They made her do it - Emblym swears it on her life. She didn't want any of this, she didn't want this responsibility, they expected too much! Emblym didn't want to be this - what they turned her into.
Emblym wanted the voices to go away. To stop talking to her. To stop making her kill people.
But, at the same time, she enjoyed it. The exhilaration, the thrill. She yearned for another kill. The sight of blood was revolting and beautiful at the same time.
Do you understand now? Emblym can't help it when she takes their heads.
Emblym listened as her teacher drone on and on about the schoolwork assignment. Finish the essay that would be due this Friday, read a few pages in her textbook, nothing she couldn't handle.
Emblym looked across the room to the open window. The sky was grey, and the clouds dark. Once or twice a bird could be seen flying under it. It would definitely rain later, she thought to herself. Geez. She didn't bring a hoodie and didn't want to walk home in the rain. That'll—
Emblym felt as if someone — no, something — struck her across the face. She gasped, stars dancing across her eyes. She could hear the sound of hundreds of voices in her head. They were all yelling, all angry. As if she were in an angry mob and everyone was trying to be heard at once. Emblym couldn't focus on it, it all sounded like gibberish, and made her head hurt.
Emblym cried out in pain, causing the entire class to turn to her. Her hands grasping the ends of her desk, so she didn't fall on the floor. Slowly, the voices were clearing, but it still wasn't quite something she could understand. She needed to get out, too much noise, too much talking!
"Emblym?" Her teacher asked, but Emblym was already leaving. She launched herself from her desk, and headed for the door. Bolting down the hallway, Emblym went straight for the ladies' restroom. She sank to her knees in the corner next to a window.
"Shut up!" She hissed, agitation creeping in her tone. The voices didn't listen, they only got louder. Emblym could understand a few of them now.
'The bloody red queen has gone and past, time for the next to start her task,' sang a few in delirium. Bloody red queen?
"Quiet," Emblym said, her voice smaller now. "Please." The voices were clear with their answer this time.
'No!' They screamed, and Emblym winced.
'How dare you try to silence us!' A few snapped. 'Kill her!'
'Kill her! Kill her! Kill her...!' The chanted like a mantra, and Emblym's head throbbed, she was gasping, sweat and tears rolling down her face. Blood red tears.
Emblym heard footsteps and everything went silent. Emblym was breathing heavily, her eyes wide with fear. Someone's coming, she thought.
"Emblym?" Emblym recognized the voice — it was her school's counselor, Mrs. Glenda. She was a pudgy woman and always caked too much makeup on her pale, chunky face. Nobody likes the woman, she wasn't really helpful with any of the present matters in the school and only stepped in when she absolutely had to.
'Kill her! Kill her!' The voices shouted, 'Take her head! Off with her head!'
Emblym winced, "Shut up!" She hisses, but they didn't stop. If was almost like they couldn't stop. They continued to chant getting progressively louder until they were screaming. Emblym clutched her skull, the words bleeding into her thoughts.
"Emblym? It's Mrs. Glenda, are you alright?" Mrs. Glenda approached and Emblym felt something take form in her hand. A knife. It was tinted red and sharp. Emblym felt her heart pound.
"I can't kill her!" Emblym protested to the voices, her voice a sharp hiss. "She's my guidance counselor! This is mental, I can't do this." Emblym wanted to drop the knife, but her fingers still clutched the handle.
'What about all those times when she would simply stand around, doing nothing?' A new voice said, somehow louder than the screeching of the others. 'When those girls would talk about you right in front of her and she did nothing? This woman is the scum of the earth and it's time to rid it of her.'
Emblym hesitated, recalling the times the voice brought up. When she first moved here, before she met her new friends. She did this, Mrs. Glenda allowed them to tease her, turning a blind eye as she stood there and was forced to take it.
The woman approached, seeing Emblym, "Emblym White, what are you doing? You should be in class. Your grades are already poor as it is, skipping class like this will only worsen it!" Emblym stared at the knife. Did this woman always talk this much? Emblym always knew she sounded annoying, but this much was a bit excessive.
