"Yes, Mr sarenson you can collect the necklace tomorrow. .....it's up to you where you want the meeting to take place......yeah,yeah! sure. It works just fine for me. thank you. have a good day!"she hung up with a sigh of relief as a beautiful smile took over her face.
She walked up to the floor to ceiling window overlooking the beautiful skyline of California. The sun was setting. The whole city was bathed in a dark orange hue. She just stood there,unmoving; like a unrealistic statue. Her porcelain skin taking up the color of the setting sun. Long ombre gray hair cascaded down her back. She looked like a celestial being. Perfect in every way. But she knew what she was. She wasn't heavenly, far from it in fact. She was born as something that demanded violence, that wrecked havoc in it's wake. Cold blooded. That's what she was. And she embraced it with open arms.
A lone tear slipped down her cheek, her soulless depths of glassy gray eyes glazed over. Like every other time the truth settled heavily on her heart.
She was alone.
She closed her eyes and all the memories came rushing back. The pleas and cries,the agony,the helplessness.
Blood. Everything a dark red color.
Her mother's beautiful smile.
"Go,my child! Save yourself!"
Her father's booming laugh.
"Princess,I'm so sorry!"
Her little brother's toothless smile.
His grabby little hands covered in blood.
Her skin started to change it's form. The beautiful porcelain now being replaced with sliver. Shiny silver scales. Her lips parted and her tongue slithered out. A thin strip of flesh, divided at the front. The hissing sound reverberated through the room. Her body morphed into her true self. A part of her awakened that she buried deep inside her. For the safety of the people surrounding her and also for the sake of her sanity. Her body had nothing of it's celestial quality left. All that was in it's place were her clothes.
Her eyes finally opened. The greys now non existent. In their place there were something else,something feral. The whites were a clear green. Her irises instead of being round were now narrowed into vertical slits of murky,dark green.
She slithered across the floor,finally rising to her full height. She knew what she was. She was what she was born to be.
She was Elixir.
The last one.
The serpentine queen.
YOU ARE READING
MONARCHY
FantasyWhat are the odds? Of two creatures needing each other? Of them craving each other? Salaciously? Wickedly? Lovingly?
