Where there once was softness, Now all had turned to stone As she fades to grey Her light skin turning hard Her beauty only a picture now Only a sight to behold Turned to stone As she crumbled away So did my own heart

I need someone to cut out my heart, So that I am void of all loving pain; For one has fragmented all of me Until nothing but sad solitude remained.

All that once was soft and joyous Has turned to stone and dust. My heart no longer beats; No loving thuds repeat.

Once upon a time, I liked a girl. She had brown hair And brown eyes. She wore sweaters and leggings, And never put her hair up. She was kind, And fun, And just a little bit crazy. She never had many friends, But she really loved and cared for the ones she had. She was friend_ly_ with everyone. No one hated her. She never made anyone upset. She was… she was wonderful. And deep down, She knew that. She didn’t see the clouds. She didn’t hate herself. She was happy, She made others happy. I liked her. I liked me.

What happened to her?

Once, in a garden where laughter reigned, Children played, and joy remained, The air was sweet with endless bloom, A world untouched by shadow or gloom.

Time, a thief, in stealth did tread, Among the flowers, their petals shed, The vibrant greens turned to russet and gold, Stories of love, now left untold.

The winds of change, they whispered low, Through branches bare, where crows now crow, A chill set in, the warmth withdrew, And the garden's heart knew winter's cue.

Seasons turned, and time did wear, The vibrant hues to shades more bare, Laughter faded into silent echoes, As life's relentless tempos rose.

Walls grew around the sacred space, Guarding memories time can't erase, And within the fortress I had known, Where there once was softness, now all had turned to stone.

During the days where softness was the norm all without form from the love that were shown. Softness toughened the tolerance for mistakes in a world full of snakes. Soon after the being that anchored the ground in the softened atmosphere departed with their softened heart; all that was left was hearts turned to stone due to a volatile home where love seemed to have once been shown is now gone and has left everyone alone.

“My Queen,” something whispers from the shadows, bowing down at her feet. The woman on the throne lights the blue flame with the tip of her finger, it brings out her malnourished, hollowed cheeks, her long lashes brush her skin as she closes her eyes and rubs her throbbing temples.

“There’s been a disturbance,” the servant whispers, keeping his head down to avoid eye contact. “We found Gourdoni hiding in the tunnels, your highness.”

Her eyes open, a warning to anyone with enough sense to see the seething evil from the multi-colored irises. “Gather all my realms people. Sit them in the court. I will have the Shadow Guard gather the useless rebels. And I will bring the common knowledge they lack.”

“I don’t think—“ the shadows hiss around her as she leans forward, cutting the small man’s sentence off, her eyes linger over him, bloodshot and tired. Slowly, she shifts and pulls on a grin.

“Do as I say,” she whispers into his ear like poison. “Do as I say or,” she stops to chuckle, “or you die. Understood?” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, he manages a meek nod and almost trips over his own feet as he scurries from the room like a small mouse.

She follows him out like her shadows follow her, close and taunting, whispering into his ear. He shakes and shivers against her breath. She grins, sharpened teeth out. She thinks about the flavor of his flesh, the scent of his sweet, sticky blood. She knows he knows.

•••

Entering the court, the room opens up wide, like a beast before it swallows a meal whole. The walls are spotted with brown blood, and red handprints. A torture chamber at best. She breathes in the scent, her shattering smirk stretches wide, consuming the happiness in the room. The people gasp, shrinking and murmuring, only falling silent as she passes.

On the far wall, surrounded by the Shadow Knights and Shadow Guard, is Gourdoni, the most feared assassin alive. He shakes in his spot, cowering from his fate as the Queen enters the room, fearless and confident. “We are gathered here today, for the execution of our beloved Gourdini,” Shadow Queen smiles at her use of horrifying sarcasm. The room buckles under her gaze. “Anyone against it? Speak now.” Her smile tightens, no one dare breathe nor move in the unsettling silence that follows it.

“Have mercy,” Gourdoni begs, falling to his knees as the blade is raised above his head. Shadow Queen pushes his head forward on the slab with her knee, biting his ear gently as she leans, “Would you rather me tear you apart? Piece. By. Piece, mmm?”

“No, no,” he sobs like a man baby, his cheeks shake with the crocodile sized tears.

