It was raining really hard this morning so I had to Darth Sidious it to school, but somehow I managed to write the entire 2nd and 3rd chapter instead of doing my homework. I'm probably going to post another chapter tomorrow because I have time before the science regents to not study. I mean that depends on whether I decide to binge watch 3 Daredevil episodes or not, so anyways- This is my first fanfic in a long time, so my writing is not great (it's terrible) and I deeply apple-gize for that, but no seriously, I'm sorry that I can't write very well for you guys. :)
The stars seemed to cringe at her very presence, constellations kneeling at her window, they're glittering heads bowed in prayer. Her lips twitched upwards ever so slightly, dark eyes glowing in the dim morning light. The kingdom was asleep, but she was not.
She was no servant of the crown, no peasant groveling at the King's feet. She's a disease, a sickness, a parasite. A useless, disappointing, piece of garbage. How does that saying go? - you are what you eat.
She laughed softly to herself, her mother's voice taunting her, beating her into the stone. With every syllable came another lash, but she didn't cry, crying was, after all, for the weak. At your age, I was cursing entire kingdoms. Her head swam, no, drowned in pain. Why can't you be like me, what's wrong with you, why are you so useless? Not for long she muses, her eyes sparkling in the fading firelight, not long indeed. Then she smiled that painful smile, her teeth flashing dangerously with every upturn of her lips, every fake compliment, every good thing.
Her smirk turned into a snort, her snort into a laugh, and then there she was, rolling with laughter, because they're so pitiful in their fancy uniforms, with their chocolate and their strawberries, with their hope. They thought they could change her? The daughter of Maleficent? She was a sinner, a devil, a villain, not some wannabe barbie princess.
Still chuckling to herself, she watched quietly as the sun rose over the ocean, it's long golden rays making their way up the shore. She could see it, she mused, the Isle. That disgusting dirt rock in the middle of the sea. Did they create it that way simply to torture it's inhabitants, or was it just a happy coincidence?
"I thought it would be prettier." Evie's voice was soft, every syllable laced with poison - an undying flame fed by the prosperity of their oppressors.
"You expect too much," Mal frowned darkly, her face contorted in an ugly grimace. "It'll be over soon. I'll make sure of it."
"Of course." Evie nodded submissively, her gaze fixed, almost trancelike, on the window.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she wiped at her eyes fervently, her face hardening under Mal's watchful eye. "I'm okay."
"Good. We're going to need you on this one." Evie mumbled her agreement, quickly turning away from the sunrise to study her reflection.
She'd seen it, warped in the glass, such a hideous, retched thing. Is that what Auradon made her? That monster hidden away in the window panes, was that what good was? Evie frowned darkly, her powdered face white with starlit. It would be over soon.
Her slender fingers brushed the top of her head, gently smoothing down her hair with practiced efficiency. She could almost feel it: a crown. Smiling softly to herself, Evie briefly wondered how many rubies she could fit on a dress, before promptly drifting off to sleep, her lips parted in a wide grin.
Water dripped from the ceiling, falling like raindrops on her tear stained face. She could feel her body breaking, her chest heaving, her eyes rolling. She couldn't breathe and then- and then a small hand grasped her wrist, pulling her through crowded streets. People screaming, taunting as she ran past, legs beating and then she was writhing like a snake, flailing in the frosty air, the roof wet with condensation dribbling down her arm, burning through her jacket like acid. A familiar voice drifted up from the smokey windowpanes, leaky fumes biting at her sick eyes, she tried to listen, to hear. Mal.
She was sleeping in a pool of sweat, phantom knives digging deep into her soft flesh, but she didn't move. Paralyzed. Images exploded like fireworks in her vacant eyes, but Mal lay still. Paralyzed.
Sleep finally gone from her wary frame, she hurried down the hallway, her boots clapping against the stone. A phantom audience following her every move as if she were the star of one of Harry Hook's drunken tavern play's. She couldn't, wouldn't be idle anymore.
The library greeted her in a horrid mix of cold tables, perfectly aligned chairs, and books - so neatly stacked on their little shelves, the covers newly dusted, it was sickening, disgusting even.
Her nose wrinkled in disgust, Mal stalked through the impeccably placed maze that was the library. As a little girl she remembers Maleficent, her mother she supposes, frowning as she reads from her spellbook. Away from the blessed Light, drift into that psychic night. The infinite dimensions await thee. ALL the while I will do my work, until such time as I will return you to day.
The craziness, the complete insanity in the way her pitch bounced up and down, the way her eyes bulged, the way her voice turned raw with blinding rage. Little Mal was mortified, curled up in the corner of the room her mother wouldn't let her leave, she had listened in terror as spell after spell failed, her mother's screams rocking her to sleep. She could still hear it if she listened.
Grimacing, Mal came to an abrupt halt in front of the doors. They definitely looked impressive, with their shiny iron lining, and stone faced guards. "Open up. You know it's me." No response. "Family visits are allowed under whatever royal decree thing." She waited patiently has one of the guards turned to her, were they really going to go through this every time?
