*PoV Grace*
I was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Gregor to get home. I was getting worried. He should have been home three hours ago.
The door creaked open and I looked up to see Gregor closing it. He fell to his knees in front of the door.
'Mom,' he said. 'I need help.'
'What is it, honey?' I asked.
He got up and turned around and I gasped. The front of his shirt was soaked in blood and it covered his hands as well. Some had been splattered up his face and into his hair.
I walked over to him.
'Honey, where are you hurt?' I asked.
'It's… it's not my blood,' he said quietly.
I took a step back and stared at him. My baby was not a killer. My baby had not just committed murder. He was not murderer. Oh, how wrong I was.
'I didn't mean to,' he said. 'It happened all of a sudden. I got angry and…. And… I….. Sort of….. Lost it.'
I stared at him for some time until I told him to take a shower.
*PoV Gregor*
The water flowed down my back as I stood, trying to wash the blood off my skin. I got out of the shower and put new clothes on. I looked at myself in the mirror. My reflection smiled at me.
Broken glass littered the floor and my fist was bleeding. I fell to the floor, opening cuts on my knees. My mother came to the door.
'Gregor?' she said. 'Baby, what's wrong?'
She unlocked the door with the key on the door frame and gasped as she came in. She seemed to be doing a lot of that recently. Gasping.
Blood ran freely down the small but deep cuts on my knuckles and I stared at the floor. Brocken glass is pretty.
The glass was still a mirror and my reflection looked at me a thousand times. Just smiling up at me.
'Mom,' I said quietly. 'Am I smiling?'
'No,' she answered.
'Then why is my reflection smiling at me?'
'Honey, it's not.'
'Then why can I see it smiling?'
I was shocked at how angry I sounded. My reflection smiled again and then it stopped and my reflection was me looking down at it.
My mother put a hand on my shoulder and spoke softly to me,
'Gregor, I think you need some sleep.'
So, I went to my small room and lied down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
I ran through the hall ways of a palace I had been in and dreamt about so many times. The palace in Regalia. I could hear screaming and a deep, cold laugh. My mind raced. I had heard that scream before, it was Luxa. I ran faster, and slipped on something that was seeping under the bottom of the door. I looked down and screamed, but no sound came out. I stood, looking down at the puddle of blood around my feet. I opened the door, gasping with horror as I saw what was inside.
It was me, but it wasn't…. well, me. He stood over the mangled, dead corpse of Luxa. Blood splattered the walls and even the ceiling, running along the floor. The other me had blood all over his hands and arms, his shirt and pants, and it was even splattered all over his face. That was what I would look like if that was me. I stood in the corner, watching from a distance. I didn't know that one person could have that much blood.
Guards ran in and attack the other me, brandishing swords and other sharp weapons. The other Gregor killed them all, laughing like a mad man as he did. Then Mareth walked in. He looked at all the dead soldiers and Luxa, his face angry. Then, he looked up at who had done all of this and his anger turned to shock as he saw the other me.
'Gregor?' he asked.
The other me laughed insanely. He swung his sword and Mareth jumped out of the way. He called for help.
'Yes!' the other me shouted insanely. 'Yes! Call more to the massacre!'
More guards ran in and so did Vikus.
'Gregor, what is happening? Did you call for help?' he asked.
The other me swung his sword so that it was only centimeters away from his neck, right under his chin. 'You think I called for help? That's so adorable. Just like your granddaughter! She was so cute! Too bad I had to kill her. You know what? I can still hear her complain!'Then he laughed. He laughed loudly and insanely and coldly.
Vikus hit the sword away and lunged at the other me. He knocked the other me over and wrapped his hands around his neck. I had never seen Vikus so angry. I watched in horror as the other me lifted up his sword and plunged it into Vikus's back.
I sat up in my bed, screaming. My mother ran in and turned the light on. She came over to my side and held my hand tightly. I looked at her with wide eyes.
'Bad dream,' I said.
My mother nodded, making lie down again. She made me go back to sleep, but when I did, my dream just picked up where I had woken up.
The other me's sword had gone all the way through Vikus and he fell to the floor next to the other me. The guards came forward and attacked him, but he swung and slashed his sword, the sound of metal on metal and screams of pain filling the air. The smell of blood was everywhere and more guards kept coming into the room. After all of the guards were piled up around the room, the other me ran out of the room. Mareth and I followed. Mareth turned around as if he could hear someone follow him. He turned around again and followed the other me down a floor into the bathroom.
Mareth cornered him and took out his sword.
'Gregor,' he growled. 'What is wrong with you?'
'Are you going to kill me?' the other me said.
'If I have to.'
'Oh, really? Then kill me. Haven't I done enough for that punishment? I killed the queen and her grandfather; I killed all of the guards in the palace. And I killed you.'
Then, the other me dug the sword through Mareth's body. Mareth made a choked sound and feel to the floor. Then the other me looked up at me. He smiled.
'See what you've done?' he said to me.
He ran at me, sword point towards my stomach. I tried to run, but I was frozen in fear. The sword went through my stomach and splattered blood up the wall behind me. I saw laughter in the other me's eyes. He laughed insanely and then I woke up, my stomach still hurting where the sword had gone through me. The sun was blazing through the open window and the early summer morning air carried the scent of new leaves.
Drenched in cold sweat, I sat up in my bed. Everything in my room was normal. Well, as normal as they could be if you lived in a closet.
Lizzie came in and sat down beside me. She handed me something. A present.
I had completely forgotten! Today was my birthday.
I opened the present to a handmade picture frame with a lost picture in it. It was Luxa and I dancing at Hazard's birthday party.
I hugged Lizzie. She tried to get out of my grip.
'Gregor,' she said. 'You're all sweaty.'
'Bad dream,' I mumbled into her hair.
My dad came in with a tray of food. And another present.
'Happy birthday, son,' he said.
Turns out, all of the presents reminded me of Luxa, making me really depressed. I mean, I loved the presents, but I really missed her. My mum and dad say I have to get over her. But I just can't see how.
Under my bed, there is a gun that my dad had given me when there was a group of bad people in town. It is still there. That gun. I reach under and get it. It still has one bullet. I pull the bullet out and take out my pocket knife. I am craving her name on to the bullet as tears stream down my cheeks.
I put the bullet into the gun and lifted it to my temple. I pull the trigger and-
*PoV Lizzie*
I was writing in my room when I heard a really big bang that sounded like a gun firing. It came from Gregor's room. I ran to his room and screamed.
Blood splattered the room, and Gregor's head. He had collapsed on the floor, gun still in hand. My parents ran to the room, screaming when they saw what had happened. Tears streamed down my face, I walked in to the room. I picked up a shiny thing that was on the floor. It was a bullet. It had something carved into it. Luxa. He had carved her name on the bullet so she was the last thing that went through his mind. How sad.