Urge

Prologue

A red gown floated around her as she descended the stairs— silver blood trailing behind her. She calmly brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear and turned the corner, coming face to face with her father, the King. His eyes shot over to the trail of blood flowing off the train of her dress. He raised his eyebrows in confusion and disapproval, and she gave a short laugh.
"Oh Father, you know what had to be done." She smiled, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. A small crowd of servants had formed around them, watching with anticipation. After a few tense moments of silence, the King responded.
"What have you done Juliet?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly. This brought out another barking laugh from her.
"Well, she suggested I wait for my Romeo. I didn't like that very much. Can you tell?" She asked innocently, slowly dragging her finger down the length of his arm. He watched her with smoldering eyes, before breaking her spell and sprinting up the stairs behind her. She casually leaned against the polished railing, surveying the servants encircling the area. A large sob rang out from upstairs, and footsteps thudded down the hallway. Her father emerged, carrying a limp woman in his arms, covered in her silver blood.
"How could you kill your own mother?" He asked, his voice shaking uncontrollably. His eyes drilled into hers, and she shifted to take a step closer.
"Oh Father, how silly of you to ask. In the end, we are all made of flesh that can be cut, and bones that can be broken." She responded calmly, slowly moving up the steps until she reached him. She held out her arms expectantly, and he looked away as he handed the bleeding woman over.
"Juliet, please be reasonable. This is your mother!" He pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. Something in her eyes sparked, and she looked down at her mother's limp figure. Suddenly, she thrust it back at her father, and sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
"What have I done? What have I done!" She cried out, her sobs filling the tense air. He slowly leaned down and helped her stand up. Leading her down the stairs, he whispered into her ear.
"Don't worry, Juliet. We will figure out what disease you have and fix you. Don't you worry little girl." His warm breath against her face calmed her, and she leaned into him, and then stepped away from her father and bleeding mother, running frantically down the hall.
"Where are you going?" He called after her. She didn't even turn her head towards him to respond.
"I'm getting away from myself."