Chapter 2: Long Way Down
Three assassins onboard an airship spell trouble. No doubt. If their existence on said airship was known, then it would spark mass hysteria. Cries would be screamed. Chairs would be flung. Emergency parachutes would be deployed. The National Army would be dispatched. However, three assassins who also happen to be sisters that are forced to sit next to one another, by anything but their free will spell a word that does not currently exist in the dictionary, and nor should it for the sake of public safety. Fortunately, the untold knowledge that these three girls are anything but killers means that the deployment of parachutes and the national army are (indefinitely) delayed. Marvelous news for the other passengers.
Girls are a blessing and should invoke reverence. When put together with assassins, they should invoke fear. Anomie, Chaotica, and Psyche are much more, as told by their mother, 'You are Moiraio women. We are weapons we forged ourselves. No one, no man, can dull our blades without wishing to be cut down where he stands.'
And it is an unspoken truth that Moiraio women, no matter where they go, are always followed by trouble. They are usually the ones to begin it. It is a trouble that killed all the family's men, a trouble that swindled the youngest daughter out of seeking her own happily ever after, and a trouble that tempted the middle sister to commit murder.
Right now.
"I'm going to kill you." Chaotica hissed.
"Hush. I'm thinking." Anomie shushed her, deadpanned.
"Think faster."
Anomie was caught in utter contemplation, which earned the wrath of her younger sister, Chaotica.
"Ahhh." Chaotica groaned, leaning forward on the countertop. Exhausted. "You're taking so long to order, yet you always get the same thing. You might as well try something different for once. I'll even help you pick."
"Chaotica, your assistance as always is unsolicited and unnecessary. That being said, I've decided what I want."
"Oh really." Chaotica faked surprise.
"I'll have-"
"Gin and tonic." Both girls said simultaneously.
Chaotica turned to the bartender. "She'll have her lemon edges cut up in the drink too. Five slices. She doesn't like them perched on the rim."
Anomie turned to her annoyed. "You're not going to ask for a straw as well."
"Well, I wouldn't want to baby you. I have Psyche for that."
"What?" Psyche lifted her eyes from her book. She had no idea what Chaotica said to her, being fully immersed in her reading. They all looked at her, for a moment her breath was stolen. Her stomach growled and she remembered she was starving, having not eaten anything back at the diner. Murder makes a girl hungry. She shifted in her seat, pulling on the ends of her sleeves. "What are the dinner options?" She asked, sheepishly.
"Um," the bartender rummaged through the cupboards. "We have potato chips."
Psyche balked at the bartender. She wanted a steaming hot meal, something meaty lathered in gravy served with a side of waffle fries, and cheese. God, yes, cheese. Melting and gooey and creamy. How she craved poutine. But beggars could not be choosers. "I'll take it."
She reached.
He pulled back.
Her eyes twitched.
He wouldn't hand her the bag. She prayed she wouldn't have to rip it out of his hands. She didn't know what she was capable of when faced with desperation. And she wanted to spare anyone from the sight. "Chips are served alongside drinks."
So they want her to starve and get drunk. She felt as if she was going to faint.
"Um, I don't-"
Chaotica cut her off. "She'll have a Shirley temple. We don't need a tipsy bride."
Psyche kept her eyes downcast, blushing. Bride. To hear it said out loud made everything inside of her flutter. Giddy. Excited. Nervous. She wanted to throw up, but the good kind. She repeated the word again and again in her head. That's what she was, a bride. She pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile that would otherwise hurt her cheeks. Tonight, she is a bride. Tomorrow, she will be a wife. The dam broke. Now, she couldn't help but smile. She wondered if he felt the same way. Illumi.
Saying his name, even in her head, made her stomach want to do somersaults and cartwheels. Okay, maybe she really is going to throw up. She buried her face in her book, trying to clear her mind and soothe her stomach just for tonight.
The bartender handed her a bag of chips alongside her shirley temple. Psyche tore open the bag the minute he did. Chips in one hand, book in the other. Multitasking. He blinked, not knowing what to make of it. Instead of gawking, he turned to Chaotica, "The same for you?"
Chaotica leaned forward once then back again. The bartender's eyes may have slipped down to the collar of her dress. Not may have, they did. He immediately whipped them back up, admonishing himself that he shouldn't stare at women's cleavage. He preoccupied himself by grabbing a cup below the counter, as if that was the reason his gaze lingered a little too low. Chaotica noticed that he did, but gave no indication of it.
