Hello everybody! It's finally time for my first chapter! So far, this isn't looking like much of a fanfic.
Don't worry. The rest of the characters will come in soon. yes, I know it's short. it's a forward.
Enjoy~
Forward
I let the bloody rope slide from my hand as I admired the scene.
My entire household... My mother, My father, my brother, my sisters, the household staff
- all laying pale and lifeless on the drawing room floor, with bright red, bloody rope burns circling their broken necks.
It was beautiful, like a dream. like the reoccurring dream I'd dreamt every night until now, but this was true, these people had put me through hell and back, and now I had gotten rid of them. Every single bloody last one of them.
Quietly, I slithered out of the tiny, black room into the hall, and started towards my brother Hans's room. I had this all planned out before I committed the deed:
Do it quickly and quietly, grab some clothes, cut my hair, pick their pockets and get out. Head out towards London. Be rid of them forever.
I grasped my brother's door handle and turned in slowly. The dim light of the hallway filled Hans's vacant room. There was nothing in it but a small bed and a cherry wood wardrobe lined up next to a small, open window with silk curtains. I hesitantly took one step onto the polished wooden floor. Click! My shaky footstep echoed through the bare room. I quickly headed towards the wardrobe and opened the bottom drawer. I grabbed the lacing on the top of my blood soaked tea dress and pulled it undone. I undid the abalone buttons below, and let it fall to the floor. I grabbed a pair of my brother's pinstriped pants and black suspenders and pulled them over my legs. Then I undid my undershirt and replaced it with my brother's huge, brown work shirt. I quickly buttoned it up and placed a dark navy blue cravat over the collar.
I closed that drawer and grabbed his gray jacket and over coat as I headed out of the room and up to the hall to my sister Sarah's room next door. I headed straight to her dresser and grabbed the pair of silver scissors she kept in the chest upon it. I took a few second to admire my long, silky, brown hair in the mirror before I sheered it straight off. It felt like a shame… but not really. I took a deep breath, and bunched my hair up in one fist. I closed my eyes.
Shink!
I watched 8 inches of my hair fall to the dusty floor. I turned my head to the mirror. My hair barely covered my ears now. Oh well, it was for the best. I trimmed off a few uneven edges and tucked on side behind my ear. It was short enough. I looked different. Now it was time to grab my dad's money and start my trek out of the country side and into the city of London. As I wandered down the gloomy hall, I pondered on my actions…
I was running away from murder. I couldn't use the same name anymore… or gender, to be safe. I was Estel FritzHouston, a tall, pale 23 year old girl. The moment I left the house I would become Jean Hanibal, a sweet, naïve 25 year old man. It just seemed right to me at the moment, though it would take some getting used to. I was lucky that my tiny chest was easy to hide. I reached into my father's pocket and drew a few coins to slip into my own. I turned, left the drawing room, and headed towards the front room. As I approached the doors in the front, I smirked to myself (though there was no one to see it anyways.) "Jean Hanibal." I whispered to myself. I couldn't help but giggle. "Jean Hanibal"
It sounded so right.