He was a monster, a twenty one year old king to a once beautiful kingdom that he turned into a wasteland. It was all intentional, all in his own design, and he prided himself in the land where everyone feared the very mention of his name; Marluxia.

All who dared defy him were killed along with their families, and a select few had their skulls hanging on the stakes bordering the outside of the kingdom. All of his would be assassins were either killed at his hands, or waiting on death row to be killed. He found it a fun pastime.

He knew his parents would strongly disapprove of his ways; they had been the ones to build the kingdom into its once beautiful state. His mother had been kind and loving, she would go down into the village once a week and give meals to the orphans, and his father had been wise and generous, giving money to the poor and negotiating settlements before things busted out into full blown war. Marluxia thought that idea was stupid now. Now, he used people as mere objects, as toys, he used his power for his own selfish motives, and he killed just for the sake of killing. Many people said he went full on crazy after he took over, they said he kicked himself right in the face, and, usually, those people ended up dead at his feet.

For all his rotten ways, he was handsome, had a twinkle in his eyes, and a sugary smile. He had a slender face, high cheekbones, cat-like ocean blue eyes, a straight nose, and perfectly shaped lips, he was tall at six foot six, broad, and his most unique feature was his odd dull pink hair that fell in ruffles to his shoulders. One wouldn't expect a man who looked and spoke like him to be the ruler of such a desolate wasteland.

On this particularly dreary day, Marluxia sat in his throne room, his head resting on one of his gloved hands, and with his other he played with the balls of light he had the power of conjuring. In short, he was bored. He hadn't got to kill anyone lately, and it was getting on his nerves. He had half a mind to just kill one of his subjects to dispel his boredom even a little bit. A knock sounded on the huge wooden doors leading to the throne room and Marluxia snapped, "What?" his deep voice echoing throughout the large room.

"We have a traitor for you, your majesty!" At this news, Marluxia felt his lips curl up into his pretty yet cruel smile.

"Bring them in."

The doors opened and two of his soldiers came in with a girl who wasn't struggling against them—Marluxia found this strange—and they threw her down on the steps leading to his throne. "The girl is charged with speaking out against your reign, your highness."

"She doesn't agree with me?" Marluxia asked, leaning forward and resting his chin on his folded hands. "And why not?" The girl remained silent, keeping her gaze on the red carpet on the steps. One of the soldiers kicked her.

"Answer him, wench!" After a moment she said in a quiet, pretty voice,

"Who does agree with him?" Marluxia narrowed his eyes.

"Elaborate."

The girl looked at him with big, green eyes and said, "Aren't you just going to kill me?" He smiled.

"Haven't you ever seen a man in the Bear Ring?" The Bear Ring here was a fenced in ring where Marluxia would sometimes throw in traitors to be mauled by a bear. "The bear doesn't kill the man right away. He plays with him a little, so come on. Let's play." Marluxia stood and walked down to her, gripping her chin and making her look at him. "Why aren't you showing fear, girl?"

"I'm not about to give you the pleasure of seeing me afraid of you," she replied. Marluxia was surprised that she kept eye contact with him, and he cocked his head.

"Tell me how you went against me." He said slowly.

The girl stared at him for a moment. "You want to know?" she asked.

"Yes," he growled.

"I'll tell you. Everything you do, everything, is disgusting. You kill just because you feel like it, or you're bored, you take children away from their parents for no good reason, and you burn down the houses of people who did nothing wrong. All I did is say I disagree with what you do. But earlier you said elaborate. So I did."

His eyes narrowed into little slits, and he stood, ramming his boot into her side in the process. She fell on her back, and gave no sound. He didn't like that. He kicked her again and again, and while her face registered that he was indeed hurting her, she still gave no sound, not a grunt, not a yelp, not even a little sound in her throat. So he kicked her harder, knocking her down to the floor below the steps. "Put her in the dungeon," he growled. "I'm not done with her yet."

Mia wasn't thrown into the dungeon like she expected she'd be. The soldiers she was traded off to were surprisingly kind to her, they apologized over and over for what they had to do, and one of them even promised they'd smuggle part of their dinner to her later. Her wrists were indeed chained to the stone wall behind her, but not painfully, thank God, and although she was terrified, she remained calm.