"No, I'm thinking of something...something with a little more of a kick. And sweet."
"We have citrus drop martinis."
Chaotica leaned back and looked at the bartender. Eyes meeting.
The bartender blushed.
Psyche looked at Anomie who simply shrugged and sighed to herself, here we go again.
Chaotica began what Anomie despised the most. She regaled a tale. No one loves hearing Chaotica talk more than Chaotica herself. "I remember once, I was going to ski down the slope of Mount Drius, but I was so nervous that I downed a drink they were serving at the bar. I told them any drink, it doesn't matter, they asked how strong, and I said enough to make me forget I'm making a mistake. Oh, this was the hotel at the summit, but I can't remember the name.."
"Prince hotel." The bartender said without missing a beat. Leaning forward from behind the counter.
Chaotica clapped her hands together, eyes bright with amazement. "Yes, that's the one! You've heard of it?"
The boy smiled, his cheeks a lovely shade of pink. "I work there during winter holiday. Also on bar duty."
"It really is a small world." She laughed lightly, giving off airs that she and him were old time friends. "And they served this lovely sugary drink. It was this beautiful shade of purple. Oh, it was divine. It had the cutest name.."
"Crystal violet cocktail! That was our specialty drink during the winter months. That's when the violet flowers are in full bloom at the base of the mountain and we harvest them."
"I'd be lost without you! Have I seen you there before? You look so familiar." Chaotica turned to her sisters, like she was trying to confirm her suspicion and that Anomie possibly held the answer. Anomie remained uninterested. "He looks so familiar, doesn't he? I could never forget those blue eyes." Chaotica said, a little softer. A tender smile playing on her lips. An almost whisper of her voice held the promise of something more. As if this wasn't the first time she spoke of him.
"I know the recipe by heart." He chirped, a little too quickly.
"Oh I wouldn't want you to go out of your way just for me." Chaotica tilted her head down, batting her lashes. Blushing like a bride.
Anomie rolled her eyes.
"Not at all, we don't have violets on hand, but I can whip up something similar that I'd think you'd like."
Chaotica cooed to Anomie and acted as if this was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her. Anomie squirmed away from her touch. "Thank you, I'd love that."
When he began to turn away, determined to make an off the menu drink, she called out to him with a voice as sweet as crystal violets.
"Maybe you were the one that served me."
She winked.
A smile broke across his face.
A box of citruses broke his fall.
All eyes from the room turned towards the bar. Even Psyche (briefly) looked up from her book.
He got up, brushed off his apron and laughed away the fall. Pretending his face wasn't scorching red from the embarrassing mishap.
Anomie said in a low whisper that only Chaotica could hear. "You need to mind your own business."
"Oh?" Chaotica hummed, hand underneath her chin. A stray piece of hair fell out of place. "I think I made his night."
"It's not his night you should be worrying about." Anomie's eyes traveled towards Psyche.
Psyche tensed when she felt Chaotica's gaze drifted towards her and settled there like a weight she couldn't bear to shoulder. She nuzzled her face closer to her book, trying to block out her sisters.
Chaotica sighed and relaxed her shoulders. "You're right. Poor, poor, pooooor, little, Psyche. I don't know how she can bear being the sacrificial lamb."
Psyche's brow twitched. "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here."
"I'm well aware. Maybe now you'll be forced to listen to me. I am your older sister, I do give good advice."
"Debatable." Anomie said underneath her breath, cracking a wry smile.
Chaotica glared at her.
Anomie shot it right back.
Chaotica laughed. Then shook it off, swallowing down her last laugh. She had to be serious. She had to play the wise, older sister. No, she was the wise, older sister. She slugged down her drink when it was ready, damn it was good. "Whoo! Alright, I'm ready to impart wisdom. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Mom was practically dying for one of us to marry a Zoldyck. This is what she's been vying for, for years. I'll give it to mom for building an empire all by herself after daddy died, but she really is contradictory, one moment she says we are strong independent young women who don't need men to make us powerful and the next she's dressing us up and parading us like dolls in front of those boys hoping one of them would pick one of us. It's like we were being put on the shelf awaiting inspection by that mother of theirs. It was so degrading. Hoping we were beautiful enough, strong enough, or whatever the hell that bitch wanted for her son's. Acting as if they're oh so special when they sure as hell aren't."
"Don't call her that," Psyche lifted her head up from her book. "She's going to be my mother-in-law." And Illumi was special, to Psyche at least.
