“Are you devastated? Are you?” Nash enquired for the millionth time. Gawd -.-
Sure, he didn’t know that I was the one who had sent Malcolm falling after Nina, but really. How devastated would I be if an acquaintance of mine just happened to be stupid enough to die with a woman like Nina? I know Nash meant well and blah, but God, was he stupid!
Maybe that’s why he died. God decided that there was enough stupid on earth without Nash Martin and decided to start the cleansing process. I was his little puppet for the process, too (for God, I guess I could do it :P). Thanks for letting me do the good deed, big guy!
“I am quite alright, cousin Nash”, I sighed for the millionth time. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I am quite surprised, yes, that a woman of today’s society is capable of such affectation of sentiment. But I am not devastated. I can keep my calm, thank you very much.”
“Oh, cousin Zxy...you were always so brave”, Nash said, almost in tears, and THIS close to hugging me (where THIS=width of the nostrils of popular fictional villain, Lord Voldemort. If Voldy were for real, he and I would be good together. We could both be immortal, we both look amazing, and we both have an indescribable passion for the act of blood. And he would be perfect also because he doesn’t want anything serious and neither do I. We both have carnal needs and we’re both good at fulfilling them, we’re made for each other!).
“I was, wasn’t I?” I said and moved away, hoping he wasn’t really craving for the human touch of consolation. I do loathe hugs when they aren’t from my many lovers.

With much effort, he managed to regain whatever lousy, floopy state of being he called “calm” and said, “he was my best friend, Zxy. I never thought I would lose him.”

See, now I felt bad for the guy.

But a minute later, he started crying again, so I couldn’t be bothered. God. Be a man. If you think someone has hurt you, hurt them back. Don’t just stand there, crying like a moron. Society needs these reforms, really. People need to catch up with their original roles. Men should be men and women should be me. That is the only thing that can save society from murdering itself before I do it for society.

So, Nash did calm down after a bit and I decided to leave Paris. I was bored, I had had my fun.
I decided to leave Paris and head to wherever life would take me. Or wherever the train was cheapest for, because I kind of had to start living off the edge. Ugh.

The next day, as I sat planning my journey, Nash walked in with the most sober expression.


“Zxy”, he started, “I hope you’re well.”
“It is you who should answer the question, cousin Nash”, I stood up. “Are you quite well after the...incident?”
“I am not sure how to take it, Zxy...I am deeply hurt.”
“I am aware, Nash”, I nodded knowingly, hoping he would receive comfort at that. I’m a nice person, I can hope for such things!
“I am so glad that you’re here for me”, he said with a watery smile.

“I just can’t imagine what mental demon must have possessed Nina!” he continued.
“It is the demon of Beelzebub...probably”, I consoled him.
“No, Beelzebub is in charge of something else”, he sniffed. “Gluttony or something."
Douche. Correcting me? ME? -.-
“That hardly matters now, does it?” I said and pursed my lips. “What is important is that she is dead and so is the demon within her. None can conquer that. Imagine a world without her mentally deranged existence!”
“Zxy! Do not speak ill of the dead!”
“Oh, of course, I seem to forget that when the ill die.”
“Zxy! Do not speak ill of the dead!”
“Surely, you cannot be serious about this? Did you honestly think that Nina Jordan was worth all the affection you lavish upon her?”
“Zxy! Do not-
“I swear to Beelzebub, Nash, if you repeat that awful sentence again, I will make sure that Nina’s fate hits you like a bolt of fire!”
That worked.
Thank God for that.
I couldn’t take anymore of his evil talk about not speaking ill of people ill.

“Now...all this talk about death has made me thirsty. Would you care for some wine?”
“I suppose I could have some” he said, and stood up to pour us both a glass of wine.

