Chapter warning: Character death, Psychopathic portrayal of a character, and quite a bit of blood.
...
In a kingdom of green, a woman in her early thirties sat in a large, velvet covered chair. This woman sparkled with confidence and pride. This woman was the queen of this country.
"Roderich, would you gather up the servants? I'd like to have a bath."
"Yes my lady."
The door shut with a small creak, and Elizabeta stood from her chair.
She pulled the ribbon out of her hair and let it fall over her shoulders. Her eyes were glazed with amusement; this was going to be fun.
Her posture and demeanor screamed power and domination, the way a queen should look. It wasn't just the posture, though.
It was her personality.
"Your highness?"
"Come in, Roderich."
The door was opened once more and Roderich walked in, along with ten or so servants.
The fear in their eyes was exhilarating, Elizabeta thought.
With one smooth motion she picked up the dagger from the side table and walked to the line of her underlings; servants. The heels of her boots clicked with every step and her dress swayed back and forth as she walked, "Any volunteers?"
Silence.
"Mr. Vargas," She turned to face the brown-haired boy, the one with an odd curl sticking out from the side of his head. This was the brother of the Kingdom Of Heart's Jack, Feliciano.
"Yes ma'am." The young man replied. It was obvious he was trying to hide the fear in his voice—but Elizabeta could see through even the strongest of men.
A small smirk played on the Queen's lips as she straightened her posture as she walked to the end of the line; Shoulders back, chin up. "Roderich. I'm going to need a bucket."
Without a word, Roderich sauntered over to the washroom where he retrieved a medium sized metal bucket.
"Thank you. I wouldn't want to miss any."
She returned her gaze to the Vargas boy, and slowly lifted her knife to his face. Her tongue flickered out to lick her lips once before the dagger found a new place in the man's throat.
"Lovino!" A different servant cried, a small whimper escaping his lips.
But his protests were ignored. Roderich walked over to Elizabeta's side, holding the bucket underneath the Vargas boy.
He didn't even have time to scream. Or cry, even. He was dead.
The knife was removed from Lovino's throat, and blood dripped from the large wound, into the bucket.
Elizabeta took the bucket, and Roderich held Lovino in place.
With every drop that fell, Elizabeta's smile grew.
She knew she was sick. She knew what she was doing wasn't normal, and there would most likely be consequences.
But the best part about consequences? There couldn't be any if no one knew.
Blood dripped into the bucket faster and faster until it was filled with red. "Roderich, would you store the body away?"
"Yes your highness." He grabbed the boy's body by the collar of the shirt, and dragged it out of the room, blood dripping onto the floor.
"Roderich!"
"Yes Ma'am?"
"Keep the floors clean!" She growled. Her demeanor seemed to change instantly as she went from seemingly angry to unsettlingly calm.
"Now…" She turned to face the rest of the shaking servants. "Mr. Galante, Mr. Laurinaitis, Mr. Von Bock, and Miss Bonnefoy. Please wait for Roderich to get back, he'll tell you what to do."
Two of the servants burst into tears. They knew their fates.
"Lucille…Ravis... it'll be okay." A man with green eyes, and brown hair pulled back into a ponytail comforted.
Elizabeta ignored them as she walked to the washroom, passing the sobbing man who had yelled for the Vargas boy. He said something under his breath, but the majority of it wasn't heard. The only word that was audible through his sobs was—"Venganza."
She didn't know what that meant, nor did she care.
She slammed the large white door of the washroom, blood filled bucket in hand.
This was her method of keeping young. She wasn't getting any younger. And if she was going to keep ruling as queen, she'd make sure she stayed beautiful.
Holy blood.
That was sure to keep her at her prime.
The blood was poured into the bath tub, but it only covered about the first three inches of the tub.
She slowly undid the lacing of her dress, and let it fall to the ground. Next to go was the petticoat, then boots.
She stepped into the bathtub; the blood was still warm, pleasantly so. As she lay back against the wall of the tub she heard the screaming of one of her maids, Lucille. Ah, it was such a nice sound, too.
It was wonderful, being queen. You could get away with almost anything. No one would blame you. You were the queen, why would you kill someone?
No one even considered her a psychopath; it was her husband, the king who was rumored to be one. But it was the opposite, really.
She was fully aware she wasn't sane.
...
A/N: For those who don't know, 'Venganza' means Revenge in spanish.