"She's going to be your problem. That's what she's going to be." Chaotica corrected, voice rising.
Deep down, Psyche thought Chaotica was jealous because Kikyo didn't pick her. She picked Psyche. It was a nasty, intrusive thought that entered her head, but she couldn't deny it was thrilling and exhilarating all at once knowing that someone saw something in her that made her precious. Invaluable. It was a feeling Psyche didn't get a lot of back at home, not that either of her sisters would understand. Their Mom played favorites, and Psyche knew where she ranked among the tiers.
"Well, when I see that fucker Milluki again, I swore I would cut off his-"
Anomie cut her off, "you're diverting just a bit."
Chaotica flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Am not. I simply promised Milluki that the next time if he'd ever try to flip it out on me I'd chop off his little-"
Anomie covered Psyche's ears. Psyche swiped at her sister's hands and yelled a whisper, "I'm not a child."
"You're right. I shouldn't censor words that you're old enough to handle. So, Chaotica said she was going to chop off his yahoo."
Psyche rolled her eyes.
"And his yahoo I would gladly chop and feed it to that beastly dog of theirs." Chatoica raised her glass and so did Anomie in solidarity. "It would barely make a good enough snack for it, but anyway. Anomie, you know me, I don't go back on my promises. What kind of girl would that make me, making promises I never intended to keep?"
"Mom always said you were disturbed."
"And Milluki knows it." Chaotica nodded to herself, smugly.
Psyche remembered the incident from years ago when they visited the Zoldyck Mansion. Mom reprimanded Chaotica for threatening Milluki and for potentially ruining any relations they had left with the Zoldycks. When Kikyo found out, she reprimanded him just as much and apologized for his inappropriate behavior.
It was one of the rare occasions they were actually allowed in, being that if you couldn't open the testing gate, you weren't allowed inside. It was mortifying when Pscyhe couldn't open the gate on her first visit, and instead had to wait outside with the gatekeeper and one of her family's maids while the rest of her family went inside without her. She was able to remedy that for her next visit. Her mom made certain of it.
"It's not Milluki I'm marrying."
Chaotica tsked. "Given your betrothed, he may have been an improvement. Barely a step above maybe even less, but an improvement."
"I want this. I want him."
"That's what mom is making you think you want."
Maybe, Psyche thought. She couldn't deny that this is what her mom has been ushering her towards, but it didn't mean she wanted it any less.
"If you're expecting pin head to be your knight in shining armor, riding on a white horse to carry you off into your enchanted fairytale castle." She tapped Psyche's book. Psyche pulled it away. "You don't need me to tell you just how many women and men that hired you who believed in that same fairytale and were wrong. Very wrong."
"Illumi is not like that."
"Then what is he like?"
Psyche's breath caught.
"Go on. Tell me."
Anomie piped up, tired of her own silence. "Chaotica, end this. I think she gets your point. Everyone on the airship already does."
Chaotica turned around and many people who were looking averted their stares just in the nick of time. Nosy people. "No, Anomie. I'm waiting for Psyche to tell me. If she can."
Psyche bit the inside of her cheek, clenching her book. Finally, she exhaled. "If i'm being honest. I don't. I don't know him well enough. I don't think he knows me well enough either."
"There you have it. Let's boycott this wedding."
"But I know that we understand each other." Psyche stared down into her book, barely reading the words as she recounted an old memory. One that was replayed time and time again in her head. A memory she dared not divulge to her sisters. It was too precious to be shared. "We're more alike than you know."
Chaotica forced down a laugh. "I doubt it. Hm, I wonder what Eros would think about all of this-"
Everyone turned towards the bar. An aura so strong that could not be seen, but felt, permeated throughout the entire airship. It was dark, but not deadly. It was the kind of heavy darkness that wept and mourned in solitude, a darkness that is all too familiar for grieving hearts. Some passengers were overcome with a sudden wave of sadness. Tears sprung out of their eyes without cause or reason.
"Don't say his name." Psyche's voice was low and distant as she forced out the words beneath her breath. She turned her head slowly, revealing eyes that bore an aching pain. A menacing aching pain she would more than gladly share.
Chaotica gulped.
Anomie's glass clinked against the countertop. The aura made her lemon slices turn rotten. My drink... She lamented to herself, sorrowfully. "There is no point in arguing over what has already been decided. And I agree with Psyche. Though I think they could have spared more time to become better acquainted with each other, they'll have all the time to fill in the details after they're married. I have my opinions about Illumi, but there is no better match between our two families. You're right, this is what mom has always wanted, what she has been pushing us towards, but remember this is what daddy wanted too. It wouldn't have played out any differently if he were still alive today."
