Levana couldn't sleep.
Try as she may, nothing could make her drift off to dreamland. Not that she wanted to go. It was a bit of a relief—nothing was worse than suffering through the horrors that her subconscious would conjure up for her. She lay in bed, bundled in blankets, staring up at the ceiling. Akiho wasn't too far away, charging by the wall.
She sighed. Counting the lint on her nightgown was no longer amusing, nor was picking at her fingernails or fiddling with her ring. She tried to resist picking up a book—once she got into one, she couldn't put it down. But it was calling to her, anything to escape boredom. Slowly, she sat up, stretching her arms over her head. Just as a yawn escaped her, she froze in her tracks. Peering over at her door, she listened intently to the faint sound of footsteps that echoed out in the hallway. Levana suspected a maid, taking another tray of tea and cookies to the queen. Channary had always insisted on a little sugar before bed.
Disappointed, she turned her attention over to her bookcase. Her bedside lamp came on with the touch of a button, and Levana slipped out of bed, the floor cold against her bare feet. Standing in front of her massive collection, she looked over the books, title after title, for something she hadn't yet read.
In her peripheral vision, she noticed a little spark of light from outside, fizzling away as quickly as it appeared. Levana jumped, spooked. She waited, listening intently for the slightest sound, the slightest thump. After a moment, when the danger seemed far away, she relaxed, going back to her books.
Levana stood on her tiptoes and slipped out a thick volume, the title embroidered in gold on the cover. She sat back on her bed, cross-legged with the book on her lap; she immersed herself into it, a collection of second-era stories, filled with magic and princesses and evil animals.
Her head began to pound, spinning from nausea. Levana crinkled her nose, a sickening stench wafting through the air. The book fell from her grasp. She stood carefully, nearly falling over. Dizziness overtook her, and she blinked quickly, trying to clear her hazy vision. What was that horrible, horrible smell?
A sinking feeling settled in the pits of her stomach. Gasoline. It was unmistakeable; the noxious fumes making her feel faint. Panic immediately flooded her mind, her heart pounding. A gas leak. Those didn't happen often, but she knew that if she smelled gas, she should get out of the palace. Immediately.
Quick as lightning, she flung open the doors to her balcony, breathing in the fresh air outside. She sighed, the pounding headache already weakening. Most of the city was dark, save for the glowing skyscrapers that protruded up from amongst the plethora of houses and shops.
Levana moved away from the balcony, about to grab Akiho and make a run for it—but stopped dead in her tracks. Now, the room wasn't filled with the scent of gas, but rather, the horrible stench of smoke. Thick, black, bonfire smoke.
Dread churned in her stomach. Her room was quickly infested by the deadly gas, and she coughed as it threatened to choke her alive.
"Akiho," Levana croaked, trying to rouse the android. "Akiho, come on…there's a fire…"
The princess jumped as a scream echoed through the room, ringing over and over again in her ears. The sound was guttural, horrifying—full of fear. Levana's blood ran cold, and she stumbled out of the room, her heart nearly tearing out of her chest. "Selene? Selene, what is it?!" she cried, earning only more screams as a response.
The princess threw herself at the nursery door, gripping the doorknob. To her horror, it was locked. Levana cried out, attacking the door with her fists. "SELENE! Baby, open up! PLEASE!" she screamed.
She pulled against the locked door with all her strength, but it wouldn't budge. She went over to the wall and grabbed a sword from one of the nearby suits of armour. Wedging the blade in the lock, she pushed and jerked until the brass knob fell off and the door flung open.
Inside the nursery, she was met with what could only be described as hell. A raging inferno was consuming every available surface, and thick, black smoke rose up, its poisonous vapour making Levana drop to her knees. She couldn't even see three feet in front of her. She could still hear her daughter's agonized screams of pain and fear, but the whole thing just seemed so surreal, so far away.
She squeezed her eyes shut, the acid from the smoke making them sting. It was as if she were floating in a haze, watching the whole event unfold before her. As if it was a dream. A horrid, terrifying dream. A nightmare. However, her brain was fighting, her conscience screaming.
Wake up. This isn't a dream. This is real. You are being controlled. Glamoured. Wake up. WAKE UP!
Her eyes snapped open, her mind clearing. She managed to find the strength to get up, and she recognized the feeling that had taken over her. She only felt that when she was being glamoured, and not just by anyone, but by her sister.
Channary.
Levana jumped as her ears were filled with the sound of jovial, tittering laughter, that drowned out the screaming and the crackling of the fire. Although the sound was filled with the sweetness of a child's giggle, it send a chill down her spine, which was quickly replaced with fury, pure hatred and anger. She turned around, stepping out of the flaming nursery.
Channary was standing in the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest, her haughty stance looming over Levana. She had a huge grin on her face and her brown eyes were lit up with the fire's light. Normally, when Channary looked at her like that, Levana would slouch, trying to appear as small as possible, but then, she stood tall. She was not afraid. Not anymore.
Her resolve was broken, however, when Channary took out a small rectangular box from her dress pocket. The queen took a step closer, allowing Levana to see it in the fire's light. Her jaw dropped. Channary was holding a box of matches in her hand. Levana felt she had just been punched in the gut.
Suddenly, the world changed. Time froze and the ground lurched beneath the princess. Levana snarled, a sound so guttural and primal that it sounded like an animal's. She saw nothing but red.
