Colourless

Chapter Thirty-Four

Standing before the president, I wasn't sure what I was expecting.

Perhaps I expected a goblin-like-creature, evilly hunched over in his chair, but instead I just saw a man. A weak, frail man who looked exhausted. His tailored suit was too loose on his thin frame and his pale skin was laced with ugly bruises.

The woman who hovered beside his chair, however, was all but ethereal. She wore a smile that contradicted the situation and was dressed in a matching pink pencil skirt and blazer that wreaked of careless optimism — the same optimism I had heard over the loudspeakers at the ceremony many months ago.

Her gloved hand fell to lay on the President's shoulder and he almost flinched. "It seems we have guests," the woman spoke evenly, her smiling morphing into something feline-like, "I'm sure you've all seen me before... call me Melanie, I feel like Mrs First Lady is too formal." The woman tittered at her own joke and I almost vomited.

Malik shielded me protectively as my mind warped with terrified thoughts, before I finally gasped; concluding what had so suddenly become obvious. "You," I breathed slowly, shifting to meet the woman's eyes.

"Me," she mimicked mockingly, before scanning her eyes over my body. "Well, I think I've discovered who the leader is... would you like a seat, Ms Damocles?"

The air escaped my lungs. If the woman knew me, she surely knew of my family.

"You orchestrated this, didn't you?" I enquire, attempting to regain my faltered composure, "Surely if this many people had been murdered by the government before, the institute would have done something. Which leads me to believe that all of these really horrible acts began when your husband came into office this year."

Melanie's grip on her husband's shoulder visibly tightened, causing the man to cower. "Apparently people will allow segregation, but they won't allow a woman into office."

"I think it's less the whole woman part, and more so the heinous bitch part," Charles spits, glaring over the shoulder of a weapon-drawn henchman.

I hum tauntingly in agreement, "Who would let someone as evil as you into parliament?"

"That's the thing, dear," Melanie cackles, "They have let people like me in. I'm standing in the place of where many have before. You just didn't realize it, because they do things slowly. False sense of security, and all of that."

"So, you were the on pulling the strings, huh?" Malik asks, returning to shielding me — except this time with only his arm, so that I could still glare at the woman in pure hatred.

"Of course," Melanie snarls, "Especially when my husband is like you filthy outliers."

I almost collapse in shock, feeling Ellie's grip on the back of my shirt falter before tightening again. "You mean he's—"

"Colourless," Melanie interjects, leaving a deepened scowl on Lucille's face, "That's what you call yourselves, right? It's... cute."

"Well, I'm about to get goddamn adorable," Malik snarled and I gripped the back of his shirt when he threatened to lurch forward; the air escaping my lungs as Melanie hurriedly grasped the previously unforeseen gun on her husband's desk.

Noticing my hold on Malik, she laughed. "Good doggy," she cooed tauntingly, gesturing for Malik to back away with her cocked gun. Malik scowled, before protectively covering me as Melanie carelessly point the weapon over her shoulder; firing a round that pierced the floor-to-ceiling windows and caused a pane to shatter. "Now, listen to mummy and tell her to step forwards."