As my footfalls echoed against the immense walls of the throne room, my mind buzzed with anticipation.
I had waited so long for this, working towards it for many a sleepless hour of my tired, little life. And now it was truly happening.
The Queen, who had ruled her Queendom peacefully and orderly for so long, was dead. I was striding towards her throne, as gracefully as I could, mentally preparing myself for the whirlwind to come.
To be clear, it would be a whirlwind I consciously chose to breathe life into. There would be no more order from here on out. No more little petty rules to live by, no more boring lives lived by the law.
No, now that I was the (not so rightful) ruler of this place, everything would change. I stood for chaos, in all its scattered glory. I even selected my royal armor to truly drive home that message: it was composed of many different materials, scavenged from worn down battle suits.
Finally, I reached the other end of the throne room, the steps to the throne starting right in front of my feet. I climbed those steps slowly, truly savoring the moment.
As I let myself sink into the red velvet cushion on the throne, I started grinning like a fool.
This realm could better start accepting the evil within me.
Or else...
Author's note: My entry for Contest 3 of @Simmy11talk 's Writing Contests