“Zxy...do tell me the truth. What exactly happened up there?”
“Up where, cousin?” Yes, I did resume my good-girl mask again when he went there. Sue me.
I wasn’t nervous, though. He can always die if he does know the truth. And I knew his time was fast approaching. I could feel it in the air, the lingering doom of departure from the world. We all know I live for quite some time (I’m alive right now, aren’t I?), so it had to be the Martin boy.

“Don’t play games with me, Zxy”, he said, “I know you know what I’m talking about. What happened up there with Malcolm and Nina?”
“Nothing significant. Apart from their deaths, of course. May they rest in peace”, I added before he could start getting all moral on me.
“Is that it? How did they...you know?” he said, stifling a cry, unable to gather the courage to say “die”.
“I told you all there is to tell, Nash. Nina was enraged that Malcolm dared to give his heart away to someone other than her and she said that she couldn’t bear the thought of having him love another woman. So she jumped off the railing and Malcolm...oh, Malcolm, the brave fellow that he was, tried to save her and...died doing a moral deed.”
The way I put it, it sounded like a heroic scene. It really wasn’t, trust me. I merely pushed him off the railing.
All was well.
“I hope you’re right, Zxy”, he said. “For your sake, I do.”
“Whatever do you mean, cousin?”
Yep, his time was fast approaching.
"I happened to stumble upon Nina’s diary-
“Wait, are you saying you read her diary?”
“I did, yes, but you’re missing the point-
“What is the matter with people invading other people’s privacy? You. sir, have lost the honour of a gentleman, reading words that were never addressed to you!”
“I beg your pardon, Zxy, I did not know that mattered to you?”
“It does matter to me, a great deal!”
“I am sorry for that, but you miss my point.”
“Pray, WHAT is this mighty point you speak of?”
“Nina said that she didn’t care enough for Malcolm to die.”
“And...?”
“And that proves that Nina did not die for Malcolm. Did you have anything to do with...anything?”
“What are you implying, Nash?”
“That you may have unintentionally caused the death of my best friend and his stalker.”
“How is that a perceivable loss to humanity?”
“Zxy! Do not speak ill of the dead!”

I could have slit his throat right there, but I waited for the right moment. No, I knew that his death was imminent on that very evening, in that room and at the hands of the most provocative being to ever walk this earth. -.-

“Nash...what you must understand...is that one must not speak ill of the good people who die. Speaking ill of the people ill is perfectly understandable. In fact, it is greatly encouraged by me.”
“You are wrong, Zxy. And you are wrong about the events of the fateful day, too. Nina’s last entry was made thirty minutes prior to the murder-
“Murder?”
“Yes, it was a murder. You murdered them both.”
“Oh, bless us and save us! That is some very serious accusation! What evidence have you to say something so ill-borne?”
“Nina’s final entry stated that she was going to kill you and if she were unsuccessful, she wouldn’t kill herself because Malcolm didn’t deserve it. She clearly couldn’t kill you, which meant that something must have happened for her to die.”
“Are you completely ruling out the possibility of having fallen off from the third flight? We are quite high up here”, I added.
It was true, we were.
“You killed them, Zxy! Accept it!”

Oh, well.

“Yes, I did”, I said. “And I am not afraid to accept it. I killed Malcolm and Nina.”

Nash was horrified.
What a load of drama, God. He knew I had killed him, why would he put up the act?

“Zxy, I’m afraid I don’t have much choice, except to report you to the authorities.”
“Oh, but you do”, I said, moving slowly towards the liquor cabinet. There is glass in the liquor cabinet.
I am evil, aren’t I?

“Think about it, Nash. If you report me to the authorities, society will never hear the end of it. You will lose all your reputation and I will probably plan an escape route. You’re going to lose.”
“Then what do you propose we do? You are guilty.”
“I say, we let it go. I am guilty, but I don’t feel guilty. You are sad, deal with it. I will leave Paris tomorrow. And no one need ever know that I murdered the git and his stalker.”

Just then, there was the sound of a creaking door and upon turning, I discovered Swinea Birdlust.
Okay, so two people die today.