"You—you monster! You evil, repulsive WITCH!" Levana screamed. Channary simply laughed again, waving the cursed matchbox in front of her face. Levana seethed as the witch continued to mock her.
"Say whatever you want, Levana. Your word has no value nor influence, so it's just a waste of air, anyway."
"How could you do this to me? How could do this to your own NIECE!?"
"I guess it hasn't already registered in your thick head, then," Channary sneered, slipping the matchbox back in her pocket. "Isn't it obvious? I hate you! You're nothing but a pathetic waste of space, and so is your bastard daughter. You two are nothing but a pain in the butt, so why shouldn't I dispose of you? It's not like anyone would miss you," she said, giggling.
Levana's eyes opened tremendously wide, the glint of insanity that she had seen so many times—in her mother's eyes, her father's eyes, in Channary's eyes—finally making its way to her own.
She picked up the sword that she had flung on the ground and drove it right through Channary's gut, as deep as it would go, until she could see the bloody blade on the other side of the queen's body. Blood quickly stained her pink dress, a wound beyond anyone's ability to heal. Channary shrieked in pain, clutching the hilt protruding from her stomach. The sudden stab had winded her, leaving her too weak to even attempt pulling the sword out. Her knees gave out from beneath her, and she fell with a thud.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Levana licked her dry lips. "Do you get it now? Do you finally—"
"Please," Channary cut her off, her eyes glistening with tears.
Levana's jaw dropped, dumbfounded. "Mercy?" she spat, her shoulders shaking. "You want MERCY?! You, who has never shown and inkling of pity for me, the most helpless of your victims..."
"Levana..." Channary crawled forward, her eyes wide and cheeks glistening. "You know that you don't want this," she sniffled, in her best attempts to look sad and pathetic. "You know how much you'll regret killing me."
Levana could feel the queen's weak attempts at gripping her mind. Help me up. Pull the sword out. Call a guard, a nurse, anyone. PLEASE—
The corners of Levana's mouth curled upwards. "No." She shook her head. "I have many regrets, Channary, but killing you will not be one of them."
"Levana, please..." The fallen queen managed to get back on her feet. She held a hand out, in her last ditch effort for survival. "You're my baby sister. Don't you know how much I love you?"
Rage bubbled in her veins, but she plastered a smile on her face. "Do you take me for a fool, Channary?" she said, her tone artificially pleasant.
"What do you mean?" Channary flinched, trying to pull the sword from her gut. "You don't believe me?"
Levana took Channary's trembling hand, lightly tracing her fingers over her sister's skin. "I wouldn't believe such a blatant lie even if my life depended on it."
She then gripped the hilt of the sword, pulling it out of Channary's middle and driving it back in even harder, the sickening squelch of bloody flesh increasing in volume as Levana twisted the blade back and forth. Channary's eyes rolled in the back of her head, bloody saliva dribbling from her lips. Trickles of red ran down from her nostrils, like crimson streams. Levana had expected screams of terror and pain, but the queen started to laugh instead—sharp, nasal, delirious laughter that came straight from a horror movie. It was a sound that Levana would never be able to forget.
The princess let out a shriek as her sister's hand swiped her cheek, the queen's sharp nails digging into her skin, leaving stinging cuts. With a roar, Levana pushed Channary into the room, right into the awaiting flames. The queen threw her head back and continued to cackle, even as she fell into the fire, the long hem of her gown quickly burning.
Soon, the crackling of the inferno drowned out Channary's dying laughter, until no trace of her voice remained.
The queen was more.
Levana held her hands to her nose, covering her mouth, tears streaming down her face. The reality of what she had done settled in her mind, booming loudly. She had killed her. She had killed Channary. She shook her head in denial. No. She couldn't have. Not ever.
Murderer.
She could hear a voice—not quite her own, but a twisted version of it. Levana banged her head against the wall. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't shut up.
MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER!
Sobs quickly wracked her body as she stared at the fire, the horrid stench of burning wood and flesh invading her nose. "Selene…" she whimpered, forcing herself to her feet. "SELENE!"
Levana pushed herself into the nursery, crawling below the thick smoke. The scalding floor burned her knees and her human palm as she scurried about, dodging the burning furniture and wooden beams that fell from the ceiling. Her vision was blurred by her tears, her mind running into overdrive. "SELENE!" she screamed, ducking under a falling chandelier. "WHERE ARE YOU?!"
Her fear had turned into full-out hysteria, and she was no longer able to see straight. The heat was overwhelming. This is it, she thought. This was the end. She was trapped. A barricade of scorched debris blocked her exit, and a wall of fire guarded the way to Selene's crib, like the angel guarding Eden. The inferno surrounded her, leaving nothing in her sight but blinding orange.
With a final shriek, she dropped to the floor, grey ash attacking her tongue, and she gagged. Never had she tasted anything so foul. Coughing, she glanced around, her hand landing into something wet.
Blood. Channary's blood, to be precise.
Levana's eyes stung as she glared at the pool of sticky, at the red coating her fingers. She swirled it around for a moment before bringing it ever so slowly to her face, lathering it on her lips as if it were a deep, luxurious rouge. She smacked her lips together, pursing them and smiling, a demonic cackle tearing its way out of her throat. She imagined how pretty she looked, with her lips red red red. She relished at the taste of Channary's blood on her tongue, washing away the ash.
She howled in pain, part because of the burning fire, but mostly because deep down, she could feel the blood on her lips, her hands, wiping away her innocence as well.