"The resemblance is uncanny," he smiles and laughs like he always does, and she wants to punch that stupid grin off his face. Taunting the daughter of Maleficent, well she'll show him. "You know what, I think I can see that forked tongue right now," and she has the sudden overwhelming urge to spell him into oblivion, maybe even to a galaxy far far far away. Wouldn't that be fun.
"Move."
The effect is immediate as the guard noticeably straightens, all lines and corners now, "5 minutes." She may be acting 'good,' but that didn't mean people weren't scared of her.
"I know." She shoved past him, and out into the hall, the torches flickering as she breezed by. She hadn't turned her mother into a lizard, as awesome as that was, her magic was nowhere near powerful enough to conjure something like that. Yet.
"Mother, still sleeping, I see." The lizard doesn't respond, not a surprise. "I only have a few minutes, so…" She's not entirely sure why it's been taking so long for this dumb plan to just be over, but Mal doesn't like it. We need to hurry.
She did not scream, she'd swear on her mother's horns… probably. Having anyone inside your head is weird, but having Maleficent read your thoughts. That's the very epiphany of unpleasant. "I know, but there's nothing more we can do. I-" I can feel it, Mal. It's so close. World domination, Auradon in flames. But it's still so far, so slow.
"I know," she tried again, her eyes sparking a violent green, "You have to wait, we have to wait-" No! The plan has to be finished. Quickly, now. Find my staff.
"Why? Mom, I don't think-" Just imagine it, Mal. Mother and daughter ruling together. Matching thrones. Your little friends kings and queens by your side. We could have it all.
"But the staff. Why the staff?" She was loosing it now, images flashing through her mind. Carlos laughing with a lap full of dalmatians; Jay sitting on a golden throne, the riches of the world at his feet; Evie draped in Auradon's finest silks, admiring herself in a mirror, and finally there she was, by her mother's side, the two of them sentencing a poor man to death by beheading, the old man's eyes going wide as they laughed at his misfortune.
The staff is a channel for my magic, with it I can regain my power faster. We can rule everything, Mal. We can have anything.
It's like an earthquake as Maleficent pulls out of her head. The room shifts and tilts out of control, spinning, spinning, spinning as Mal stumbles forward, her knees bruising as she hits the ground. "Miss." The guard from earlier is standing in the doorway, he looks concerned. "Your time's up, Miss."
"Right." She feels like throwing up, as she wobbles to her feet. "I'll go." Waving off the guard's offer of assistance she just manages to walk a few feet down the hall, before promptly emptying her stomach onto the stone floor.
Feeling much better already, Mal squares her shoulders as best she can, which truthfully is pretty pitiful, and exits the library. Not sparing a moment's time, she tries her hardest to walk as calmly as possible back to her dorm. "Evie?"
She opens the door quietly, her voice barely a whisper. "E?" It's still early and most students who don't have anything to do at 6 am, are probably sleeping. At least that's what a sensible person would be doing, but there seems to be a shortage of those around here. "You awake?"
"Mal!" Evie apparently doesn't have the same consideration for the well being of sleeping people. She briefly thinks they would look really suspicious if Ben happened to come la de-daing down the hall, but she quickly dismisses that thought, it's way too early. "Where were you? What happened to your lipstick!"
"What? My lip-" She paused for a moment, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Oh, I was throwing up."
Evie's face darkens for a moment, but it's gone as quickly as it came, and she's got a tube in her hands in seconds, her fingers quickly moving to unscrew the cap. She doesn't say anything and Mal thinks it's probably better to stay quiet too as Evie puts the finishing touches on her mouth. "You went to see your mom then?"
Mal nodded, gingerly rubbing at her forehead. "How'd you guess?" She joked, or tried to, but the serious look on Evie's face was scary, and not evil scary either.
"Mal, you have to stop doing this to yourself. We're running out of time and impatience doesn't look good on my complexion." She pouted, she always did.
"I know. I know." Silence. Evie wasn't whining, Mal knew that, but sitting together on her bed, the first rays of sunlight filtering in through pink frilled curtains, she dared to hope for the first time in years that everything could be better. Smiling softly to herself, Mal squeezed Evie's hand as reassuringly as she could, because-
She, Mal the daughter of Maleficent, was going to make Auradon fall to its knees. She was going to make them beg for mercy. She was going to make them know what it feels like to be broken, to be forced to live like rats; to never see the sun. What it's like not knowing that there's anything beyond the miserable shithole they'll come to call home. She'll make them pay. "We're going to have to alter the plan a little."
Yeah! You're at the end. Great job. Huzzah! Comment if you understood any of this fanfiction. Constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you again for reading, I know my writing is extremely boring, so thanks again for sticking with it. Try and comment if you want me to write more. *two fingered salute and Arnold Schwarzenegger impression* I'll be back.