plan, anxious to be done with her task. She could leave no witnesses. 

"Well, sugar, that's exactly the question I have for you. And. if you are not employed as you say, then surely you don't mind telling me why the fuck you're here right now? You have no business here, honey." Jillian stared coldly at Screar, once again raising her gun. 

"I guess I don't mind, since you'll be dead in about a minute. I shall humour you. I am Screar. I am the one who will kill you."

"Screar? What the fuck kinda name is that?"

"You should have more manners." Screar's knife dug deeper into Lizabetta's throat. 

"Jillian! Stop it, we have to keep Lizabetta alive." Kristopher walked in front of his wife, assuming that would calm her down. Jillian stepped backwards, letting Kristopher take the stage.

"Screar, that's your name? Alright, Screar, why are you trying to kill Lizabetta?"

"Her life to protect the lives of the children." Screar surprised herself by having tears in her voice. She closed her eyes to reign in her emotions. Trembling with rage and fear, Lizabetta began to speak.

"Wait, you don't understand! I'm against that bill, and I've not signed it yet. I plan to save the children, and I'm arranging a coup. I'm only pretending!" Lizabetta begged. 

Screar appeared taken aback, unsure of this outburst. "If this is so true, then why the rumours of your signing of the bill?"

"Because I said I would, and once all the officials have gathered here, I plan to euthanise them. I've hired Jillian and Kristopher, here, to help me with that. They've been professional hitmen before. Right?"

Jillian and Kristopher glanced at each other, and their necklaces. 

"I suppose you could say that." They said in unison.

Lizabetta gazed hopefully into Screar's eyes. Screar relaxed her grip and stepped away to consider the information they had just given her. If Lizabetta was telling the truth, then the only way to be sure was to be rid of her and the government representatives. Screar turned to face the red-faced, angry, gun-wielding hitmen. Opening her mouth, she spared Lizabetta's life.

"Alright, then. I'm in." 

Kristopher, Jillian, and Lizabetta looked at each other. Lizabetta let out a pent up breath, body slackening against her tight bonds. 

"What do you mean?" Lizabetta asked.

"I mean, I'm in. I'll kill the officials." 

"Bloody no!" Jillian roared, "I don't trust this girl. For all we know, she's someone sent to kill us all. She even looks like me!"

"Well, considering we look so much alike, I believe you to be my sibling." Screar said softly. She walked up to Jillian, and considered her. She reached up to touch Jillian's face as Jillian pulled away sharply, spitting at Screar's feet.

"Don't touch me you filthy urchin." Jillian said, disgusted at the unwarranted and unwanted contact.

Screar quickly assumed a stoic facade, inclining her head downwards in submission. Soon, she would come to understand her past.

 Perhaps, even, her future.