"I can't believe you're seriously pulling the daddy card out on me. Of course I know he wanted this. Without daddy, the Zoldycks wouldn't want this marriage, let alone anything to do with us," Chaotica mumbled. A sadness of another kind brewed within the assassin.
Psyche was still saddened that her daddy wouldn't be the one giving her away at the wedding. He's been dead for almost two decades now, and even though Anomie and Chaotica hold more memories of him then she herself possesses, a part of her heart aches for the love of a father she once had. The memories she holds are simply the retellings recited by the ones around her. Second hand stories they pass like treasure to hungry little hands, feasting off and admiring every detail about him. They change a little every time they are spoken, but the essence is always the same. After being told so many stories of him, she knows all of them by heart, as if she herself had a place among those memories. As if she was there all along, listening to him talk and breathe and laugh right in front of her.
No matter how much she wishes that were true, her first memory of her daddy is standing in front of his grave. His name etched into the polished tombstone. Laying down flowers at their feet. Not knowing who he was or why her sisters were crying. Anomie and Chaotica wiped away their teary eyes and blessed his grave with their sorrow, while Psyche's eyes were stone cold dry. It felt like a betrayal. That was the most dreadful part of it. She couldn't mourn for him. She couldn't cry for him.
She never even had the chance to love him first.
"Can't believe I'm going to say this, but I may be the only sane one left in the family." Chaotica sighed. "Well, if Illumi gives you any trouble, I'll chop off his yahoo for you."
"Thank you, that's so sweet?"
"You're welcome. What are sisters for."
She prayed the night would never end. That the moon would never set and the sun would never rise. That the day would never awaken and the night would sleep 'till no end. She hoped her prayers would float beyond the clouds into the vast expanse of space and reach whichever God or Goddess or higher power that ruled benevolently among the planets and shooting stars would grant her that wish.
When his lips met her neck, leaving a trail of blazing heat in its wake she felt as if time, for a moment, had stopped. With every kiss, every touch upon her body, he left her hungry for something beyond themselves. He granted her a taste, a morsel of eternity and left her craving for more-entire.
She moaned as he slipped her onto his bed, with tender care, a place a servant like her was forbidden to be. How she basked in the glory of their rebellion. Her red hair fanned out around her head, looking like a saint painted in a chapel surrounded by a halo of fiery light. He kissed her from one cheek to the other. Soft and tentative. Salvation, for him, was not harboring in the steeples or pews of chapel, but here in this room, with the maiden laying on his bed. Savoring each touch, her fingers trailed over the cotton comforter, imagining the outline his body made in his bed. A dream she fancied from time to time. She imagined what outline both their bodies would make intertwined together. A dream she fancied quite more often.
He too had the same dream, but tonight was not a night for dreaming. But for living. She watched as he disrobed, and admired his toned muscles underneath his tunic. His tanned skin glimmered with the faintest whisper of gold underneath the firelight. Her heartbeat thrummed in her chest and she feared it would burst out. She held onto the collar of her chemise, tight. A poor attempt at taming her wild beating heart.
Heat scorched within her as he lifted up the hem of her chemise above her knees then her thighs. For a moment he hesitated and a shrill of panic coursed through her that he was having second doubts. That this rebellion of theirs was not their march to victory but to shame and humiliation. After all, they were of two different worlds. Each that despised the other.
"You do not want me?" Her voice was weak, barely a whisper. She sat up straight, fearing-dreading-that he would confirm that painful truth to her. She should have known better, she was foolish thinking he could love someone below his own station. A servant girl.
He held her hands within his own, gracing her with gentle kisses. She only felt tenderness and warmth of the man who loved her. Stations be damned. "I want all of you, if you will have me."
"Yes." Tears of joy laced her eyes.
Without any of their garments, it was hard to tell who belonged to which class. There was no master nor servant. No nobleman nor kitchen maid. There was only a man and a woman. And a fire that blazed bright from both of their hearts-together.
He got down on his knees, and offered grace for his salvation.
Psyche's face was fuming red. Suddenly self-conscious of the book she was reading. She peered over her shoulders and watched as people drank and talked the night away. How far away could someone read the contents of her book without her imploding with embarrassment?
