Alice

~Blood

She is dead. Dead, dead, dead. I’ve waited so log to finally see her die. 
She’s the danger, she’s insane, and she’s the Savior. She will no longer
save anyone. She’s dead. It’s about time. I’ve worked so long for that last
cut. Her madness was so welcoming to me. She was not so mad to begin with.
She was merely afraid, and I used that to my advantage.
A little voice in her head, it was so easy; so much easier than dethroning
my sister. She accepted the voice right away. It was only too bad that they
found her so fast, but that way I had more time to let her suffer, the
assumed Redeemer. When she was admitted, my adviser said we could let her
live, that she no longer posed as a threat. He regretted giving me that
advice when the ax severed his neck.
She was tougher than I though, but nothing lasts forever. I broke her
resistance until she no longer knew what was real and what wasn’t. I enjoyed
every minute of her pain and fear.
I sent her a special nurse, and old acquaintance that she recognized
immediately; and special Pills.
The pills made her scream, cry, and doubt her sanity.
The quiet voice in her head told her what to do. She thought it was her
conscience, but she was wrong. It was mine and she believed me. She believed
everything.
Her escape was a surprise, but no further concern. Too bad about the
Cheshire cat, but every battle has its losses, even this battle. Her escape
was really to my advantage, the only chance to get rid of her. With my
“Sister” I could never be rid of her, and as long as she was alive she posed
a threat… a threat that must be fought before she fought me. She looked so
pathetic lying there on the street half naked, doing what was necessary to
be rid of the pain. I relished her tortures, the expression on her face and
the endless pain he caused her.  It almost aroused me to see her so
helpless. She…the insane one, the Savior, the Redeemer these little idiots
have been relying on. IT was amusing.
While she was delirious after the injection she fell in the broken glass. It
ripped open her arms, her soft skin, and her pulsing veins.  It was
fascinating how her white shirt slowly reddened. I could hardly contain my
excitement at how she laid there, the life slowly draining out of her. As
she grew steadily weaker and the last vestiges of life escaped from her, I
thought about what had happened. I could visually imagine it, but I was
disappointed not to have personally witnessed how the last sparkle of life
in her eyes faded into nothingness. Every doubt I had had about her finally
being dead vanished as he handed me the full vial of her blood. Delicious,
pure, red blood. Slightly infected by her insanity, but it stimulated my
tongue like a fly in its dying fight in a flytrap. It was so sweet, so
delicious, and almost still warm….
I enjoyed every drop as I drained the last of her miserable life. Dead,
lifeless, breathless, timeless, still, dead. Disappeared and forgotten for
all time. I laughed until my chest threatened to tear and almost spilled the
last valued sips of her red life. Only one thing is missing…for it all to be
perfection.
I snap my fingers and he comes as fast as possible. I see the fear in his
eyes, but have no desire to enjoy it. I crave something else.

“Her heart.”
“Her heart, your Majesty?”
“I desire it. You shall bring it. Where is it?”

For a moment he stares at me. I see the fear growing and know what it means.
Hot rage seeps up in me.
His hair rustles softly as he turns back. I rise and open my mouth to speak
he death sentence, but I contain myself. A dampened beat, barely
decipherable, but it is there. Silent. Only one? Two, three four, steadily
more. “No...”  Hardly more than a whisper but loud enough to return. I only
pay attention to the beats. I know what they mean and I know what it means
to hear them. I know what the silence means that follows. She has returned.
She lives, and I have lost her.
I sink, shivering, onto the red cushion and angrily clench my fists. Anger
boils over me in a wave and I press my lips tightly together to keep from
screaming in rage. Fingernails slice my flesh as something crunches in my
hand. I hardly notice it, but I look and see my blood dripping onto the
floor. A dull red. I slowly open my head and look inside it. I am still
holding the vial with her blood. It has broken, crushed in my hand. My blood
and her blood have mingled. With a jerk I drop the broken glass and stare
numbly at my hand.  Hundreds of tiny rips and cuts…red, red, red….red like
death. Everything mingles as I scream without knowing if pain or rage has
caused it. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and blood to blood.
It no longer looks so delicious. I slowly raise my finger to my mouth and
lick it.  Bitter, sour, biting, no longer sweet and pure. It has been
poisoned, flawed, and diseased. It is impure. It is no longer her blood, no
longer mine. It is our blood. The elixir of all life.
But now it will mean her death. Because of her our blood has been exchanged,
has mingled and become impure. I have lost my composure and control because
of her.
No, that’s not true, not because of her…because of him. My eyes feverishly
look back and forth. He is gone. He deceived me. Brought me her blood and
let me drink it even though she was still alive. She made him do it. I feel
it. I smell it and taste it in the bitter remains of her flawed blood. It is
her fault, she planned it, and she wanted to rid herself of my control and
convinced him to deceive me. She will pay for this.  After all that has
happened. Until now the never felt the pain, but soon she will beg to feel
simple pain again after the tortures I will inflict on her.
She has just signed her death warrant with her own blood.

Special thanks to Angie for the translation!!!