“Good, good,” she steps back, raising the blade above her head. The sword glistens in the light, brought to life by tears of the frightened crowd. “It won’t hurt a bit,” she swings the blade once. He screams. She swings again. Thrice more and he’s silent.

The bloody pulp of his head lays dismembered on the stone slab. The Queen smiles down at her work, remembering the crush and crunch of his skull. “Now, I’ll excuse myself,” the steps on his limp wrist as she goes, her sharp heel punctures his skin.

•••

This time her feet 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘥 down the hallway. She changed her outfit, switching out her torn suit for her black leather shorts, a black T-shirt and the same cloak as before. The knife stayed strapped onto her thigh. She pinned her golden brown hair up with her twin Black Bladed Brothers, her signature weapon in troubling times, or… in the minor disagreements her universe holds from time to time. Her boots keep a constant bass beat on the stone, echoing down the hallway. The click of the silver spurs is heart hammering as she makes her way to the Dome Cells.

“I tried jumping to you,” he says as soon as the Queen’s face appears on the outside of the cell walls. “Seems you were prepared for others like you,” he motions around to the dome shaped bubble he’s in.

The Queen crosses her arms. “It’s Silent Stone. Keeps your unwanted gifts silent. Too much will kill you. Could slow your breathing patterns or kill you all together,” she stops talking and points to a servant. The servant brings a platter of food and slides it under the slit in the stone door.

“You haven’t a heart. Why feed me?” “Only because I wish you to choke.” He laughs, “How charming.”

The Queen’s eyes meet his for a split second and she jerks away, not frightened, but surprised to find him staring at her without blinking. He shifts the too-red apple in his hands, tossing it into the air and catching it with a ruffed palms. He tried to escape, she knows this, because the wounds are blue blooded, not red. Sadly, it’s the only color in the room besides his glowing blue eyes and the apple. He’s been clothed in white, surrounded by white stone and floor.

“What was your proposal?” The Queen paces, putting herself in full view. He stares awhile.

Licking his lips, he replies, “We could be a team; you and I. We could rule this side together, Shadow Queen and her king.”

“How 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 of a thought you’ve dropped upon my lap,” she cackles. “Nearly as poor in judgement as the ones I’ve beheaded. Decapitated.”

“You mean the ones that have gone against you? Striking fear into your heart? Causing you to kill them before they have a chance to defend themselves? That’s why I’m here, correct?” He chuckles alongside her.

She stops suddenly, her smile fading. “What did you just say?” She steps forward.

“I mean, all these people clearly hate you. You’re such a bad queen, afterall. I don’t blame them for disliking you,” the boy leans into the glass and lowers his voice. “Right? You’re such a horrid queen, because you’ve a bad history. It twisted you, something within you… snapped. Allowing whatever— whoever— to enter your soul. Taking over your body.”

She chuckles darkly, her mis-matched eyes darken as if a shadow passed through them. “Guards,” she calls, turning her head to the side slightly, her eyes never leave the boy. “Add more Silent Stone into his 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘣, will you?” Something flickers in his eyes at her words, but she continues, “Because no one. No one. Talks to their Queen like that. Or they carry the punishment.”

The shadows rush forward, snatching up a few servants nearby. They order the servants to pick up the Silent Stone, since it has no effect on them. Slowly, they drop them into the cage. The boy falls to his knees, but his signature calm smile remains, even though the vein in his neck gives away his anger and frustration.

“Oh,” he laughs bitterly. “I’m going to have a terrific time tearing you apart limb by limb, my love.”

(15 likes to continue!)

You might as well Be Medusa since Every time our Eyes lock, I turn to Stone As I lose myself In your gaze.

Mercilessly, blood dripped from the Queen’s parted lips. She sat on her throne of bones and decomposing flesh, her long, black fingernails were steadily tapping on the elbow of a rotting corpse that was posing as her armrest. She sharpened her teeth and ran a pink tongue around the crimson blood staining her lips like cherry lipstick.

One eye emerald green, the other icy blue. She grinned and stood as her throne room’s doors banged open, her welcoming mask folded over her face— not that it was much use with all the blood stains and blackened horns she’d worn like a warriors paint since the robbery. The crew’s leftover bodies lay scattered around her like unwanted trash beside the highway. She tried to keep her eyes on the hired assassin, the scariest man alive, as he entered slowly, his boots crunching on and crushing the necks of the dead.

