You're killing people
No, I'm killing boys
Boys are just placeholders, they come and they go
You're my best friend, and I wanna help you
But I won't let you kill again
That's a lose-lose
-Halsey, killing boys.

1871

Two women and a man were in a bar, they had all had 2 or 3 drinks. The man had had enough and had to go to work tomorrow, he didn't want to be hung over at work. So he said good bye to the women, his wife and sister telling them to not get too drunk.

The women partied on and on late in to the night. At around 2 am, they decided to go home. When they got there, they entered their house and went upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, the man was there. Waiting for them, he doesn't usually do this, they would have been confused, but their drunk minds couldn't comprehend it.

"I told you not to get too drunk." he shouted.

"I Don.. Don't know what yo.. You're talking about." his wife said, her words slurred, drunk.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"What am I going to do with you two?" he sighed.

He raised his hand and walked over to them.

"You need to be taught a lesson."

He lowered his hand and struck. His wife's head fell sideways, her hand went up to where he hit her, the spot already turning red.

"You can't do that to her." his sister stepped in.

She put herself between him and his wife.

"No one will stop me from doing what I can to contain my troublesome, disobedient wife."

"The authorities may not, but I will." she said determinedly.

He smiled.

"You also became my property when dad died. And, since you refuse to marry, I can do what I want with you too, sister." he says sister with such spice.

She winces from his tone but doesn't back down. His wife has become the sister she never had to her and she will do what she can to save her sister. Even if that means getting hurt instead.

"Becky, it's okay." his timid wife says.

"No, it's not." Becky says determined, "he shouldn't be able to do this to you, it's not right."

"How dare you speak like this towards me." he shouts.

"How dare you treat us like shit on your shoe." she shouts.

He strikes her.

"Do not swear. Thou shalt not swear. Go, pray to God, pray for your forgiveness." he orders.

"No."

"What?"

"I will not go and pray. I will not be shoved around by you anymore."

"You will pray. Even if I have to force you."

With that thought, he starts pulling her along. She shouts and screams at him to let go. But he won't.

"Go downstairs and PRAY." he shouts.

He pushes her roughly towards the stairs, not realising just how hard he pushed her.

She got to the top of the stairs unbalanced. Her arms wavered about. And she fell. All you could hear was a bumb, bumb, bumb. Then silence. Both of the others stared at the stairs in shock.

The wife was the one to break the silence, she screamed, and ean down the stairs shouting.

"Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh god."

She rushed down the stairs but screamed when she saw what was once her best friend and sister in law a bloody mess at the foot of her stairs.

She put her hand over her mouth and sobbed hard at what was in front of her. She turned away, not able to look at it any more.

"You." she started walking back up the stairs, the sobbing stopped and all she felt was anger. Anger towards her husband for killing her best friend, his sister.

"You did this." she shouted.

"She's dead BECAUSE OF YOU."

At the top of the stairs was her husband. He was staring at his hands in despair.

"You killed your own sister."

She stared at him, hurt and betrayed. She had to avenge her friend though.

"Oh how you must feel." She taunted.

"You killed your sister. What does it feel like, to have the blood of your own kin on your hands."

"Shut up." he whispered.

"Or what, you'll kill me too?"

"Shut up." He said, louder this time.

"No, you don't have the guts. What are you going to tell the authorities?"

"Shut up."

"You're going to get locked up. And I'll be glad of it. I don't want to live in the house of a murderer."

"SHUT UP."

He lunges at her and pushes her up against the wall, his hand at the base of her throat. He could kill her at any second.

"I won't be locked up, because the police won't find out."

"They will, I'll tell them."

He smacks her across the face holds her neck tighter, she can barely breath.

"No, because my sister died of a freak accident. She fell down the stairs. It was such a tragic accident to find her their the next day. And if you tell anyone otherwise, you might just find yourself involved in another freak accident." he threatened.

She gulped, knowing full well that he will follow through with his threats.

"Now go to out room and wait there." He orders.

She obeys, tears start appearing at her eyes again. She goes to their room and cries. Cries for her dead friend. She gets down on her knees and prays.

"Dear lord, please make sure that my best friend makes a safe journey to your kingdom in heaven. Please God, make my husband pay for his crimes. Amen."

She hurries to stand. Straightening out her dress from her rushed prayer. Her husband enters the room.

"Get to bed." he orders.

She was about to obey and get in to their bed when three figure emerged from the darkness. They were in yellow, white and red dresses, they had long blonde hair and yellow eyes. They were Grace, Belle and Aria.

"No, don't go to bed." Grace said.

"Go stand over there." Aria points towards the corner at the other side of the room.

Both the man and his wife go towards the corner.

"No, not you, filthy man." Belle says, "you stay right where you are.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"We are your wife's answer to her prayer." Grace says.

The wife gasped. She didn't mean for this to happen. What will they do to him. If they hurt him, who will go to work, who will pay the bills? What will she do without him? She will be kicked out on to the streets, left to die.