She got into the expected rant-How could you, Zxy? Murder? It’s so wrong and blah blah blah.
People are so monotonous.

While they were bitching about me, I moved towards the liquor cabinet and found the perfect piece of glass to do the trick.
It was the loss of perfectly good wine, but it had to be done. I had to hit them both in the head with the bottles of wine.
There was blood everywhere. It wasn’t exactly pretty, but God, it was beautiful! :P
They were silent, too, for the most part. Except for when Nash looked at me and realised that he was dying.
He should’ve been happy, really, reunited with his best friend. Not many people get the chance to do that. I’d like to reunite with my best friend, but my best friend is me :P


No one saw me, but I couldn’t linger anywhere near his home. So I packed up a few essentials and followed my escape route to the train station.

Nothing allures me more than the scent of a man. The scent of his perfume, how he makes it his own, how good it smells when you're embracing him, how good it smells mixed with the metallic scent of blood when you kill him. Really, I don't know how people survived without perfume in the olden days.

A man wearing his perfume well, confident in his skin is the sexiest thing alive. Couple that with the arrogance, intelligence, charm, and build of an Army man, and you have a winner. It would be hard for me to resist any of these qualities, but Gunther was displaying all of them. That made ME go a little weak in the knees. No, he wasn't the love of my life...the love of my life had other qualities...irresistible as well, but that is a tale for another day.

Today I go back to the General. The sexy General with whom I spent one of the most passionate nights of my life. The General who provided me with the best hunt. He was a tricky one to kill, he was. I was in a different city, in an isolated house, I wasn't very good with the language and my prey looked so very good! That couldn't stop me, though. Death is inevitable when you're with Zxy.

It was funny in the beginning, really. When he told me what he did. Alas, the humor faded, but the murderous intent didn't.

But let's begin at the beginning, shall we?

We were standing in the botanical garden, admiring the plants, when he kissed me. It was...sparksy.

I could feel the little hairs on my neck stand up. And dance. And squeal with joy.

I absolutely loved how intensely he was kissing me, like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do, like he wouldn't rather be doing anything else. And who can blame him? I'm Zxy, after all. Even Beelzebub stops what he's doing when it comes to me. Sweet kid, that one.

Anyhoo, here we were, nicely kissing, when he reached down to my waist, and with a swift cat-like movement, lifted me in his arms. Then he carried me all the way into the house, up the stairs and into the main bedroom. And what a bedroom! It was gorgeous. Perfect. Thick drapes so no one could peep in, a thick, soft as butter carpet, an ornate four poster bed with silk sheets...oh,I could go on and on. But I won't. Because today's audience just doesn't appreciate this stuff, I'm afraid. You will appreciate what happened next though.

I knew that Gerald was fierce, but just how much, I was about to find out. We fooled around a bit, undressing each other, kissing each other pretty much everywhere. It was goo-ood.

Once we were both in our knickers, he literally threw me on the bed and the fooling around continued. And then. Oh, yeah. Then came the best part. It was a good things those walls were thick, or our screams could have brought the house down. And not just once. All through the night.

That was a good night. I often go back to that night. Sometimes, it even makes me shed a tear. Makes me wish I'd kept some memory of that night. Something long and thick just like...okay now I'm blushing.

The night couldn't have been any shorter though. General Gunther sure knew how to pleasure a woman. I finally understood why they called him a man whore, and why the women spoke more fondly of him than he did of them. That worried me a little, then I remembered that I'm Zxy. I'm the best. And that it's still an understatement.

Anyway, morning came way sooner than I'd expected, and the General was asleep. I lay in his arms, enjoying the cool breeze coming in from one of the drapes he'd opened. I was thinking about the past, planning for the future, just wallowing in the man's scent when I heard a knock on the door. The General woke up with a start. He put on a robe and went around to the door.

'Who is it? I thought I made it clear I was not to be disturbed.'

This puzzled me a little, for I hadn't seen a single soul in the house except us. Maybe his servants were ordered to stay hidden until told to show themselves.

