Right, so, I had two completely different ideas for this Dark!OQ prompt thing. I've written this one first because a) I wanted to test myself and see if I can stomach writing really angsty stuff yet, and b) I'm not going to lie; I've gotten a little kick out of giving friends little sneaks and watching them freak out.

As I mentioned this is angsty and may require chocolate or comfort food or alcohol to get through it. I will not judge if you have the same mindset as Bela and Mickaela (two of my closest friends who also write) and just want to boycott this one entirely.

I'm going to try to write the other idea but it may not be posted before the deadline (even though my other stuff hasn't really been on time either)…

But yeah…

Please don't kill me; I'll try and make it up to you all.

He lays in wait for her cloaked in the shadows of her balcony. The breeze ruffles the hair poking out from his hood, flaps his cape behind him and provides ambient noise as it rustles in the trees below.

This had not been planned as meticulously as it could have been, but he is not in his right mind. A red mist has descended over his eyes, his judgement has been clouded by revenge.

He will kill her, or die trying.

As soon as the large double doors start to open he has an arrow knocked in his bow and ready to release.

For a split second he wonders how such a beautiful woman could cause so much destruction, but then he reminds himself that many a sailor has lost their lives to sirens, their beauty enthrals as they're lured to their deaths. He would not suffer the same fate.

Focussing, he lines the tip of the arrow up with the base of her throat. He'd aim for the heart, but he's not entirely sure she has one.

He takes in a deep breath and on the exhale, relaxes his fingers and lets the arrow fly.

The hope for victory, for vengeance, is short lived when she raises her hand and catches the arrow when the point is scant centimetres away from piercing her skin. With a wave of her hand the ammunition is aflame. Robin watches as the ashes fall to the floor.

He should have known better than to assume she could be vanquished so easily; the title 'Evil Queen' gave no impression revenge would be easy.

She looks up to the balcony and he freezes when her eyes meet his.

Regina can't help the very slight uneasiness at the thought of this man so easily slipping past her defences and almost putting an arrow in her throat. He doesn't look one to be trifled with; the shadows cast across his face make his jawline harsh, the darkness in his eyes is something Regina has seen in her reflection more times than she can count, and from the helpless agony etched into his features she knows he will stop at nothing to avenge whatever he had come for.

He jumps down from the balcony, his cape billowing out upon his landing before gravity pulls it down again to fall against his back.

His hood falls down, and in the light of her room Regina can see his face clearly for the first time.

He looks angry, determined.

"Do you know what you took from me?" he growls.

She quirks her brow. "Should I?"

"If you're going to destroy people's lives, you should at least know how you're doing it."

The smile that appears on her face is anything but sincere. "There's only one life I'm interested in ruining dear, everything else is just collateral damage."

His jaw clenches, hands tightening into fists at his side, his voice is hoarse when he exclaims; "My wife and two year old son are not 'collateral damage'!"

"They are to me," she taunted.

His eyes fill with rage and blood-lust, directed at her. Does she even realise what she's done? The damage she's inflicted on so many people and then just swept them aside like they're nothing?

He charges forwards, a knife in his right hand, his other outstretched towards her intending to grab her – but with a quick wave of her hand he is frozen, immobilised.

She starts to walk around him, her head held high, her posture straight, a sneer on her lips, looking every part the Evil Queen she is known as.

"I simply cannot comprehend what would ever make you think coming after me would be a good idea."

There's a quiet, strained noise coming from his throat and it is surprising that he can push the limits of her magic that far.

She steps back around to his front, and with another wave of her hand the magic freezing him in place disappears.

"Speak," she orders.

He has half the mind to remain quiet just to defy her.

His thoughts must show on his face as not a moment later her hand is held out towards him and there is a pressure around his neck that is restricting his airway and making his eyes temporarily widen in panic.

"When I tell you to speak; you speak." She snarls.

"You need to be stopped," he grinds out.

She lets out a harsh laugh as she releases him, "and I suppose you want to be the one to do it?"

