Silly Little Games

Chapter Eighteen

“It is with much sadness, that in the space of three days we have found both the King and the Queen dead. Her majesty was found poisoned yesterday by her son, Carter. Without a ruling monarchy, Prince Carter and his wife Demie will be acting as a temporary King and Queen until there can be a full investigation into the death. If you are affected badly by the loss then we strongly suggest you speak to one of the servants as they will be willing to talk to you with whatever grievances you might have” the official sighed, stepping down from the podium where he had not long announced the King’s death. This time however, I was sure that it was not me.

I walked down the hallway, with the radio pulsing through my headphones. Well they weren’t mine exactly; I may have borrowed them from someone without asking with no intention of giving them back. This time I didn’t have to worry because I knew for a fact that I was so part of the Queen’s death. I had a very clear idea of who might’ve been though, because I was adjusting to living in Victus and that meant I was getting to know the people’s true personalities.

I felt someone pull me back and I was slammed against the wall. I pulled my headphones out and chuckled, looking at a fuming Drella. Her eyes were a startling blood red and her fangs fully elongated, and she dug her nails into my shoulders, cutting through the skin easily because her nails were like tiny razorblades. Tiny drops of blood welled at each fingernail, but she didn’t even acknowledge it. She seemed far too focused on being angry with me. “Hey, what’s up you plastic fantastic vampire?” I smirked, seeming pretty impressed with my insult.

She gripped tighter which made me wince. Through her anger I could see a hint of sadness, right behind her eyes and tough exterior. She had lost both of her parents, but she could still put on an image of ‘I couldn’t care less’. “Just so you know, you have another wedding to go to tomorrow.” She growled, however still with a slight smirk.

I looked at her slightly confused, looking past her fake smile that she put on. “Damien didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend” I laughed, trying to pull her nails out of my shoulders. My effort was wasted though, and she laughed at my feeble attempt. I narrowed my eyes as she sliced a vein and blood spurted out, staining the already crimson top from the forest last night. I pushed her off finally which left tiny little cuts in both of my shoulders where she had gripped onto them.

“Oh, he hasn’t. It’s just I always wanted to be a bride and now, I’ll finally get the chance” she smiled, and I looked at her. No emotion, no speech. Then came the tears, and I had never cried so much. My heart felt as though it was being ripped apart and it was all her fault. She took the person dearest to me away. I never admitted that I liked him, but he was my Elliot. Nobody else’s.

**********

When you wake up in an alley, not sure if you’re alive or dead, you know that an argument ended badly. It wasn’t even a big argument, it was just a misunderstanding because of the way words where put together. Maybe this time alcohol did not make things any better, but that was just a better way of negotiating. The person that may have killed you hours earlier was not the person you wanted to see, just after you had woken up from passing out. Trent sat up and rubbed his head, noticing that the faint smell of alcohol drowned his clothes.

“Eugh, I always argue with the wrong people. Now I’m in some sort of limbo” he groaned, rubbing his temples. The world around him suddenly burst into colour, and everything was illuminated in a different stained glass shade, ranging from the harsh reds to the serene blues. It was like being in a trippy dream, only it was as real as the person that had nearly reached him. He took to his feet even though he was stumbling, and ran in the opposite direction. Although it was like a hallucination, it seemed too real.

“Trent, don’t run, you’ll only run into the blank sheet” a voice warned from behind him, and he carried on running living up to his ignorant reputation. He didn’t recognise the voice so he had no reason to stop for it. He could keep on running for as long as he wanted to. No voice or unknown person would stop him, he was his own boss and could make his own decisions. He pulled his coat shut, managing to catch his stake slightly. The red liquid pulsed from the cut on his finger and he sucked it, trying to close the wound. The area around him soon tinted red however, and he fell to the floor.