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Chapter Two:
The Assassin
One of my
favorite regulars started coming after I got my liquor license and started
serving as a full bar as well. Her name? Allison ‘Allie’ Baya. She was a known
assassin that loved my place. She was an amazing woman; one would never guess
she was a highly trained assassin. She was tall, with blood red and pink spiked
short hair, her eyes were so dark of brown they looked black, her signature clothing
was black leather pants, leather knee high boots with a six inch stiletto heel,
blood red leather corset style top, and a black leather jacket. We talked about
a lot of nothing, missions we both had been on, the government that denies the
jobs we have done, the lovers in our past, the fact the Unions Baseball team
are creations of Lucifer (he states that was all his dear ole Daddy), and how
the Green Sox (the team Lucifer states was his creation) were preforming that
year. One night, late at night, we were the only ones in the place and she
finally told me her past.
Allie
smiled. “Well, I guess you could say I woke up from an abusive relationship…”
Allie
did what she was supposed to do, go to school, get married, but the man was
abusive at best, and would kill her one day at worst. He was cheating on her.
But she had been raised to be this man’s wife. She took it until the straw that
broke the camel’s back came falling down.
Her
father had basically sold her to her husband. Any rebellion as a child had been
met with pain. To avoid death she became what she was raised to be, a silent possession
of a man.
With
each beating it broke her mind more and more. Each rape destroyed her mind bit
by bit. The pain cracked her soul. But as her mind broke the need to get away
grew.
Especially
when she discovered she was pregnant.
So
she started to plan. She had to be careful and plot her rebellion.
Then
one night it came to head. She didn’t want to fight. She let him say and do
what he wanted, but he took offence she was no longer fighting and he started
to beat her. And as she tried to protect her unborn child she knew it would end
in her greatest failure. That night her mind finally fully broke along with her
body.
The
man who called himself her husband had made his last mistake. As she laid in
the hospital she vowed she would make sure he paid for his capital crime. She
had said her last ‘I’m Sorry’ while crawling on the floor in fear and her
blood.
Allie
looked at the man who had left her black and blue. Who had killed her unborn
child. She picked up the axe; she lifted it above his sleeping form. And with
the weight of the axe and all her power she brought it down on his neck. She took a picture and sent it to her father
who forced her to marry the man. “The King Is Dead! Long Live The Queen!” She
captioned it, showing her hold his head up and a manic smile on her face.
She was found
dancing with his head in his blood by the police an hour later. “It’s a party
in his honor!” She yelled at them. And it was a party in honor of the son she
lost.
The man who took
her son’s life, the man almost broke her soul taking her son, was now dead, and
paid for his crime.
But she vowed
that no man would ever get the best of this Queen again!
Allie
stood in court and smiled at the female judge. “Your honor, I choose you to
hear my trail. I want to make a statement.” She took a deep breath. “I was
forced into the marriage by my father. He was abusive and was going to kill me.
So I married his friend. But the friend was worse. I was raped on a nightly
basis. He cheated on me. He beat me to an inch of my life. I had to fight for
every breath I have taken in this world. They underestimated me. He beat me to
an inch of my life and killed my unborn child, your honor.” Allie could see the
tears start in the woman’s eyes. “So, I staged my revolution. I evolved past
the meek door mat. My revolution left me bruised, broken, bloody, dying. So, I
took the axe in a moment of desperation. I preformed my final act of defiance.
My mind broke. I killed him. And then danced in his blood as he spilt mine and
my child’s, upon the floor of my prison. Your honor, this was an act of a woman
with nothing left to lose. Of a woman with a broken body and mind, but not
heart or soul, a woman who needed to win her revolution or lose what little she
had left of her soul. Please, forgive me your honor.”
Less
than an hour, actually it was forty-seven minutes, was all it took for the
judge to deliberate and come to her verdict. Allie came out with a not guilty
by reason of temporary insanity. She was free to go. She stood on the steps of
the court house. The Kings that ruled her life were either now arrested in
jail, or dead. And that left her, the Queen, very much alive. She smirked at
the statue of justice. “No lies were told, no secrets left unturned, there are
punishments that fit the crime, but I committed no crime. Look at me in all my
glory, Justice, nobody will ever get this Queen.”
Allie
walked off that steps of that court house and found a league of assassins who
taught her, who took her in, who built her back up. Who truly made her ‘The
Queen.’
“So
that is my story.” Allie finished as she finished her Black and Tan. “I was
done, and needed a clean slate. The King is Dead, but The Queen is Very Much
Alive!” She cheered.
I
topped off her drink, and I raised mine to her. “GOD BLESS THE QUEEN!” I yelled
as I toasted to her. Perhaps, one day, I could tell her my story.
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