"With each vision, I felt more of my sanity slipping away. I never realized why these dreams frightened me so much. They were just dreams really. No different than the stories we tell our children. But the fear that accompanied them was something I could never escape."

There was always something about being alone at night that terrified me. Don't be mistaken. I wasn't lonely. I envied the opportunity to be away from everyone. But if there was one thing that terrified me then it would be my dreams. Nightmares. I can't control them, and no matter how much I wished they would stop, they don't.

When I opened my eyes, I could see the stands filled with people. Their features were blurred. I couldn't make out any details, but even if I couldn't see their faces I could hear them.

"Monster!"

"You murderer!"

I flinched as blood spilled down my head. It started with one of them throwing a rock, but soon the rest had followed. I struggled against my bonds as the soldiers dragged me further down the stage. They forced me onto my knees in front of the crowd. My gaze drifted up to a woman with purple hair and an expression that was frozen cold. If I didn't know my mother that well, I might have missed the small bit of pity in her eyes.

I tried to stay calm, but even then I could hear the walls of the iron maiden begin to surround me. There were countless spikes, the metal wiped clean in preparation for this moment. It was an execution device and a coffin in one.

The last thing I saw was my mother lowering her hand as the doors slammed shut. Pain didn't even begin to describe what I felt. The moment the doors closed my body was impaled in several directions. It should have only been for an instant, but in that moment I could feel every single blade stab into my body.

I was still crying when I chased away the memories of that scene. I didn't understand why I saw those things or why the pain felt so real. I just wanted to run away.

I remembered my father struggling to hold my gaze as a wave of flaming arrows pierced my chest. I remembered that figure glaring at me from the flames as my whole body was incinerated. If I close my eyes, I can hear laughter, as if a million screams were overlapping in a horrible cacophony of malice.

With each vision, I felt more of my sanity slipping away. I never realized why these dreams frightened me so much. They were just dreams really. No different than the stories we tell our children. But the fear that accompanied them was something I could never escape.

Then again, maybe these feelings were natural, especially when you considered who I was. After all, my name is Malty Melromarc, the first princess and villain of this story.