So Ophelia went and got herself killed.

And the Black Rose was being branded a traitor.

Salem laughed maniacally, the mirth never far from his voice. He arrogantly dangled a single, white invitation from his fingertips, with a sly smirk tap dancing on his lips. In his other hand, he held a glass shard, his own reflection staring up at him with the same, prideful smile.

Brown bangs brushed past his forehead, and even, carmel eyes stared out at the handsome face. The same, unique black rose was strapped to his throat, his own, pale skin shimmering along the lines of darkness. There was a cruel gleam embedded within the pupils, one that even Salem couldn't help but shy away from. Yet all the same, he couldn't help but sigh at the reflection, as he traced the shard carefully. He stroked the surface helplessly. Then, in that same moment, Salem closed his eyes, and changed. When he looked at himself again, he saw the other Queen, that worthless blonde who was always following the witch around, like some pathetic little puppy. However, she was equally beautiful, so begrudgingly, he couldn't complain.

After a little while, he leaned away from the mirror, and stared up at the empty ceiling. He was in Ophelia's old warehouse, which had long since been abandoned. Old cobwebs were floating quietly in their ebonic corners. Dust danced to the sounds of a decadent breeze, the ghoulish moonlight entwined within the particles around. Shattered glass marred the grounds, but every so often Salem would find it in his heart to try and clean up, if only for the sake of the girl who'd given him so much to laugh at. In fact, he was actually cleaning now. But, as it so happens, he saw his reflection in the mirror. Ever since then, he'd been staring at it, caressing it with all the affection he could muster from his closed heart.

But even that couldn't distract him from everything that'd been going on, especially when it concerned the coven.

The morons that kept following Ophelia around have disappeared, probably off with the Diamonds, since it seems their once loyal leader is now prepping them for slaughter. All the other nobles were on edge, just waiting for Fallen to come for them. Some, of course, were doing everything in their meager power to try and not get caught, while others were busy drawing up contracts, getting ready for uncertain business meetings, if only to try and convince the sadists of their own usefulness. It seems that this time, the elites have a better chance of escaping than the rest of the pawns. Perhaps that was the one advantage that came with the titles. But then again, most of the time that strategy didn't work, so who knows?

Probably Belial.

Belial should know.

To be perfectly honest, Salem couldn't remember when it was when he joined. All he could recall was how bored he was, with his own life, and how exciting it'd become when he met the Black Rose, as well as his Queens. In fact, he was so moved by their unpredictability, that the only ever forms that he ever took were those three. It was a shame though, that he couldn't meet with them as often as he liked. They were always so busy, always keeping to themselves and that secretive world of theirs. He hadn't met anyone as interesting as them, so it really was unfortunate.

Then of course, Belial came along.

Just like Salem, he simply showed up, and though everyone was curious as to where he came from, no one dared ask him. Apparently, neither the Queens nor the witch bothered with him, so the rest of the coven members left him alone. He was a bit of a wallflower, in Salem's opinion, and even after he'd gotten to know the guy, he was still a bit of an enigma.

Still, Belial had a lot of juicy secrets. For example, Jean was always an alcoholic, and the only reason why he join the game was because he wanted to prove himself to the witch, saying that, at the very least, he could help him in something; he never meant to take the title. The twins were always around him too, but that's because they saw him as an older brother, a mentor of sorts, one that could bring order to the coven; when he didn't, that was when they turned to Fallen, only to fall to the lowest of depths. Drevis only wanted to play because he thought he could teach the Queens a thing or two about politics, about combat. Ophelia joined because she wanted to protect the witch, but then of course, she was always stupid like that. They all were.

But the one thing that blew everything else out of the water, something that made every other scandal seem like a simple, little white lie, was how the Black Rose actually met with Fallen's leader.

And over dinner too! Yeah, it looks like they were really intimate. Were they lovers? No, no it didn't seem like it. Well, were they friends? Surely there must've been something between the two? But Belial didn't know. All he knew was that Fallen had given the witch an invitation, telling him to come to some hotel, where a banquet will be held in his honor. Their fearless leader then gave Belial the invitation, and told him to look for the Queens.

Now, Salem would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous. Why would the witch grant Belial such a wonderful opportunity, when he hadn't even been in the coven for a year? Why would he give Belial such a responsibility, when there were more trustworthy figures out there? Yes, Belial was a good friend, but that didn't stop him from being, at the most, slightly annoyed.

So, like any other sensible gentleman, he decided to change forms. Out of pure curiosity, he asked Belial to give him the invitation, and that was that. After he read the thing, Salem…

Was shocked, to say the least.

Millions of questions kept swirling in his mind, the impossible truth that their own, lying leaders could actually have sold out the rest of the coven, if only for their own benefit (sarcasm). But even then, what was he supposed to think? Even he should knew that they, out of everyone he's met, had some sort of grudge against Fallen. Why was that, really? Was it something the organization did to them? Was there blackmail involved? Did Ophelia know about it? Was that why the Black Rose cut her down the way he did? Did it have anything to do with his new concubine? Was this all just a ruse, to try and lower the coven's defenses, to make them seem more helpless than they really are?