She glanced back at the knife. 'Do it!' The voices urged. 'Do it! Do it! Off with her head!'
"Emblym, speak up this instant!" The woman's round face was turning a tad bit red from the exertion it took — probably from walking up the steps to get here, and the annoying from her lack of an answer.
Emblym stood, feeling the strange knife in her hands. Cool to the touch, but she could feel the ridges of recent use and misuse of several years. Emblym looked at the woman and a flare of adrenaline pumped into her blood, he heart pounding. "Off with your head." Emblym slashed the knife against her throat. It shook her how reflexive the move felt. She didn't usually cut out people throats. The spray of blood was almost automatic. It was thrilling to watch, as she gagged on her own blood, her fat body collapsing to the ground.
Emblym stared at the dying woman. That was... Amazing. It was beautiful, to watch the blood pour out and puddle on the ground. Emblym let out a laugh, bending down to the body. She touched the blood, it was strangely sticky. Emblym licked her finger, the metallic taste warm on her tongue. How peculiar, she thought. In all those movies, blood didn't seem to be like this. So fluid. So delicious.
Emblym took her knife and began to saw the woman's neck. Her knife cut through immediately, even through the bone of her spine. In minutes, her head was detached from her body, allowing more blood to spill from where her neck used to be. Emblym laughed again, this was fun!
Emblym cut another limb — her legs — and then, her arms. She cut her knees from her thighs, and even managed to cut her entire body in half, horizontally. Now dead organs fell to the ground, some of them bisected from her knife, others in tact.
Another person arrived, but Emblym heard the footsteps too late. A man stepped into the bathroom. "Winnie, there's a situation in—" the man stopped, staring at Emblym and... What was left of Mrs. Glenda.
"Hello!" Emblym greeted, waving a bloody hand. "Sorry about the mess, I'm sure the custodians won't have a problem cleaning it, though." He turned to the trash can, and vomited. The voices began to laugh, Emblym almost forgot they were there. It was funny, Emblym laughed too. He was a funny little man.
He pulled out a walkie-talkie, "Call the police!" He rasped, "Now!"
"Oh dear," Emblym stopped laughing, "That's—" the man was shouting incoherently now. Screaming at her, swearing, motioning to what was left of Mrs. Glenda's body. Emblym noticed tears on his face. He was upset?
Of course he'd be upset, Emblym frowned. She just killed a woman.
'Kill him! Kill him!' The voices chanted.
"No!" Emblym hissed, "I'm not killing him!"
'He'll make blood too,' that voice, the one louder than all the others. 'A big man like him? It'll be so much, everywhere.' Emblym was silent for several moments staring at him. Everywhere?
A wicked smile slowly spread on her lips as her knife materialized in her hands. She loved the blood. It was beautiful. She desired more. She wanted more. She needed more.
Emblym lunged and the man moved. She heard the announcement from the PA system, code red school lockdown. The man ran blindly down the hall, screaming. She was about to lunge when a group of police men intercepted her. Emblym had no time to think and they weren't allowing her the time to do so.
One tackled her, knocking her to the ground. A gasp left her throat as they place handcuffs around her wrists and snatched the knife out of her hands. As a group, they dragged her away. Emblym could hear all the beating hearts around her, pumping that dear sweet blood she adored into their body, as so much of it. She began to laugh, laughing hysterically.
Emblym felt the grip of the officer's hand tighten on her shoulder. She didn't care. She was sitting in her boring class, what, ten minutes ago, and then the voices came. They made her kill the guidance counselor, and nearly that funny man, whoever he was. They were ruining her life — they were driving her mad.
Emblym couldn't help herself. She laughed, and then she sobbing and she was crying. Crying blood red tears.
'Long live the bloody red queen,' the voices chanted in unison. 'The most wonderful queen there has ever been.'