'Disturbed? What are you possibly doing in there that *i* could disturb you?'
A woman's voice. She sounded like a vixen. Over confident and extremely stupid. I hoped Gunther wouldn't open the door to this horrid sounding, pompous woman. Turns out, he didn't have to. She pushed ajar the door with a huge smile which disappeared abruptly when she saw me.

"Gerald. What is the meaning of all this?who is this...tramp? And what's she doing in our bed? Have you been fooling around again?"

"Look, Olly, I can explain!"

Olly? What sort of a dumbass name is Olly anyway? And why was this woman being such a bitch? If she wasn't careful, I could kill her.

"Don't you 'look Olly, I can explain' you me! I'm Olivia Rasputin, not some idiot you can convince of your innocence. That's it. I'm calling Father right now!!"

"No, Olly...Olivia, don't do this to me! It was a mistake! She means nothing to me! It was a moment of pure heat...nothing else...."

And with that, one of the best sexual partners I'd had in some time trailed off after a woman named Olly. Life is just not fair to me, I tell you.

I did what anyone in such a situation would do. I panicked and ran out the huge French windows.

Haha, just kidding, I followed them. I quickly laced up my gown, powdered myself down a little ( because I must look pretty at all times. :P), and set off in search for the Man and the Bitch.

I found them a few minutes later arguing heavily in the kitchen. It seemed a good idea to not intrude immediately, to wait for a few minutes before going in and well...killing one of them.

It turned out that our man Gerald was married to this pompous witch. She had gone away to her mother's house for a few nights to settle a few issues, and he had gone and done this to her. It wasn't the first time, apparently, and she kept reminding him of this fact. She mentioned the now infamous Swinea Birdlust a few times as well. Nothing too vulgar though.

Call me a prude, but I think cheating on your spouse is a bad idea. I'd kill my husband if he ever cheated on me. As I was thinking this, another idea struck me....it would be like public service...no one would ever mind when they came to know he was a lying cheating scumbag....no...

"Say, Miss, would you like me to kill your husband?"

A collective "What?!" echoed around the big room. "No, you may not kill my husband! How dare you even ask such a question? And who are you anyway? You come in here and make love to MY husband in MY bed and then you have the nerve to ask me if you want him to die. Leave. This very instant! Or I WILL call the Guards on you!"

Now, now, now. Who has ever threatened Zxy and gotten away with it? No one, I tell you, that's who. I was being nice to this horrid woman, and she was trying to order Zxy around. This is exactly the kind of situation which calls for blood. No can boss Zxy around and think she would actually listen. Our man Gunther was in shock, by the way. He was rooted to the spot, looking from his wife to me at regular intervals. He probably thought I was crazy. Oh, what did he know! But he looked so darned adorable, with his mouth hanging wide open, that I decided to give it one more shot.

"Look. I didn't know he was married, and believe me, I don't believe in extramarital affairs, however meaningless they may be. Now, I see this man at fault. If he was my husband, I would have killed him. But looking at your puny stature, I doubt you could pull off something of this kind. So,I ask you again, do you want me to kill your husband? I could hide the body, and no one need find out. Im very good at this stuff...kind of like a little hobby I'm currently pursuing."

Now, most women, when offered something as splendid as that, would jump at the shot. But this one was trying to get all feisty on me. She screamed. For guards. Now, I don't mean to be rude here, but really, I was a guest in her shabby little house with its stupid botanical garden, and she was setting her guards on me. Who does that in this day and age?

I was feeling sorry for her earlier, but now that turned into anger. I looked around the kitchen, found a pot of powdered pepper (quite a new invention for that time), and threw it in her eyes. And when Gunther shrieked in protest, some in his eyes too. It was a quite a hilarious sight, actually, husband and wife flailing about as turtles out of water. I decided to take care of 'Olly' first, since she was just so bloody shrill, and went on to strangle her to death. Such an awesome moment! You should have seen the smile on my face. And the colors on hers. There really is something to be said about watching someone's face go from pink to purple to blue to colorless, all in the span of a few seconds, JUST because they can't breathe. Makes us grateful for all the air around, eh?