Through the corners of her eyes she peered at her older sister, Anomie, who was sitting to her right. There was Chaotica, to her left, savoring her own drink and flirting with the bartender. Psyche began to curl inward, slowly covering the content of her book with her arm. Ever so slowly and inconspicuously.
"I'm not looking at your book." Anomie said without looking at her little sister while twirling a crystal glass of gin and tonic in her hand. Watching lemon pulp swirl in little whirlpools and appreciating the sound of ice clinking against the glass.
Psyche came to an abrupt stop. Her face reddened even more. Somehow she didn't believe that. Anomie has eyes everywhere and she even knew what she was thinking. Either it was inturiton, paranoia or witchcraft. "I don't believe you."
Anomie shrugged. "I don't even know what your book is about. A Captain? A kitchen maid? A forbidden romance? Secret rendezvous in oh so secluded barns?" For someone who claimed to know so little, she knew very specific details. A smile she couldn't help conceal began to crack. "That page must be giving you trouble because you've been lingering on it for so long." She accentuated long.
Fuck, she knew.
Chaotica peered over her shoulder. She blinked, astonished. "Wow, I didn't know there were so many ways to describe yahoos."
Fuck, now everyone knows!
Psyche's chair screeched.
"Hm?" Anomie hummed.
"Where are you going?" The smile on Chaotica's lips only grew wider.
Psyche averted her gaze not looking her sisters in the eyes.
Chaotica slowly laid a hand over her heart, feigning concern. She wore the look believably well, as well as a cat that pretended to ignore it's prey. Peaking through one eye when the mouse isn't looking. "Was it something I said?"
Psyche began grabbing her things-her book, bag of chips, purse, shirley temple drink, and whatever shattered remains were left of her dignity. "For the remainder of the flight, we don't know each other."
"Of course. Goodbye, Psyche." Anomie deadpanned. More interested in finishing off her drink.
Chaotica sipped her drink and waved goodbye, watching as Psyche scurried to a chair in the very corner of the room. The contents of her book facing away from any wandering eyes.
"Hello there."
She wanted to bite the hand off whoever thought interrupting her from The Captain and I: Waves of Our Salvation was a good idea. This was the notorious page 172, and she was only going to experience reading page 172 for the first time, once. This was a moment to be savored, not disturbed.
The one doing the disturbing happened to be a young man, dressed well and nice as expected of someone who could afford a luxury flight on an airship. But after reading her historical romance novel, she had a penchant for men with ruffled auburn hair peeking beneath tricorne hats, tunics with flowing sleeves like the waves of the ocean he sails across, and a hefty parcel of property with an abundance of crops both for land and-she scanned him once down and up-otherwise. He had none of those things.
That and she was engaged. She scorned herself for not wearing her engagement ring.
Tomorrow and forever on, her love is Illumi Zoldyck. But tonight, the love of her life was Captain Theodore Sturn. Any man who existed beyond the 18th century did not interest her.
He extended his hand out to hers. He wanted to shake her hand, and for that she would have to let go of her book, for him. How dare he presume she'd let go of her book for him? Who was this man, some nobody, but a speck of dust on Captain Sturn's ship?
She looked at this hand, almost distastefully.
"It's called a handshake. It's what people do when they greet each other." His hand was still extended.
What was the polite way to tell a man, whose presence is unrequested and unwanted, to go beat it?
Fortunately, Chaotica was watching.
"Hold my drink." She said, handing it to Anomie who did so without complaint. She sipped from the top. Raising her eyebrows in astonishment. Taking another generous sip.
It didn't take long for Chaotica to get the man to follow her. A few looks, batting of her lashes, and one hell of a cat walk toward the balcony had the man following her in no time. If someone was timing it, she would have broken her own record. Alas, this was no time to applaud herself as she lured him towards the balcony.
Romantic. Just the two of them. Alone. Secluded. Lack of security cameras.
It was perfect.
The man eyed every supple curve of her body. Finally bringing his gaze up to her. Chaotica swore that men were blind to everything but boobs and butts.
"You look ravishing-"
"Let's skip the small talk." Chaotica leaned back on the railing, letting the wind ruffle her hair. It was cool and brisk. "I don't want you talking to my sister."
The man scoffed to himself. "Is this why you brought me out here? Look, she approached me first."
"Why did you spike her drink then?"
The man paled.
"My sister normally isn't this oblivious, but when she sticks her nose inside a book, well...she tends to miss what's happening around her."
"You're crazy. I would never do that." Beads of sweat pearled on his skin.
