I wrote this for a school project, so it's not blatantly fanfiction. It's also very short, but I would be honoured if you read it and if you could tell me what you think, it would be perfect. I hope it's not too unoriginal for you.

Bye, Emily xxx


Kings and Queens

Sebastian ran, fled to the roof, only to be greeted with what he feared. There, across blood smattered tarmac, was the fallen man. His body lay, still, as blood, even after death, continued to trickle from his tattered wound. One singular bullet hole, accurately placed to swiftly decimate life and thus minimise pain lay at the base of the man's skull.

Sebastian felt his heart crash, as he gazed across the roof. His usually clarified mind, blurred. Immense confusion contradicting the understanding he was used to. He battled to keep up his stony façade as he walked through the Dead Man's blood. He was sure, if he showed any form of sadness, the lifeless corpse would rise, only to mock him. He did not cry. I am immune to emotion, or so Sebastian told himself, I'm was a killer. He should not feel the contorting ache that seemed to have risen in his chest at the sight of the Dead Man.

Lying in the thick stench of blood Sebastian took the Dead Man's hand. Yet refrained from instinctively checking his pulse. It was too soon for such finality. I should have known, Sebastian tells himself. It was always going to end this way. There was no happily ever after for the villain. Not in fairy tales, not in real life. But they were going to rule. They did, Sebastian corrects. But not enough: Never enough. There was still so much out there, places to conquer, people to kill, arguments to have. However life never goes how you imagine, especially not when you have the whole world against you.

The Dead Man took his own life. He was just another victim. He destroyed himself in a conquest for destruction and anarchy, that side tracked into a lethal obsession with ruining an equally dead man's life. Which he, in theory, succeeded. Only paying the small price of his life, but the Dead Man didn't care. He didn't care for life, or anything really, and would have watched with glee at the scene below Sebastian and himself. It was just another job finished for the Dead Man. Another accomplishment to add to the list.

Sebastian found himself staring into the Dead Man's shallow, empty eyes. Eyes that were once icy bullets, writhing with depth and plot. The Dead Man stared straight back, seemingly watching hopelessness run through Sebastian's eyes. Sebastian flinched and rushed to push the Dead Man's eyelids shut. In attempt to stop his crumbling dreams being discovered.

Sebastian clung to the Dead Man's hand as he watched the sky darken. He realises that though this is over, it is only the end of an era. A new leader must take the Dead Man's place. He, the heir, must rule this complex kingdom, alone. He must rule in the name of the Dead Man, in honour of him. To show that, though he is gone, the havoc that he wreaked remains. What, during the day, Sebastian thought was the end, was merely the gateway to more. The gateway to restless nights and tiresome murders and an abundance of expensive suits.

Sebastian shivered as he realised, on that night, that his boss - He, the psychopath, who had taken the bottle from Sebastian's hand and replaced it with a gun. He, the heartless, who had shown greater depth than most beings Sebastian had ever known. He, with the intelligent and great mind Sebastian had envied. – had left him none other than his empire.

Sebastian rolled onto his side and placed a swift kiss upon the Dead Man's lips before standing. He fetched his mobile out of his pocket before phoning some of the Dead Man's disposable recruits to clear up the body. There will be no funeral, Sebastian thinks as the recruits carry away the Dead Man's body. People like him don't get goodbyes.

Sebastian stayed on the roof a few minutes longer, looking out into the messy lights of London. He hears a siren not too far away. That was us, he almost smiles to himself.

As the sun began to rise over the furthest skyscraper he turned, and retreated back down the many flights of stairs he had, hours ago, ran up. This is it. Time to cause chaos. Time to prove fairytales wrong, to prove sometimes the villain wins. Time to rule the world.