Gunther was being annoying, though. I didn't want to kill him yet, but he just wouldn't stop clawing at me. So I stuffed a huge onion in his mouth, and pushed his hands behind his back and led him back to his bedroom. I left him there for the time being and went down and disposed off the puny bitch's body. Nothing a little fireplace can't solve. She was obviously lying through her teeth about the guards, because none ever showed up, or I'd have had a little trouble with the next plan of the plan.

I returned to Gunther's bedroom just in time to see him trying to escape from the window. I swear a smile crossed my lips.

"Now, now, what's the hurry? If I truly wanted to kill you, I would have done so back in the kitchen itself, honey."

"Uh...uh...I know what you are. I know you like murdering people. You've just killed five people in England and you're on the run. Please...let me go. I won't let anyone know about this. I will keep your secret. I've kept government secrets. Your secrets are nothing, really. I should go."

"Lies! Libel! Scandal! Blasphemy! Outrage! How do you know all that? No one should know about that!!"

"I...uh...ummm...uh...well..."

I sat on the bed and crossed my fingers impatiently. "Get on with it, now. We don't have all day. How the bloody 'ell do you know my deepest darkest secrets? Sure, I'm proud of them, but you have no way of knowing that." my right eyebrow was raised so high, I was afraid it would go and join my hairline.

"Now...I don't think I can tell you how I know. It's not a very pleasant story. And it was a mistake. I'm not a big deal, really! It was the reason I was attracted to you in the first place! When I saw that you were a woman of such talents, it made me want you...but don't be so childish now...let me go!"

"Enough! Tell me how You know, or else..."

The 'or else' hanging in the air may have done the trick.

He told me the most disgusting thing I'd ever heard. It made my blood boil, my fists clench and my hair stand on end again, but not for a nice reason this time.

"I...uh...I read your diary."

Those four words were the reason that man died, really.

"Come again. I thought I heard what you said as 'I read your diary'. That can't possibly be right, now can it?" I said with a tight smile.

"It's true. It happened on the train. You were clutching it when you wee asleep, and when it fell, a page fluttered open. I happened to read a little of what it said. I was intrigued, and I thought it was a joke, but when you talked about the Grand Ball and Swinea, I knew something was wrong. My hat was right next to your diary, so in your sleep, you picked that up instead. I was impressed by you, and so attracted. Thats why I had to attend the Grand Ball. For a chance to meet you again..."

By the end of that little speech, his voice had become extremely soft, and animated. He even sounded a little cocky, to be honest.

"I do not appreciate this."

"Look, I've told you the truth. What's done is done. Can't we get past this? Last night was one of the best I've ever had, and I'd like my alliance with you to go on for some time to come...."

The cocky tone and the words 'ONE OF THE BEST' kind of put me off a little. Who even says that? Zxy Hemendip is the best, period.anything less than that is an insult, really.

"Aw honey, aw sweety, it's alright. So you read my diary. Who cares? It's not that big a deal, really."

"Really? So we're good then?"

"Oh, no. What gave you that idea? People have died for measlier offenses, as you may have read IN MY DIARY!"

Gawd, people around here were STUPID. They read my diary, they boss me around and think I'd forgive them. Some people just underestimate me, I must say.

Killing him was a pity, I'll give you that. I almost felt bad, between the surges of anger.

Then again, spilling blood is therapeutic for me, so I felt much better once I was done. His murder was simple enough...knives, ropes and broken glass was involved. The broken glass was his fault, though, he just kept trying to escape. Silly Boy.

After a sweaty half an hour, and not for the right reasons, mind you, he was finally lying slain on the bed, his blood seeping through those beautiful sheets. He STILL smelt sexy as ever, I must give him that....England lost a soldier that day, I, brilliant love making. And his bitch of a wife.

