It all started one night after a few too many shots. I was celebrating at my very own pity party, with my go to friend, alcohol. It was my birthday and as usual everyone in the kingdom and their grandmother had gone overboard to try and please me. Though after twenty years I should be used to the fuss everyone made for the crowned jewel of the kingdom on her big day. My mother and father had given me the exact opposite of what I asked for, which had become tradition. Mother tried to justify the present with the fact that princesses do not get electric guitars or wolves as pets, though the name of kingdom meant wolf of blood. Instead they bought me a harp and a new saddle for my horse. I was tempted to hang myself from the strings.
After the party, I had at age seven, which had provided me less entertainment than the funerals of dignitaries I had been forced to attend, I decided to make a tradition I would enjoy. Every year after the day I most dreaded was over I would have my cousin keep watch while I raided the kitchen of all the junk food I could fit into my little arms. I would take it back to my quarters and we would eat until we fell asleep. After a while my parents and aunt got used to the food coma my cousin and I would be in the day after my birthday. The sweets turned to alcohol at age nineteen though, Elijah stopped joining me then as he was three years younger and my family did not approve of underage drinking.
It was on the night I had successfully outlived my teenage years that everything had begun to go downhill.
The first thing I noticed that morning was the word DANGER written in black ink. When I had finally regained the ability to open my bloodshot, gray eyes and comprehend what I was seeing I noticed it was a book, covered in blood red fabric and stitched together with barbed wire. The front had peculiar markings that I had seen before but could not remember the name of. I was sure the book did not belong in my room, though after last night everything had become foggy. My own name was swimming in and out of my memory. I swore that morning I would never drink again, though I was sure that like all my previous birthdays by the next one that oath would be broken. The book looked like it belonged in my aunt's workshop and I could only hope that I had not broken in there while drunk last night. She would slaughter me then hang my head on her door as a warning towards others. With that image planted firmly in my mind I decided it would be best to return the book before my aunt Cassia woke up, though it was already past dawn.
When I got out of my bed and set my bare feet on my floor they came back sticky. For some reason, unknown to my hungover self, there was blood on the floor. This would lead most to scream or hide, maybe even both though I had grown accustomed to the shady tasks I did while drunk. I checked my arms to see if the blood was mine and found a deep cut in my palm that had luckily stopped bleeding. I checked my long goldilocks curls. "No blood in my hair, good sign." Mother would kill me if I got blood on the silk sheets. I reached for the book on my nightstand but I managed to knock it down onto the floor. It fell open to a page that had a shape identical to the one drawn on my floor, in my blood. I grabbed the book and read the caption underneath the image, 'The pentagram must be drawn on a full moon using the blood of a virgin.' The rest of the writing was in Latin, a lesson I often slept through; though my aunt or someone had scribbled that note underneath. One word caught my eye though daemon translated to demon. I had been participating in some questionable activities last night.
It was about that time that an attractive, scratch that understatement, gorgeous man decided to come strolling out of my bathroom in nothing but a towel. So, I obviously did what any hungover and slightly crazy girl would in that situation, I threw the book at his head. This did nothing to faze him. He looked at me, then the back, then back to me. He calmly moved across the room and grabbed my arm in one hand while holding his towel in the other. "Christ Doll Face that's quite a greeting."
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Hell of a Roommate (Mayhem rewrite)
Humor(Rewrite of Mayhem of Hellish Majesties.) Mary is a princess. She doesn't like the rules that come with the title. She does like getting drunk, avoiding old people and spreading mayhem throughout the castle. On her birthday she gets drunk and does s...