Salem toyed with the long, blond strands dangling from his skull, as he clutched the broken fragment in his hand. He stared into the Queen's eyes, the deep, steel gray entwining heavenly with an innocent, mischievous glimmer hidden behind a nonexistent light in her eyes. He stole another look at the invitation, before putting the white envelope down, and turning back to the mirror. With one, tiny finger, he stroked the cool surface, a small, playful smile tugging at his face.

They all really are beautiful.

So beautiful that he didn't mind not remembering what he looked like.

Tomorrow, he was going to get to go to a wonderful party. He was going to be seated next to the Black Rose, an honor he knew many of the members would kill for. He was going to meet with Fallen, and ultimately be saved from his once inevitable fate, escaping death with an idol he'd long since admired. He was going to get the kindness he yearned for, all the while seeing into the glimpses of the world the Black Rose hid himself in. He was going to get everything he ever wanted, and then some, simply because he himself was invited to their secretive, dark reality.

Salem knew, more than anyone, how much the members trusted the witch. And he also knew how hurt they were, when Belial told everyone how he simply met with Fallen's leader, as if mocking the coven for their undeniable stupidity, a joke Salem found too funny to laugh at. But even then, there were still pawns who came to the witch's defense, knights who shielded their beloved master, if only for the sole purpose of the victories he's brought unto them. The bishops and rooks too fell for his trickery, but only the idiotic ones, the ones who refused to join the game. Only the aristocrats knew just how much of a monster the man really was.

In his silence, Salem heard the chimes of a far away clock. A midnight bell resonated loudly through the air, the misery embracing each note. An air of corrupted magic sang in Salem's ears, as he stole a look at the invitation again. It wasn't long before he turned his gaze to the empty space in front of him, taking in the magnificence the warehouse had without anyone else inside.

Salem was probably just as much a fool as Ophelia, to go to something as dangerous as this. If anything, he should've just thrown the invitation away. He should've hunted the witch down, and tell him what was going on, doing everything he could to try and ignore another tragedy. He should've told the pawns, or the aristocrats, or anyone else, anyone who would listen about their traitorous leaders, about their connections with Fallen. At the very least, he could've saved a few lives, however unimportant, or how boring, they were.

But he couldn't bear to.

Because that witch enticed him too much.

"Did you know that spider-lilies were actually amaryllises?"

Yusei stared at her, the silence lingering between the two subtly. "I didn't know that." he said quietly.

"Neither did I."

"So what'd they look like? In your dream?"

She merely shrugged, staring down at her drink as she did. By now, all the warmth had gone from the cup, leaving only a cool mess of liquid in its stead. Its even lost its chocolate aroma, something only Yusei had seemed to notice. "They were red," she answered. "I got the flowers confused, at first. I was so embarrassed."

"What for?"

"I couldn't tell the difference between them, the roses and the spider-lilies. It all looked like a sea of red to me, filled with thorns and weeds."

Thorns and weeds, huh?

"What happened after that?"

"Someone asked me how I felt, about amaryllises."

An unreadable emotion etched across the atmosphere. Yusei tried to brush it aside, but in the end, he couldn't help but look away. "And how do you feel about them?"

Much to his annoyance, she laughed. "Why are you asking me?"

He returned her sarcastic mirth. "You recognized them, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I don't know why."

Old, archaic lines stretched across her face, the strands of her hair neatly brushing past her shoulder. Before long, she took a deep breath, just as the light behind them shut off for the night. How long they'd been there, he didn't know. "I don't like them."

He stiffened. "What?"

"The amaryllises, in that dream," Akiza said, as she narrowed her eyes. "They always seem so detached, though whenever someone comes close to them, it's like they open up, daring someone, anyone, to try and treat it like any other flower. Snip it, cut it, put it on a mantle and have someone take pictures of it; all they do is stand there, with that same dare on their face. The plant might not have thorns, but it has weeds and thistles surrounding it. And besides," she continued, shrugging his jacket closer to her shoulders, "they aren't as innocent as roses."

His lips parted slightly. "And just what about roses are innocent?" he asked. "They have thorns, don't they? You've said it yourself, time and time again."

"With those big, prideful petals of theirs, I'm not sure roses even know they have thorns," she answered aimlessly. "You see them all the time, don't you? At weddings? At birthday parties? On Valentine's Day, when the guy doesn't know what else to get the girl? You've seen them everywhere; they've become so ingrained in society that they don't even stop to think about how meaningless their existences are."

"Meaningless?"

"It doesn't matter how pretty they are," she mused. "In the end, just like any other flower, they're going to wilt, and die, and be tossed aside, just like everything else. They'll be forgotten, but despite that, they probably won't know it; they'll still be wrapped up in their own, vain little world, not even bothering to understand the things outside of it, the thorns that protect it. At the very least, spider-lilies know when their end is coming."

