Birth of a Queen

She stood next to the man she had loved for over three decades, blood dripping off of her into a puddle on the floor. He had popped like a soap bubble. The acuity of the situation was obvious but she still didn’t want to believe. Her husband, her life, was dead. The pain was too much to bare.

She stumbled around the room in a daze, pushing servants out of her way. The Queen wandered into the dresser. She saw herself in the mirror. The figure behind her grinned.

She released a deep, throaty scream. The scream of a banshee.