Oh, well.

----------

Nash Martin was a good man, but he had one tiny fault. He loved Balls. And he loved taking people to Balls. And for some God damn reason, he absolutely beamed at the prospect of taking ME to Balls. I don't quite blame him though, I AM pretty awesome.

This annoying quality of his was going to be the death of him someday.

Not right then, for then I was...distracted by another presence. He came in the form of a prancing fellow, Malcolm Blumenthal. He seemed nice enough at first, but turned out to be quite a Man Bitch.

I blame Nashy-Boy for all the blood spilled that night, really.

I'd just come back to his house after the Gunther fiasco, and I was looking forward to soaking in a tub of hot water for a few hours before departing quietly, when Nash told me to join him at the Promenade Ball that night. TOLD me. Like just because I was his sister I should agree.

I should have killed him right then. Woulda saved three lives. At the cost of his, but that's hardly the point now, is it?

Anyway, being the magnanimous sister, I agreed to go with him. It was a social event, and he didn't want to be seen with just a hired escort in tow (Our lovely Swinea Birdlust). He did have to bribe me with the promise of a new dress though. Good enough for one night of dalliances, I suppose.

As it turned out, this was a Ball like no other. Even though it's name didn't hint so, this particular Ball was THE event on the social calendar. Especially if you were young and fabulous. The Grand Ball was filled with old fogeys in comparison.

As soon as we entered, I saw a man prancing towards us. And then I saw cousin Nash give a huge smile. And not one I fully considered heterosexual. Hmmm...interesting. I wasn't the only one keeping secrets.

He introduced me to his 'friend', who turned out to be our latest victim, Malcolm Blumenthal. He was...wait for it...a designer. Explained a bit about the prancing. And the looking me up and down and smiling approvingly at my choice of outfit. Till I was told (in a side whisper) that he was as straight as a dog's tail is curved. He had a new woman in his life every few months, and rumor had it that he had finally decided to settle down. This Ball was to be his screening ground of sorts for potential wives.

They were talking about Nash making a toast, while Ms. Birdlust was telling me about Blumenthal's stalker, of sorts, Nina Johnson. She was crazily in love with him, I'd heard, and would do anything to get her hands on him. Unfortunately, Blumenthal couldn't be bothered to return her affection, or this story might have had a happy ending.

"Should I do it or not, Malcolm?! I need to make my presence felt in this place!"

"Then make a toast...Don't make a toast!"

"What? Make up your mind!! Why should I not make a toast?"

"Look, if it were me, I wouldn't make a toast. The people at Promenade are just not worth it. But the choice is yours, really."

"Fine. I won't do it. Okay, listen. I need you to take care of my cousin Zxy here for some time while I network a bit."

He turned to me, "Zxy, I need to go around for a while, and I'm taking Swinea with me. Malcolm here will take of you till then, alright? Now, don't do anything naughty while I'm gone."

To Malcolm he said as he left," she's a fiery one, this one. Handle with care." and then winked at him. Seriously. WINKED. This world was going to the dogs, I tell you.

"So, Ms Hemendip, I'm assuming this is your first Ball here in Paris?"

"No. I attended the Grand Ball recently. Quite an affair that turned out to be, really."

"Hmmm..I missed that one. I was away on business, you see. Hook Fashions is my life. It requires me to travel every so often, though....blah blah blah."

I looked around. The dance floor at this place was fantastic! The music was PERFECT. The French really could put on a great show. I couldn't wait to get on it and start swaying around. But for that, SOMEONE had to ask me for a dance first.

I decided to be straightforward. "Are you going to ask me for a dance or what?"

He put his hand to his face and gave a laugh. "Oh, I'm starting to bore you, aren't i? It's just that I'm not very fond of this music. I was in fact going to ask you to walk around with me for some time, till they start playing better music."

