• Chapter One- Part Two




    A week had passed since I had left the kingdom. I was a Pristess' daughter and the ninth to be named Ella Elizabeth. Just like my mother, I had long hair that was curled at the end. I was still alive. This was probably because I was a priestess as well. My mother, being the head, had the right to do anything she wanted. I would remove her from that position. Her and every woman thast came past her.The thing I did not know what to do wasd how i would kill them all and get away without being murdered at the same time.

    People had begun to talk about how a preistess had been killed. They were talking about me. the only thing was, I wasn't dead. I could still feel a pulse in my neck. I cursed, thinking it was too late to go back now. A man stepped in front of me.

    "Ella Elizabeth the ninth?" He said to me in a questioning tone," Y-you have the right to remain silent. We are taking you into custody and your excecution will be tonight. Your mother has ordered this." I simply shook my head at him. Was there something I could do to them? Really, I belived my only option was running away at the moment. But, on the brightside I could simply think of what the other man had happened to him when he tried to kill me. My head swam with thoughts of how to kill him. thoughts I had never had before.

    " I am no longer Ella Elizabeth the ninth. I am now, Ella Eliza the first," I replied," And you, you will either serve me for all time, or...or you can die." I finished the sentence with a smile and laughed at his face.
    "By order of Ella Elizabeth the eighth, I will now take you with me!" He ran at me full speed. With a swift kick to the face, I was unexpectantly on top of him with my fist raised in the air. I began punching him. The first six or seven times, it did almost nothing to him. Now it started to leave bruises and his nose ran with blood. The corners of his mouth had blood beginning to run down his lips. I laughed as if it were a joke as I continued to slam my fist, right on his face. He was unconsous for a while and I figured it was no fun to see him in painful torture without the look of pain on his bloody face. I stood up. Grabbing his wrist, I dragged him away from the place where much blood lay on the ground. It reminded me of the beach. As I turned back to get a quick look, I smiled at the mess I had made.