Before she could see the nice soldiers again, the door to the dungeon opened and there stood the king, his body and face darkened from the contradicting light from the hall behind him, and dark from the large room in front of him. She watched him as he walked down to her, and she turned her eyes away when he leaned down to look at her. "Look at me," he commanded in an emotionless voice. Hesitantly, she did. "What is your name?" Swallowing, she replied,

"Mia,"

"Mia," he repeated. "Such a lovely name. Do you know mine?"

"Marluxia," she whispered. He nodded.

He unchained her, and she pulled her wrists down to rub them. "Why didn't you just kill me in that room?" she asked him. "I told you how I defied you,"

"I know you did," Marluxia replied with that sugary smile. "But you didn't show me pain when I kicked you." She raised a red eyebrow.

"That's why you didn't kill me?"

"That's right."

"So…you'll kill me if I show you that you're hurting me?"

"Maybe."

He grabbed her arm and turned, pulling her toward the stairs leading away from the dark dungeon, and she blinked in the brightness of the hallway he yanked her to. "Do you really have fun with this?" she asked him. "Do you get some kind of sick kick out of seeing others suffer?" He threw her to the ground and held her there with his foot.

"Yes," he snarled. "What's it to you?" She stared blankly up at him.

"It isn't." Glaring at her, he removed his foot and said,

"Get up." When she didn't make a move, he rammed his foot into her side like before. "I said get up!" Slowly, Mia obeyed, ignoring the screaming pain in her side as she pulled herself to her feet. "There. Isn't it better when you just obey me?" She didn't answer, and when he took her roughly by her arm she knew she'd get a bruise from it.

"Where are you taking me?" Mia feared he was going to take her to some torture room, or, even worse, take her to his chambers, and her heart jumped. She'd be damned if she let him rape her. When he didn't respond, she pulled on her arm and said, "If you think I'm going to let you do anything like that to me you might as well just lop my head off right here," she growled. "I am not your toy!" Marluxia turned and smiled.

"You're a fighter I see. Don't worry, pretty girl. I won't do anything to you right now. Right now, I merely want to take you to your room." Mia blinked.

"My what?" Marluxia's smile widened.

"Your room, darling."

He pulled on her arm once before moving again, guiding her up a set of spiral stone steps to a single door at the top, which he opened. The room was large and surprisingly clean; then again, Mia noticed that Marluxia's castle was pretty immaculate. He must've been a clean freak when it came to his own abode.

The bed in front of the large window was big enough for four people at least, and covered with beautiful blue silken sheets and fluffy pillows, the dresser was a grey white and had beautiful flowery designs on it, and Mia noticed it had a matching wardrobe to accompany it. The desk against the wall near the door didn't match the rest of the furniture, but she could tell it had been used a lot in the past, for a nearly empty bottle of ink still resided on it, along with a small stack of yellowed papers.

"Why…why would you…give me this room?" she whispered, looking back at Marluxia. His smile was sinister.

"I told you I like to play. And I am going to play with you for a while. Might as well give you a room right?" Mia's heart stuttered, but she refused to let him see her fear of him. He leaned down and brushed his lips against her temple before leaving, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

Marluxia was unable to sleep that night, which was unlike him. Usually he was out like that in the red light of a fire burning somewhere in the village, but tonight, he just couldn't find it in him to finally fall asleep. It was that damn girl. Mia. Her child-like face kept creeping into his thoughts. Her round face, wide, emerald eyes, upturned nose, and full, pink lips kept showing up no matter how hard he tried to push it away. The thought kept whispering to him, but he ignored it as hard as he could. You want her. You know you do. But she hates and fears you, so you can never have her. Doesn't that piss you off, Marluxia? Doesn't it anger you? Well, yes it angered him, but he didn't feel like doing anything about it right now.

He had a busy day tomorrow; kill five of the men waiting on death row, go into the village to watch his subjects tremble in fear, interrogate one of his soldiers suspected of treason, and then, of course, deal with Mia. He had a feeling that last one would alternate positions with the other things he had scheduled. But he didn't want to kill Mia. He wasn't exactly sure if he ever would, if he would just keep her in his castle as his own personal toy, even if she claimed she was nothing of the sort. She would soon understand that she was his. His.

He fell asleep on this thought.