As their shadows disappeared within the calm darkness shrouding them, Yusei simply sat there next to her, the tips of her bangs lightly touching his skin. He couldn't make out the bloodstains his jacket so carelessly hid, with all the hints of the murder now ceasing to exist. Akiza wasn't shaking anymore, the memory of her own, ephemeral disgust vanishing before him so easily. It was as if she'd seen those kinds of deaths over and over again, in those callous nightmares of hers. How quickly she'd gotten over her fears, the despair of being exposed to corpses for the past years; it seemed like everything was there, laid out for Yusei to see.

"And I don't like that."

Yusei's wide, dark eyes took in the emptiness resonating from Akiza's expression. Traces of bearable agony permeated from her lips, and though she allowed her facade to slip for a single moment, she managed to keep her blank face. Before he could talk, she threw her head back, and watched the shadows from above. "Like what?" Yusei asked. "The fact that they know more than roses do? That they aren't as naive?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"It's just not as human."

They all stared at the empty darkness in front of them, the ravaging tension carelessly grazing their once haughty, elegant wrinkles. Worried murmurs kept passing and there, with hot sweat soiling the fine fabric covering their grotesquely obese bodies. Puffy red eyes kept appearing throughout the crowds, as they tried remaining silent, only for the murderous shouts to, once again, pierce the air. They all took a collective gulp, trying to hide their presences from the monsters. Shivering and shaking, with fear gripping their hearts, they desperately prayed for someone, for anyone, to come, and stop the massacres. Already those things have gotten three of their numbers.

No, four.

Four have already died.

Carefully, one of the elites peeked out from the shadows. He held his finger to his lips, and with tight eyes, told them all to shut up. Obediently, they obliged. He then took a deep breath, before looking out from around the corner. He tightened his grip around on his once clean sleeve, as he looked out at the creatures, all of whom were surrounding their latest kill.

Tonight, the aristocrats were supposed to meet here, in the ballroom. They needed to come up with a strategy to take down the Black Rose. As of that point, many were still thinking about the game, about the potential victor and the glories ahead. However, survival was their number one priority, considering how Fallen was ready to come tear them apart, limb from limb, to be exact. Since neither the witch nor his Queens couldn't be trusted, it seemed that now, they were on their own. After all, they knew full well how cruel wealth can be; they've even destroyed each other to attain it.

So why?

Why wasn't it saving them now?

Where were their slaves? And their servants? Where were the knights, who were supposed to come to their rescue whenever they called for it? Where were the pawns, who needed to act as bait while the elites escape? Where were the other humans, most of which would've, at least, distracted those monsters long enough for them to leave? Where were the other covens, all of whom should be helping them, now that the truth had gotten out? Where were their allies, their acquaintances, business partners whom they've barely known for even a week? Didn't anyone care for the elites?

But more importantly, what about those creatures? Didn't those things understand how powerful money can be, especially in their hands? Didn't they see just what kind of force they were dealing with, considering how many pawns the elites could afford? Didn't those creatures comprehend how frightened they should be by the sheer elegance the aristocrats exuded? Didn't they know, just by their fine clothes and jewelry, by their titles, by the amount of land and servants they've amassed over their long lives?

And even if they didn't, if even that fear couldn't save the elites, then what about the Black Rose? Wasn't he supposed to be their leader? Yes, they've tried to kill him time and time again, but at the very least, he wouldn't risk making himself look bad by simply ignoring their plight. He or his Queens should be here any moment now to stop those things from tearing them apart. He'll destroy those things for frightening the objects he's laid claim to, to the immoral courts he's so preciously protected over the years. Yes, he should be here any time. Even if they were being slaughtered, one by one, the Black Rose will still come. He'll give them their victory, like he's always done.

Another one fell.

A woman this time.

A woman whom they all envied.

They all watched, as they ripped her apart with their overgrown fangs. Their disgusting nails tore at her dress, with her expensive rhinestones falling emptily to the ground. Her eyes grew wide with fright, as she tried struggling out of their grip, only for her blackened fluids to stain the sullied grounds. The creatures ripped out strands of silk hair, leaving long, disgusting claw marks on the side of her face. The ruby choker that held fast to her throat had long since vanished, and the diamond rings she had on her fingers proved of little worth in her survival, as the creatures used it to break her own hands. The sapphire earrings she once treasured was ripped away from her earlobes, and the oversized, golden bracelet she happily showed off to everyone had gone missing, only to reappear in her now exposed ribs. Shapeless blobs of organs draped over her finery, with the scent of iron replacing her perfume she'd put on just hours before. Her prideful smile had vanished, replaced by a terrified expression as she screamed at the top of her lungs, reaching out to her former allies to be saved, seemingly forgetting the world that she'd come from.

And it was funny, how desperate she looked. How desperate she seemed, as she reached out to them, calling them out like they were once friends.

No

Not even they could understand that.

So they left her there, writhing in painful agony, unaware that those creatures were approaching them with the same, hungry look in their eyes.