“My prince! You have been blessed with these heavenly maidens!” Draven, the prince’s noble advisor, grinned sharply as he waved to the line of suitors for the prince. Each suitor has a chance to become the prince’s bride. “Come along ladies. Line up in front of the prince.” Draven looked up at the prince. “Perhaps one of these young ladies will become your Queen.”

    Prince Vincent Obsidian yawned and rolled his eyes. He could care less for these completely unworthy women. “Very unlikely, Draven.”

    Draven sighed. Then he perked up. “Why don’t you go first, my Lady?” Draven smiled and called to the first maiden in line. 

    Vincent, Draven, and the elegant suitors were all in the Prince’s throne room. Onyx colored columns supported the arched ceiling of the darkly toned throne room. Dark greys, silvers, blood reds, and midnight blacks were the only colors in this enchanting room. 

    Vincent scowled at the first maiden. A pretty little thing. She looked like a tiny, fragile doll. The prince could shatter her even so easily. She giggled at the prince. She gently sat in his lap. The maiden was confident. She was sure she would have a chance with the prince. 

    “I am Precious, My prince. Lord Piere is my father,” Precious smiled. It was a bewitching, angelic smile.  

    Precious had honey-gold wavy locks, sea-blue eyes, and pale skin. Her teeth were as shiny as pearls. She had a beauty mark underneath her left eye. Precious wore a lavender dress of endless flowing ruffles. She most certainly was a thing of beauty. Precious was precious. 

    Vincent looked her up and down. “Precious?”

    “Yes, my dearest prince?” Precious cupped both of the prince’s cheeks. She stared into his breath-taking green eyes. This was it. She had won him over. 

    “You are not precious to me. Be gone,” Vincent looked away from her without hesitation. His cold eyes grew colder. 
    Precious felt her little heart shatter into a million little pieces. She began to weep. She had been wrong. The prince didn’t love her at all. He felt nothing for her. Nothing at all. 

    “Come now, dear. The prince is rather… picky,” Draven called to the weeping Precious. “I am positive that your father has found a perfect man for you. He is a noble. Nobles know many, many people.” 

    Precious arose from Vincent’s lap and ran away, crying. Precious’s footsteps and clicking heels could be heard as she ran down the hall to the front entrance of the castle. The other maidens in line kept their eyes on Vincent. Some were now worried. Others were filled with more confidence. 

    Draven cleared his throat. “Well then… next fair maiden!” Draven forced a smile at the next girl. 

    The next girl in line grinned. She bowed. And just like Precious, she sat in Vincent lap. However, she wrapped her thin arms around his neck. 

    “Pleasure to meet you finally, my future husband. I am Whisper. My last name doesn’t matter. It will be Obsidian in the future, anyway,” Whisper grinned. 

    Whisper was a young African American girl. She was merely 17. She was the daughter of a sea captain. One could smell the sea on her skin. She had short black hair with a sea blue flower planted in her hair. It had a coral center. Her eyes were the color of coconuts. He dress matched her flower: coral lace with a slit on both sides. The slit reached up to her thighs. 

    “Whisper? What kind of name is that?” Vincent whispered to Whisper. He was being cruel. He had everything planned out. “Is the stable boy you’re going to be married off to be named Shout or Scream? Or even Yell?”

    “S-Stable boy…?” Whisper gasped. Her eyes were wide. Tears were already welling in her eyes. 

    “Yes. Stable boy. Away now. Be gone,” Vincent harshly whispered to her. 

    Whisper ran away crying just like Precious. Her heels could be heard as well. 

    “Next!” Draven called. 

    “Why did you turn all of them away, your highness?” Draven raised an eyebrow at the bored Prince Vincent. 

    “I felt nothing for them. Nothing. At all,” Vincent studied his trimmed fingernails. 

    “Every woman loves you, Prince Vincent! Those women would do anything for you! They would throw themselves at you!” Draven exclaimed. He threw his arms up. “Surely there’s one woman that has caught your fancy!” Draven frowned. “There must be at least one.”

    “Not. A. One,” Vincent arose from his throne. He flicked his long hair behind his shoulder. “I am going hunting. That will actually be entertaining.”

    “But my prince! You need a Queen to become King!”

    “Alexzandre!” Vincent called out. 

    “My prince are listening?!” Draven stormed up to him. “I swear you are just like your Father! You are 21 already! You need a Queen! What would your Father think-!”

    Vincent grabbed him by his shirt collar. “Silence. Do not EVER mention my Father. He is dead. And that is all. I am going hunting now,” Vincent let go out Draven’s collar. He turned away. 

    Draven crawled away slowly from the prince. He rubbed his neck. He was thankful that Vincent had not grabbed his neck with his firm, strong hands. Draven knew that the prince was cold hearted… his heart was ice.. he was completely unaware that he was this cruel…

    Alexzandre entered the throne room. “What is it that you desire, my prince?” Alexzandre bowed. 

    Alexzandre was the captain of the guard. He was a knight, a very noble one. He had short, spiky blonde hair. He had dark eyes. They were a slight grey color. He was a muscular young man. He was a young man of his mere twenties. He was nineteen to be exact. He would be twenty in one month. 

    “I’m going hunting. Come with me,” Vincent left his dark throne room without a second thought. He didn’t even look at Draven or Alexzandre. He just walked out without care. 

    Alexzandre saw Draven rise up to his feet. “A-As you wish, Your Highness!” Alexzandre scurried after the prince. Alexzandre knew the prince had a heart of ice. He knew to not wrong the prince… 

    Draven dusted off his robes and cloak. He sighed and shook his head. “What am I going to do with that boy?”

Idea 1

Kyoko slammed the door shut behind her. Her heart was racing. Her breathing was ragged. She was trembling. The sounds of human screams rang in her ears. Blood splattered all over her clothes. Her hands were drenched in blood. Every few seconds, blood droplets would fall to the hardwood floor of her once nice looking apartment. Her flaming red hair was dampened with sweat… and blood. Most of the blood was not hers. It belonged to someone very dear to her. And a few others.

The splatter that was on her face raced down into her mouth. The bitter metallic taste of the blood made her want to vomit. She felt sickly. She knew her demise was near. She did something horrid… some terrible…

At this moment, Kyoko hated blood.

Kyoko slummed down onto the floor with her back pressed against the door. Her smoke colored eyes were wide with fear. She was scared. She was going to be found. All of her crimes… all of the murders… were going to be exposed. They will finally discovered her… All because of her dear friend…

         Kyoko had slaughtered her best friend… Her screams haunted her. Kyoko dug her hands through her hair. She let out a spine chilling scream of agony. They knew what she did. They knew of her secrets. She was in deep trouble…

         Kyoko knew what she had to do. Her path was clear, absolutely clear.