DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MAKING FIENDS; ALL RIGHTS GO TO AMY WINFERY.
The wind was extremely fast and forceful that day in Clamburg. Yet, two brave girls were outside, dressed in lovely clothes. Well, ONE was out there by bravery, the other was out by pure idiocy. "Come on, Vendetta, let's play!" the twelve year old blonde exclaimed. "Why don't you like to play with me? We're best friends, aren't we? You always invite me over to your house to play, you make me food, you give me al those nice, hard things, we have so much fun together! We're best friends, right?" Her blue bow nearly flew out of her curled blonde hair, the blue sash around the waist of her white dress flapped in the wind, and her white slippers were threatening to leave her feet. Vendetta rubbed her dagger, deciding what to do about this stupid girl. Her braids tied up with green elastics were behind her head, and her black little slippers threatened to leave her feet. As Vendetta was grabbing the green sash around the waist of her black dress, and re-tying it in a neat bow, she got the idea. The idea that would show this stupid blonde girl that they were not friends. Vendetta came to a dead stop, which was no easy feat, considering the wind was blowing at 88 miles per hour. Charlotte therefore stopped as well. "What are you doing?" Vendetta made a turn toward a blue house, Charlotte's house. Vendetta pulled out her dagger, and walked against the wind to the blue cottage where a certain grandmother was baking cookies. Charlotte felt weird in here chest. But, not the good kind of weird, she had felt so many times before. It was a bad kind of weird. Like something life changeingly horrible. Charlotte raced after her 'friend', only to wish she hadn't bothered her at all today.
Meanwhile, in the house
Grandma Charlene was baking cookies, listening to the song she first danced with her husband to; thinking today was going to be uneventfully wonderful. She couldn't have been more wrong. Just then, a little girl who had once brought her home, played with charlotte, and made a cake with Charlene, Vendetta burst into the house. "CHARLENE!" she called out in 'that adorable Bulgarian accent'. "In here, dearie." The sweet old woman called. She put her cookies down on the blue counter. Vendetta tackled the old woman, and pulled out her dagger. Instead of reacting the way Vendetta had hoped, by screaming and begging for her life, the old woman smiled, and cheerily said, "Oh, what a pretty knife!" this didn't phase the child from hell, though. Instead of scowling, or growling, the twelve year old immigrant said, "Charlotte's parents are dead. Correct?" "Yes…" Charlene answered, the always present cheer in her eyes, vanishing. "And you are her only living relative, yes?" "That's right…" a grin appeared on Vendetta's face. "All the more pleasure I'll receive!" she screamed, bringing the knife through the old woman's baishe sweater. The old woman's sweater turned red, her light blue pants, white socks and dark blue loafers looked as though they had been splattered with red paint. The walls were bloody, the ceiling was bloody, the floor was bloody, Vendetta was bloody, and the only thing in the room that was free of any drop of blood was Charlotte. The always present cheer in the girl's eyes vanished. It was going to stay vanished for a long time. What seemed like forever. Charlotte walked up to Vendetta, who was pulling the knife out of Charlene's chest, and stuffed it back into her pouch. "Would a friend do that, stupid blonde girl?" Charlotte didn't have a word to say about the girl's comment. Instead, she dropped to her knees in a small batch of blood-less floor, held her head in her hands, and cried. "I didn't think so." Vendetta smirked. "That day in room four was the worst- THE SINGLE WORST- day of my life. You're stupid." The Bulgarian girl left Charlotte to her mourning. "And I hated you since the first day I met you." And, once she was gone, Charlotte forced herself to look into her dead Grandmother's wide open eyes, as though doing this would somehow fill them with life. But, that sort of thing only happens in movies and books Charlotte thought. Then, it hit her. It hit her like a ton of bricks. Vendetta was never my friend. She didn't invite me to her house, I broke into it. She wasn't making me food, she was trying to poison me. She wasn't giving me all that stuff, she was throwing it at me. Her blonde curly hair turned black and straight. Her blue clothes turned red, her white clothes turned black I don't want to depend on anybody. No more friends. No more sleep. No more charlotte. No more! I don't want comfort, I don't want mourning, no… she grabbed Buttons 2, and cut buttons 1 in half. I want revenge! Revenge on vendetta… she went to a mirror, and broke it revenge on vendetta... she went outside, and stabbed Mr. Lee. Revenge on fiends… she killed a random alligator fiend. Revenge on the human race! She just kept walking and walking until she finally ran into that girl. "HEY!" she yelled, grabbing her dress. Keep in mind how different Charlotte looked, so, obviously, Vendetta didn't recognize her. "Who are you?" she asked "who am I? Oh, don't tell me you don't recognize me. I mean, sure I look a little different, but, after all, a few seconds ago, you only RUINED MY LIFE!" "Huh?" Vendetta made an, "I haven't even seen you before right now!" face. Charlotte was angry. She wanted this girl to know what was happening and regret what she did! "Two words, Vendetta," the new Charlotte growled "TEE-HEE!" she brought the shard of mirror down into Vendetta's chest, then slit her throat. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? HOW COULD YOU KILL THE ONLY LIVINGFAMILY MEMBER I HAVE LEFT? JUST DIE, YOU STUPID COMUNIST! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIIIIEEEE!" Charlotte calmed down, walked back to her house, painted it black, and boarded up the windows. Little did she know there was a little boy named Johnny C., doing almost the same thing. And, little did either one of them realize that, in 12 years, they were going to meet eachother.