“Shadow Queen,” he bowed. She smiled and sunk into her throne, her gown was ripped at mid-thigh to make it shorter, but her cloak hung lower. “Yes? I believe you have astounding news for me, Gourdoni. I hired the best trackers, afterall.”

Shaking, he stood from his stooping bow. “We were not able to catch the thief, my apologies, my Queen.” He looked pointedly at the dusty black glass case sitting in the darkest corner, protected by a thorn fence, highly venomous to humans. Shadow Knights and other Underworld monsters also hover around it. “We lost the thief in the underground tunnels. Whoever he is, he knows the place unlike the others we encountered, we believe he’s from the lower villages, he was headed that way— south.”

The Queen stands up quickly, knocking over a dancing blue flame on a standing torch. The shadows hiss, clawing out for Gourdoni. They take him by the throat and lift him five feet into the air, using the Queen’s anger as feed. His legs twitch and spasm while the shadows reach for his jugular vein, slowly penetrating his smooth baby-like skin.

The Shadow Queen of her realm orders the Shadow Knights to release him. They do and Gourdoni falls to the stone floors, spitting blood, coughing and fighting to catch his breath. The Queen smiles at the fear blossoming in the most scariest assassin alive. She floats forward, her upper thigh exposed, the strapped blade glistens against her black cloak. She lifts her dark staff, swirling with bloody crimson and ashy fog, pushing Gourdoni’s face up. Blood trickles down his chin, she leans forward at the sight. Her thin— but surprisingly strong— hand grabs him, touching the warm blood lightly as it rolls down his ghostly white face.

“You are to get my stolen heart and its thief,” her eyes bore into his red eyes, the eyes of a demon, her staff lay at her side, one hand on her stained blade, the other cupping his weak chin where fangs peak below his upper lip. “That’s an order,” she says sharply, “and I will not repeat it. Get my residents and servants into the arena stands. I believe I have a message.”

She releases him and he scrambles to his feet, manages a small bow, and hurries out of the room and down the corridor. The Queen grabs her suit, blood staining her palms, a staving look settled within her darkening mis-matched eyes. She pulls on a wolfish grin like a light. A selfish, painful grin. Throwing a glance at her empty glass case, where her stony heart once was sealed, now stands empty, the glass shattered and sparkling on the sticky floors.

Her heels click down the hallway, eyes flitting. The shadows trail her like a fog, wrapping around her waist and following her. The black mist never slackened, only darkened with her fire-like anger. She used her abilities the close the curtains where biting sunlight snuck through. The shadows chuckled at the snuffed out light, as if to bully it’s failed attempts, they began whispering to the Queen. She nodded and used her hands to wave them off.

Entering the arena, her peasants and servants stared in awe and a mixture of fear bound with praise, their ruling queen rarely showed her face, never walked out into crowds. But this time, there was a certain hardness in her face, nearly pain. The crowd gasped when she waved a pale hand, all the doors slammed shut, their locks clicking at once.

“I have a bit of news,” the Queen’s voice was like metal on metal, like a car crash in the arena. She simply crossed her hands. Gourdoni shrank back against the wall, the shadows mocked him and laughed at his fear. The Queen’s demonic presence was almost overwhelming, like too much expensive perfume mingling in a small room.

“My heart has been stolen,” the Queen continued. “I have a reason to believe the thief lives in my outlying village,” she pauses, turning to a strange sensation from her left. A pair of milky, hazel eyes stare back, standing out against the crowd even though the boy is sitting, reclined. Rather relaxed for the occasion he’s been called into. “That means,” she scans the crowd of her people, “the thief is in this room.”

On her order, a simple flick of the hand, the shadows dart from the corners of the huge stone room, the black and silver diamond chandelier shimmies as they dart past, searching the crowd, smelling and sensing, reaching deep for the thief that cowers.

“You knew better than to go into my throne room,” she roars to the crowd, slamming her staff down. The ground shakes, the chandelier calls out again, rocking violently, twinkling against the pressure in the room. “And now,” she walks to her throne on the inside balcony calmly, climbing the winding wire staircase and sitting atop the plush seat at its peak. “And now you’ll pay.”

