• A lady wearing a small sized silver dress peered down at the dead bleeding girl. The man was laughing crazily now, as a silver ball of energy was absorbed into his heart.

    She bit her lip nervously as the mans horrible laughter died away. They both stood in silence. The lady smiled, but her lips trembled.

    "Should we leave the body?" The man asked huskily, but the lady shook her head.

    "Take it to the graveyard and leave the tombstone unmarked. Then bury the girl under that stone. Tell everyone she ran away." The lady commanded, resolve coming back into her voice.

    The man hesitated. "Daughter, you're the heir now, nobody will doubt it. They always knew she was reckless. They'll scorn her name and you'll rule unopposed." He spoke happily.

    The lady spun around, the silver reflecting off the light the candles gave off. She had no shadow.

    "If anyone is to ask me of my deranged sister, tell them I am an only child. She was merely adopted." She snarled and proudly walked out of the barn, lifting the hem of her skirt slighty.

    The man draped the girls body over his shoulder and walked the other way.

    Kyran clutched at the place where hearts were supposed to be. She was at the place where the backyards began and the thick trees ended.

    "Sister. . .why?" She sobbed. The man she felt no compassion for, but her sister? She had nothing to fear of her, her little sister.

    Kyran Hishaya. The littlest member of the royal family that lived in the tiny rural town. This place was so familar to her.

    Her sister was still alive. Anyone who has commited a crime in their life, whether they were one who did it, or who manipulated those to commit the crime, lives long enough to suffer for two lifespans of a human.

    The only problem was, where she reigned. Kyran walked mechanically, until she reached the smooth pavement.

    She stood there for an eternity of seconds. Time slipped slowly by her. There was no more royalty in such a small place.

    Kyran looked up, to the farthest north point . A church spire rose majestically out of all the shabby buildings around it.

    Possibly. Kyran looked mournfully at the spire. Then, the sun peaked over the horizon, covering the tops of the buildings with a light pinkish glow.

    A slow haunting melody filled the air. Kyran darted across the road and ran straight towards the churches spire. That was the melody that played from her sisters music box she'd gotten for her 18th birthday.

    Her new shoes slapped the ground, and buildings blurred past. Kyran hardly noticed. Her eyes were glued on the tip of the church.

    She nearly crashed into an early morning jogger, who glared at her and turned around and kept jogging.

    She reached the steps and panted. To her ghostly presence, the melody hit it's peak here. She climbed the steps slowly, and her hand rested on the gilded handle.

    Kyran yanked the door open and quickly stepped inside, casting an uneasy glance backwards.

    A young lady, in her twenties, sat on a church pew up by the altar. The silvery dress glimmered in the near darkness. Kyran edged forward, feeling anger and betrayal well up inside of her.

    The lady rocked back and forth to the melody, humming softly. Place delicately on the altar, was a porcelin box opened up, and a dancing couple gracefully moved to the music.

    The lady cast an alarmed glance at Kyran. She quickly got up and straightened her dress.

    "I'm sorry I-" She started, but Kyran interupted. "Selene! Sister. . ." She began strong and faltered at the end.

    The lady was so shocked she staggered back a few steps. She rested one hand on the pew and looked harder at Kyran.

    "You." She snarled and walked briskly over to her. Her perfectly painted lips were bared and white teeth gleamed.

    Kyran stood up taller. "I killed him. You're little friend. Our father." She hissed. Selene roared with indignity.

    "LIAR!" She yelped, her nails sharpening into claws. Kyran held up the bloodred cane and Selene gasped.

    "You little brat!" She rasped and retched Kyran up by the throat, her nails digging into the flesh.

    "You may have a new body to posess, but that doesn't change the fact I'll take in that girls soul and yours!" She gleefully snarled.

    Kyran lightly touched her forehead, but Selene smacked her hand away. "That touch of death won't work on me! You used too much of that on Malcolm, our naive little father. Too weak." She laughed lightly and threw Kyran into the old crumbling wall.

    Kyran spat out blood and gazed at her once beloved sister.

    "Why. . .why have him kill me? I was younger then you! You had everything!" Kyran's voice edged on hysteria. "You inheirited the royalty first!"

    Selene smiled, almost with peaceful serenity. "Because you didn't deserve it. I kept that power. Your name was brushed away into dust. And would you have guessed it? It made me so damn happy." She cackled and reached out to grab Kyran.

    Kyran got up and stumbled away, reaching the first step of the altar. Selene screamed and flung herself towards the box. Kyran was quicker and closer. She grabbed the box and flung it down onto the stone steps.

    The music that had played so constantly, let out the last note. Selene was gasping for air, as two shrunken black claws found her throat, and pulled her closer to the wall, from within a black hole swirled that hadn't been there before.

    Other slimy hands grabbed her waist, hands, and feet. Before she could scream any louder, a massive black bloody hand covered her mouth and pulled her all the way into the hole, where it was covered back up with the stones in the wall.

    Kyran knelt before the box, which was rapidly becoming dust. She picked up the dancing couple. Before there was a graceful woman and man. Now there was red on the womans gown, and the man was gone.

    She placed it in the jacket pocket, and walked over to the cane. Kyran twirled it aimlessly between two fingers and staggered out of the church.

    She rested on the steps and watched as the church spire, crumbled away into dust, followed by the rest of the church, until all that was left was the steps and Kyran.

    'One left.'