"Oh?" Chaotica leaned forward and unleashed her aura. Nen swirled around her eyes, conjuring gold rimmed glasses with three sapphire crystalline lenses. One for each eye, and another covering her forehead. Tell me all your secrets. Viewfinder. She looked into his eyes, he looked into hers, and that was all she had to do to make him lay out his memories for her to watch. Scenes played out before her. She watched as he stalked towards her with a fake smile and nefarious deeds in mind. She watched as he extended his hand out to Psyche. She watched as a white pill dropped from his hand and into her drink. She watched as Psyche looked up at him, clearly annoyed, oblivious to the pill that quickly dissolved in her drink within seconds.
Chaotica wasn't a girl that watched in silence. She acts.
She swore that without her help, Psyche was going to get herself kidnapped, killed, or both.
Chaotica peered in further, unraveling his memories one by one. "That's a ghastly little drug you use. XG909, is it? Odorless. Tasteless. Undetectable unless specifically tested for. Exactly the kind sold off the black market." Chaotica laughed, mockingly. Sifting through his memories even further, one by one like a stack of playing cards. "You've done this before? And you were never caught. Until now. Sicko."
"Who the hell are you!? An undercover cop!?"
"Oh no. Nothing noble or heroic like that for me." A twisted giggle, a wicked smile. She pressed a finger to her red lips. "But given my line of work, I've met plenty. Good natured, but boring as hell."
Faster than the wind, she was right in front of him. There was no time for him to react as she gripped him by the neck; pinning him against the railing. His back arched over the city lights below him. He grabbed his hands over hers, struggling to breath. Holding unto her for dear life.
She reached into his pocket. Knowing which one contained the pills and whistled playfully. "These cost you a fortune. Shame, you won't be needing these anymore. Whoops." She tossed them over the railing. And watched them plummet until she couldn't see them anymore.
He struggled to scream as she constricted his larynx.
"What was that?" She smiled. "I don't know what you're trying to tell me. Speak clearly, please."
His face was turning a sickening shade of purple.
"Tongue tied? Not that I'm interested in what you have to say." She cocked her head to the side. "You must have known better than to mess with my sister. No one hurts my family. Let alone attempt. Understand?"
She didn't stop using Viewfinder. She wanted to know more.
Her eyes shot fire.
The man went cold.
"You're a human trafficker too? You just keep getting shadier by the minute, pal."
When his face was turning a shade of blue, she lightened her grip-just enough to let him suck in air to breathe. "I don't want you to die. Not yet."
Tears were pooling in his blood shot eyes.
"You know, I'm feeling a bit sentimental tonight. Maybe it's because my lil sis is getting married, talk of daddy, or because of too many drinks…. Or maybe it's seeing your lovely face." She snickered. "I don't care why, but I'm not done giving advice tonight. My lil sis, the one who is getting married, goes on and on and on about why needing a reason is so damn important in this business. In life. I admit I'm not like Anomie, who kills out of a sense of duty, of honor, of family. It's tiresome being around someone who is so self-righteous all the time. I'm not like Psyche either, who paints herself as the vengeful saint and protector of lost and helpless victims. It's pathetic, but I don't judge. No, that's not for me. I still have a reason, but I don't think it should be so narrow or pertain to one thing. Their reasons focus so intently on working, that they're leaving so little time at all for living. And the time they have off when they're not working, they're still thinking about work. It's messed up. Life is all about experiencing everything to the utmost potential. Life shouldn't center around working, but living. Truly living. You see, that is why I don't have the problems they do." She learned in close, enough for her breath to touch his lips. Enough where she could feel his fear. His fear for her. She breathed it all in. A wicked smile spread across her face in ecstasy. "I kill because I like it."
She wondered how long it would take for him to look like a speck of dust.
One push was all it took to send him falling off the balcony; She leaned over the railing, excitedly. Not once did her smile fade. Watching as he plummeted towards the city lights down below.
All the way down.
And what a long way down it was.
Thank you so much for reading chapter 2, you're awesome!
I hope y'all liked this chapter, we got to know the girls a little more, and i had fun writing Chaotica's scenes haha (I hope y'all don't mind that i write unapologetic killers aahhh sorry klfgjlks) And i had lots of fun writing the scene from the historical romance novel Psyche was reading "The Captain and I" i got a little carried away with that one XD More of the Moiraio fam will be discussed next chapter, and so will the identity of Eros :DDDDD Thank you to Ficklegenie for the lovely review too :D
Thanks for reading and let me know what you think! Until next time!