She caught the reclined boy watching her again, his amazingly calm eyes nearly smiled up at her. She stared back, cold and hard, deep as a river. “Find him,” she whispers to the invisible Shadow Shifter at her shoulder; it’s her most feared creation. It shrieks, vibrating through the room. The crowd instantly throws their heads down, shielding them with their hands, screaming into their laps, their eardrums burst, bleeding. The Queen stands on her platform.

“Thief,” she roars, “step forward or I rip your family apart to find you. Your people, your friends.” When she sees no one step forward, she grins her widest grin, stretching from ear to ear. “Children first. Limb by limb,” she growls to the Shadow Shifter. The beast suddenly makes itself visible to the crowd, shaping into a ten foot tall monster, sauntering into the arena while the children are plucked from their mother’s sides, crying and kicking, by the arms of the Shadow Knights. They chuckle with their new game.

A mother screams, darting for her child only to be caught by a blade protruding from her chest. It happens so fast, the crowd doesn’t see it until she crumples to the pit’s saw chipped floors, crimson blossoming like a rose on her chest. She doesn’t twitch, but her five year old baby toddles over to the corpse, patting her shoulder and calling her name.

“You monster!” Someone screams from the crowd. The Queen straightens her crown, twisted with black thorns, and dripping with human blood, resembling a crooked halo at best. At worst, it resembles the feared queen she is known for being.

She smiles, licking her bloodied fingers while the children wail as they’re dissected, piece by piece, limb by limb. “Oh, honey,” she chuckles, shaking her head as she bounds down the stairs, ascending the stands, stopping at the woman and lifts her chin. “You’ve seen nothing yet, my darling,” the Queen says calmly, snapping the woman’s neck with one hand, with one flick of her wrist. The woman spasms and gurgles. At this, someone stands straight up in the crowd.

The Queen twists to see who has come forward while the rest cower, shrinking away from the Queen’s bullying shadows. A boy, her grin widens impossibly. She holds out a delicate hand to her shadows. “Cease,” she orders. They stop mid-action, a blonde eleven year old girl is crying out to her father while her arm is snapped and pulled away from her being. The father is frozen in time, his eyes welled up, a single tear falls and trails like a train on a track, knowing its place. The Queen drops her hand from the air, “I believe we’ve found something.”

“I stole your stony heart,” the boy says calmly, dressed in sweat pants and a T-shirt. He shrugs, “What better way to get your attention, than to steal your heart?”

He falters, disappearing from the air. Seconds later, he reappears at the Queen’s side. He smiles solemnly, ruffling poofy hair, “I suppose we might need to talk about you and I, and the team we would make. Afterall, ‘a Queen is nothing without her King.’ You said so yourself.”

The shadows grab him as soon as they read the Queen’s thoughts. Humans flinch from the shadow’s flesh eating touch, but the boy stays just as calm. “Put him in a dome cell,” says the Queen. “I’ll deal with this thief later, I suppose.” She turns to her crowd. “Clean up your loved ones or I’ll bring them to my den, where they’ll be used as scraps to feed the…“ she pauses, smiling, “the 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴.”

“I could jump from this spot to your side again. But I suppose that wouldn’t be becoming of I.” The boy is being floated away in the air, calmness still etched into his features. “Where there once was softness,” he nearly whispers, yet it still catches the Queen’s ear, “now had all turned to stone,” he smiles sadly, but still meaningfully. The Queen knows those words all too well…

»——> To be 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕖𝕕...? <——«

The pebbles in my pockets turned to boulders As I watched tree trunks freeze in time When did my castle of broken dreams Harden into stone?

I didn’t want to stay here In this lonely fortress on the hill But now that I embraced this empty There is only alone

They way it hurts- God, I love the pain.

Dripping blades and wounds. How crimson looks on stainless steel. Black handled blades of sorrow…

I swore I’d never fall again. Not after that first time high. Lows fill deeper, blood overruns.

Loved how you held me close. Whispered in my ear, kissed my neck. Told me it would be okay, yeah? And hell, I believed the bullshit.

A heart was opened to a beast. Thought you’d change, you’d love. A fool was what I was, wasted time.

Heartbreak feels so fucking good. As long as it’s by your hand, darlin’.

I hope you’re happy, see my smile? Touch me more, break every fucking bone.

Cut me open, break me again, please. Stay with me and hurt me.

‘Cause heartbreak feels so good with you…

“Where once was softness, now had all turned to stone.” If there ever was a better line to describe you- I’d be damned.