Uh. Huh. This man was aching for a beating, wasn't he? I thought I'd do it his way for some time, though.

"Okay. Lead the way."

We turned around. And bumped into a precociously dressed woman. She was frowning intently at me. Call me omniscient or a good listener, I realized in a jiffy who this personality was.

"Nina Johnson, how do you do?", I asked with a big smile on my face.

"Malcolm! Who is this woman? How does she know my name? Why are you with her?"

Before Blumenthal could launch into another monologue, I stopped him short.

" Ms Zxy Hemendip. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Your reputation precedes you, I'm afraid. And don't get all huffy about it, Malcolm is just showing me around. You have absolutely no reason to be jealous. Or whatever."

The two of them stared at me open-mouthed. I tugged at Malcolm's sleeve, and without another word, we set off.

After a few minutes, I asked him about Nina. "So what is the deal with the two of you? You lovers or summat?"

"Oh, no, no! I have no feelings for her, and I never gave her the idea that I might have. She has taken it upon herself to make me fall in love with her. If not by hook, then by crook. This one time, she literally crossed out another woman's name on a piece of paper, simply because it was written next to mine. Some sort of romantic gesture she supposed it to be. Oh, well."

"Wow, so she's a head case."

"In a way, yes. But I can't just tell her to bugger off. I did that once, and it made her face fall like someone had told her she was going to die. Since then I let her be. I do hope she'll find someone someday..."

"Oh, I'm sure she will. She seems like a normal enough person to me."

If he understood the sarcasm in my voice, he didn't express so. He mumbled a "Hmmm" and then continued talking.

"Say, would you like something to eat? I've been mighty rude haven't I?"

I wanted to say yes, just to annoy him, but I shook my head No. "It's okay. You still have time to better your mistakes. Can you get me some chocolate from the Bar, please?"

"Sure! Anything else, milady?"

"No, that much would work fine for now, thank you. Now off you go, fetch!"

I still don't know why I said those last five words. Maybe I'd already decided subconsciously that this man was a bitch.

He returned a few minutes later with some chocolate for me, a Lick-A-Joseph for himself and a note in his hand.

"I was at the Bar, and inspiration suddenly struck. I think it was you, Zxy."

Then he showed me the note.

It was the drawing of a woman in a dress with the words 'Dearest (Ms) Hemendip' at the top, and the words 'Teenage Dream' (it was a popular love ballad at the time.) at the bottom coupled with a huge heart and his name inside it.

I think I puked a little in my mouth.

"What is the meaning of all this? And I hate 'Teenage Dream'! It's a pathetic song!"

His face fell a little, and then he tried to explain. I didnt listen to a word. Instead, I bit into the chocolate he had brought me. It was bad, I tell you. It had little pieces of nuts inside. Must be some new fangled thing the French were trying. The French were awfully annoying sometimes, really. Of course, Blumenthal had to bear the brunt.

"Shut up. I don't want to listen to your jibber-jabber. I hate this chocolate. It has pieces of nuts in it!" With that, I threw it away and walked off.

Now, if it were any other man he would have been cross with me. But this man was made of different mettle, apparently. He pranced after me, took my arm, and in front of everyone, landed a wet one on me. I won't lie to you, it was good. I got into it too, but then I remembered Nash. I guess Blumenthal did too, and he stopped.

We broke away, embarrassed. His face was flushed, and I was sure mine was too. I've done many unspeakable things in my life, but this was a first. I had never been involved in public display of affections before. It was...exciting. It melted my heart a little. MINE. I know, right?

I looked at him questioningly, and he led me away, amidst (extremely loud -.-) whispers of "Mrs. Hook!" and stares.

"I'm sorry. I was out of line. It's just that...I like bitches. I find them tres desirable. And you seem to be so real, so amazing. I think I'm falling in love with you."

I suppressed the urge to laugh. Or vomit. But barely.

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a married woman with children. You can't love me!"

