Drae felt her nerves lift, giving way to an absolute rightness. She crept to her door, opened it a crack and peeked out to the massive, empty halls. She knew, by now, her father had most likely retreated to his study to drink himself to sleep on his finest stash of Chef Loriel's elven wine. She knew her brothers will have been bathed by their live-in nanny, and tucked up in our beds. She knew Minnie would be alone, isolated, in her separate bedroom in the north wing. Alone until morning. Drae felt in that moment it was now or never.
Drae made it to the north wing without being seen or heard. She was so often dismissed in that house, she sometimes felt as invisible as a ghost. This fact ususally incurred feelings of sadness and insecurity, but not in that moment. In that moment, she praised her stealth and used it to sneak her way through the back of the Minnie's bedchamber. It was a second entrance, a false door behind a large family portrait her father had made at Minnie's insistance. No one, but Minnie knew where the backdoor was located or how to gain axcess, except for Minnie. And that's just what Drae wanted her to think.
The key to the lock was in Drae's eyes. The symbolism of it was not lost on her at all. She pocked two fingers into the spaces where her painted eyes were and they sunk in. The painting popped open and the backdoor was revealed. 'Immortal bitch', Drae cursed, wrapping her murderous rage deeper around her heart. She slipped through the painting, and up the small spiral staircase, more set on the task at hand.
The backdoor led out through the closet. The space was the size of a small studio, and smelled of fresh roses. Drae entered through a revoling, floor length mirror. It was dark, just as Drae knew it would be. She could hear the former goddess snoring slightly, just behind the curtains that served as the closest's door. She slipped through the curtains, into the main bedchamber, crossed to the bed, and stood over the the sleeping immortal.
Drae felt her heart running a marathon in her chest. Her palms were sweating so badly, she couldn't get a good grip on the blade. Was she really about to do this? Drae had only dreamed to be where she was at that moment. Now her moment had come and she feel her courage beginning to freeze. 'No, no, I can't,' she thought, trying not to let the panic rising within to overwhelm her. 'I can just leave. I can back out right now.' Then Drae's time was up.
Minerva's eyes opened, as though she'd only been pretending to sleep. Drae's stomach dropped at the look of rage in the immortals eyes and she knew there was no turning back now. She didn't hesitate a second longer, she couldn't. It was kill or be killed now. She knew if Minnie got out of that bed, if she even uttered a word, it'd all be over. Drae raised the Ambrose Blade above her head and brought it down with all of the strength she could muster.
The blade hit home deep into Minerva's throat. Drae felt a surge of energy and bloodlust. A surge of pure power in a righteous kill. She pulled the blade from Minerva's neck, ripping the wound wide opened; red, glimmering immortal blood gushed like a fountain. Drae brought the blade down again, but this time she didn't stop. She stabbed Minerva again and again and again. And again. She stabbed her evil stepmother, until her arm hurt. Until there was nothing left but minced meat. Drae stepped back from her work, spent.
The former goddes was dead. Blood poured from so many wounds on the body that Drae couldn't tell which ones had been the fatal blow. She decided she didn't care. The fear she'd been at war with, before she'd struck the first blow, came screaming back with a venegance. It would be morning soon. Minerva's personal aid would be coming to tend to her mistress in a just a few hours; Drae needed to get the fuck out of there and fast. She took one last look at her handy work and already felt herself detaching from it all. She forced the emotions threatening to overtake her, back down into her lock box where they belonged. The deed was done, that's what mattered. Ding-dong.
Drae made it back to her room the same way she had come. No one saw. No one would know. The house would wake in a matter of hours, none the wiser. It could be hours before the body was found. All she had to do was burn the clothes, wash the blood, and she was in the clear. Drae caught a glimpse of herself in her mirror and was shocked. She was covered in blood, and chunks of flesh. Her eyes looked wild, almost crazed. She looked like a complete savage. She felt like one too. She carved herself into a new animal when she'd stuck that first blow.
Drae took the rest of the night, cleaning herself. She clean the Ambrose Blade and stashed it, reverently back in it's home. She burned the soiled clothes, and all the evidence pointing to her for the body in the north wing. She made her way to the dining room with no indication of her guilt as she was greeted by a joyous, "happy birthday," by her brothers, father, and the mansion staff. She smiled to the room, but mostly to herself, as she took the vacate seat at the head of the table. The one made for a queen. 'That's right," Drae thought blissfully. 'Happy birthday to me.'

The End... thanks for ready, I hope you enjoyed!

@EnchantedHart

© LaKeisha Hart

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