Quick Note: Malice is fourteen.
For Malice Queensworth, it all started with her name. If you don't know what Malice means (I hope you do) here's a direct definition.
Malice: The desire to inflict injury, harm, or suffering on another, either because of hostile impulse or of deep-seated meaness.
Some name eh? Malice always pondered the notion of why her mother had named her Malice. It was the day of her mother's [private] funeral, Connor, Malice, and Tom Queensworth huddled around the gravestone, mourning their loved one, humbly dressed in black for the occasion. Connor and Tom wore their best suits and Malice had on a black and white plaid dress with a short, black, velvet overcoat and black shoes that buckled at the sides. The only sign of hopeful color was the silk violet ribbon going around Malice's midriff.
"Children, may I please have a moment with your mother?" Connor asked softly.
Malice and Tom nodded slowly and stood up.
"Come on Tom," Malice said, wiping away tears. "Let us go for a quick walk."
Malice remembered the time when her mother had taught her how to sew dresses and how surprised her mother was when Malice had made her mother a teal dress, a beautiful design, and it fit just right. It was a fairly simple thing, but it'd meant a lot to Malice. Malice was interrupted in her thoughts when she heard a rustle in the bushes. Out of a shrub came a black cat with a white underside and chin.
'How odd for cats to be roaming about here,' Malice thought.
The cat took off again when it saw her.
"Did you see the cat too Tom?" Malice inquired, knowing her brother had hawk eyes.
"What cat?" Tom asked.
Malice sighed, realizing the cat had left. "Never mind."
They then turned and walked through a handful of graves. Before Malice could suggest heading back to their father, she spotted the cat again and noticed something odd and out of place about it, it wore a waistcoat, and was holding a pocket-watch!
"There!" Malice exclaimed, pointing at it.
"I see it!" Tom cried.
For some reason Tom intended to follow it, and bolted after it. Malice scrambled after her brother. Tom continued to pursue the cat. It came to a dip in the ground and slid down it. There was the sound of a coffin lid being slammed shut. Tom creaked open the lid of the coffin after catching up with the cat. [Malice:] Malice, about a hundred yards back, had stopped to rest for a few seconds, but was quickly back on her feet. [Back to Tom:] Instead of a skeleton there was pit in the coffin, with nothing to be seen but darkness.
"Where could that strange cat have gone?" Tom asked himself aloud. "I'll see if I can fish it out."
With that he slipped his leg in, feeling for either the cat or the bottom of the pit with his foot, though he could find neither. Annoyed and disappointed he tried to pull himself out, but his other leg slipped as well, and he found himself hanging onto the edge of the coffin with one hand.
"Malice!" Tom yelped.
Luckily, his sister had just arrived.
"Sorry I took so long but-Tom!" Malice exclaimed in surprise, as she saw the situation her brother was in.
"Oh Tom," she said. "Look what you've gotten yourself into."
With effort she pulled her brother up, but it was almost too much for her too handle. She lost her balance, released Tom, who fell onto the grass with a thud, and fell into the pit of the coffin herself. She let out a short scream.
"Malice!" Tom cried, righting himself as his sister fell…