"You killed my wife and son!" He exclaims, fists clenching at his sides at the memory of his dear Marian and Roland. Images in his mind are the only thing he has left of them after the whole village was burned to the ground.

"You already said that dear," she responds in a bored tone, before smirking and adding; "although technically it was one of my knights that killed them. I was probably relaxing with a glass of wine at the time."

He tenses, as if to try and charge at her again, but she's quicker and fixes his feet to the floor.

"Your use of magic is cowardly." He spits, and he is looked upon with dangerous eyes.

"I have been called many things in my time, but never a coward."

He rises to the thinly veiled challenge, holds her gaze, leans forwards and repeats; "coward."

"I'd watch your tongue-"

"Or what?" he interrupts, testing her once more.

"Or you won't live long enough to use it again." She retorts.

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, "Well what's one more name to add to the list?"

A confused frown appears on her face, and she tilts her head, regarding him with puzzled eyes. "Are you trying to plead for me sparing life or against it?"

"I have nothing left." He mumbles before his gaze meets hers. "You stole my happiness from me, my entire future is gone."

Something in his statement makes her recoil. She takes a step away from him and her eyes flicker with something he cannot name.

But in a split second that flicker is gone, leaving only empty darkness and a cruel; "you should have been there to save them."

She turns away from him, takes a few steps that he fights to follow, regardless of knowing he won't get anywhere until she waves her hand again.

"What made you become this?" He asks, voice rising but somehow sounding less harsh than he had been since he arrived.

She whirls around on the spot to face him. "'This'?"

"A cold, heartless monster."

He knew it was an overstep before the words left his mouth; one does not simply break into the Evil Queen's palace, attempt to murder her several times, and then insult her so plainly.

Perhaps it would be easier to just ask her to kill him now.

Then again, maybe he doesn't need to.

Her jaw tightens, he can see the vein in her forehead pulse and as she takes in a deep breath, her eyes become pools of darkness and hatred.

If she scared him before… she terrifies him now.

"That's enough from you!"

Her hand comes up between them again, and that pressure against his airway is back, although this time each breath comes out raspy.

"Go ahead. Do it."

"You want me to take your life?" The tightening around his throat loosens in her confusion. "Don't test me; I follow through on my threats."

"Just do it." He says, but the conviction in his voice is compromised by the lone tear that rolls down his cheek.

She hesitates. He reminds her so much of herself; the lack of hope, that desperate need to just stop existing she had felt before she had been given somewhat of a sense of purpose under Rumple's tutorage.

But the man before her, he's so very lost, and Regina can't help but feel a pang of something that nearly encourages her to try and do something to help ease his pain.

Then he opens his mouth, starts taunting her, telling her she can't kill him, and she has been told what she can or cannot do her whole life, she will not allow this man to add to the list.

And surely he must know that a sure fire way to get her to do something is to tell her she can't do it; the need to prove him wrong has her fists clenching and magic swirling under her skin.

She can kill him.

She still hesitates so very slightly, turns and takes a step away from him to avoid the pleading in his eyes behind the provocation.

He keep talking, keeps telling her to prove who she is; be the cold, heartless monster that she always will be…

And still she hesitates, turning away from him and even telling him to 'stop' in the hopes he'll desist in goading her.

He doesn't.

"The Evil Queen cannot bring herself to kill a lowly peasant? It's pathetic."

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath in, lets him get halfway to calling her 'a failure' before her hand rises and twists, cutting his conversation dead.

The thud as his body hits the floor has her features scrunching together.

It takes a second before she opens her eyes – the reason behind her feeling a little more morose at this death than usual escapes her – and she has to take a couple of breaths before she turns back to look at him.

The reason becomes clear.

She can hear the light, airy voice in the back of her mind; "this is your chance at love and happiness,", "a fresh start,", "the guy with the lion tattoo…"

Him.

The guy who broke into her castle. The guy who tried to kill her after she ruined his life. The guy who had taunted her into killing him by picking at her weaknesses…

It was him.

She had taken his love, destroyed his happiness.

And now the chance to have her happy ending is as dead as the man in front of her.

There was no hope now.

No more happy endings.