"Now, what to do, what to do?" Belle asks.

Grace pulls out a razor.

"We have this new toy." She says.

The others giggle in glee.

"Ooh, can I have the first go?" Aria asks.

Grace hands Aria the razor. Aria runs her fingers across the sharp edge, careful not to cut herself. She leans towards him and slashes along both of his legs. The man cries out in pain and collapses to the floor. The wife gasps in shock.

Aria hands the razor to Belle. Belle looks at it in wonder. She crouches down to his height. She grabs his arm and cuts the razor in and slowly drags it up his arm. He screams in pain.

Grace kneels next to Belle and takes the razor off her. She then grabs his other arm and cuts along it vertically. He has stopped screaming, accepting his fate. The life slowly drains out from his eyes as he bleeds out to death.

The three girls turn to his wife.

"It was fate." they say together.

The wife stares at them in horror. She rushes forward and grabs the razor off of Grace before she could react and slits her throat. What else could she do? Die a slow and painful death out on the streets, begging for scraps of food or money. Her blood soaks the floorboards as she cloapses to the floor, dead.

"Fate couldn't save her." The three said again, staring at her dead body in sorrow.

Avalon pov

I don't know how long it's been. Days, weeks, months. I've stopped counting. I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if it had been years, it seems like it has been.

The unfortunate (but also fortunate in many ways) fact is, I don't get periods.

I dont know why though. Dea would always assure me that I can have children but, because women have a limited supply of eggs, all of mine would have run out, it's not like I could have an infinite amount. She says that I don't get periods because I need to keep the eggs in me so my body can be ready for when I do want kids. The unfortunate thing with this is, I have no way of telling if it has been months, week or days.

Ever since they found out that I can't be easily harmed, they haven't been holding back. They've left no scars. Not on the outside, a goddesses body has to be perfect. No imperfections allowed. On the inside though they've scared me. They've scared my heart, images will always haunt my brain. My dreams no longer plagued with visions of my childhood, but visions of my capture.

I have learnt. Learnt to comply. Learnt that even if I give them what they want, I will always be harmed. Learnt that if I give them answers, the torture will be quicker. Learnt that they never hold back.

When I am good, they let me have my underwear back. Its a privilege. So is food and water. They learnt I can't die, so they haven't given me the privilege of food and water for guardians knows how long.

They make sure I know. Know they can do as they please to me. Know what my future will hold. Torture. Know that I am their toy.

Something stirs in my mind. This brings me to attention. I take my head out of my red raw hands and look around. It happens again. It's sort of like a stretch, a flex.

It's like.... Dea?

Dea, Dea. Are you there? I shout in to my mind. Yes, I'm here. A faint voice calls out. Oh Dea. Where have you been? You don't know how lonely it is without you. I couldn't contact you with all the silver and wolfsbane.

Oh Dea. Its been torture. I start crying. No. Deas tone is kind but firm. I will not let you cry over him. Let's get out of here.

But how? My hands and legs have silver chains on them and the walls are lined with silver. I point out. Escape is pointless. What do you think I've been doing this whole time? I have managed to gather enough energy for an escape. I will lend you my energy.

But Dea, what if they catch us? I continue my pity party. Enough. Her tone is authoritive. We are the moon goddess. Guardian of werewolves. We can take down some simple kidnappers coated in wolfsbane, dressed in silver and blindfolded.

I wouldn't test out that theory if I were you. But you are right. Let's get out of here.

I look at my wrists. They are red from the silver chains on them. It will be hard to get through. But not impossible.

All of a sudden, a wave of energy and power bursts through my body. I feel revived, renewed. I feel powerful.

I weakly force my self to stand up. My knees wobble and it takes a few attempts, but I get there. I lift my arms above my head, take a deep breath and throw them downwards. I bite my tongue to stop myself from crying out.

It is pure agony but I have delt with much worse from Liko, I can deal with this.

It takes a few tries, but I manage to break them. I move to my feet next. I use a my strength and grab the silver chains in my feet and pull. It hurts so much. I can feel it burning at my skin but I don't let it stop me. I can taste blood in my mouth. I have been biting down so hard on my tongue that it drew blood.

With a grunt, the chains around my ankles are off and at the other side of the room.

I shuffle towards the door and try it. Luckily, the handle isn't silver too. I mean, rogues are the ones running these torture Chambers. Silver would hurt them too.

The door is locked. I shove my elbow against it, and with all my strength, it is forced open.

Stupid rogues, didn't even post a guard outside my door to make sure I didn't escape. They were counting on me not having the strength to do that, that's why the tortured me every day.

With adrenaline running rampant through my veins, I set off. Only one thing set in my mind.

Everyone must pay for the pain they caused here. Everyone in this building will die tonight. I will make sure of it.

Hi everyone. Thank you for reading. Please tell me if I make any spelling mistakes, I am awful at spelling.
Word count - 2240 words