People in France (hopefully) hadn't found out about the unfortunate murders I'd committed before arriving in their country.

"I don't care. My feelings for you won't change. You can reject me, but I'll still love you."

To make matters worse, we were joined by Nash, who I guess must have heard about the slobbery incident.

"AHEM. Mr and Mrs Hook. May I interrupt you?"

I gave him a death stare. And then scrunched up my face in an expression of anger he well recognized from our childhood days. It wiped the smirk right off his face.

"Fine, don't give me that look now."

"Please leave us alone for a few minutes. We need to sort this thing out before it gets any more out of hand."

"Okay, okay...Mrs. Hook!"

And with that he ran off. Bitch. I was going to kill him. -.-

But first I had to deal with the smitten kitten in front of me. He was giving me this lost puppy-dog look, his eyes all rounded and his lips open in a smile. He looked quite cute then. Something about that look always floors me. I almost wanted to start kissing him again, but I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. He had no way of knowing I like to use and throw away men for purely physical purposes.

I told him to continue walking. We walked on in silence for some time. Then we reached a flight of stairs, and on an impulse, I started climbing it. He followed me, of course, still not daring to say another word. I kept on climbing till we reached what looked like a terrace garden of some sort. I stood in the middle of it and said, "Now, give me your explanation."

"Er, look. I don't think I have words to express how I feel about you. I love you barely covers it. Marry me. Please!"

"I told you I have a husband!"

"Leave him! I'll make you happier than he can ever make you."

Oh, that part WAS true. Dead men give no pleasure.

"Well..."

He looked at me with those puppy eyes again, and I melted even more....Paris was a nice city to stay in...so romant-

"You little wench. You come in here and try to steal my man. I'm going to make you pay."

Guess who had joined us up on the roof? Our favorite Ms Johnson, of course!
Gawd, I could NOT get a rest. -.-

"Why are you here? Who invited you here? Please leave. This instant."

"No. Nuh-uh. I'm not going till you say no to him. He has to end up with me. I'm willing to wait for him to come around, but I won't let him marry you. You don't deserve him."

*I* didn't deserve *HIM*? That was a first. I was Zxy. People didn't deserve ME, not the other way round. I deserved more than him, in fact.

I expressed those thoughts out loud. She didn't seem to take this very well. She took a swing at me.

Now, usually, good-natured that I am, I move back, and taaf people when they swing at me, and don't kill them. But this time, probably because of the exhaustion (mental and physical), I didn't. Her hand made contact with my face. Hard.

And I fell. Into Blumenthal's arms, but that's a different story.

Some men try to stop women from fighting, because they know it can get ugly. Some men like to watch. Malcolm belonged to the former group. He saw I was hurt, and he saw anger dawning on my face.

He tried to stop me, but I was in a rage. I lashed out towards Nina, and caught her smack in the eye. It started bleeding a little. Malcolm looked worried, but he still tried to restrain me. You'd think it would have worked, but he wasn't very strong. Then again, I AM stronger than most men.

We kept cat-fighting, with me advancing forward, Nina retreating, and Malcolm pulling me back. We reached the edge of the rooftop garden, and I decided to push Nina off. Malcolm, Smartie Pants that he was, read my mind, and tried to stop me. He was getting on my nerves now, really. Man Bitch. -.-

I pushed Nina hard, and she started falling back. Malcolm left me, and tried to grab her. I heard two simultaneous shrieks as I kicked Malcolm in the back, sending him sprawling over Nina, and then down three flights to the ground.

--------

They said that their necks were broken. It was presumed that Nina had become enraged over what had happened during the Ball. She'd confronted Malcolm, he'd told her the truth, she threatened to give her life if he didn't agree to marry her, and both had toppled to their deaths. It seemed probable because Nina had tried pulling off something like this in the past, but Malcolm had managed to talk her out of it. I wonder why.

All I was relieved about was that I wasn't being blamed for their deaths.

Nash, on the other hand, blamed himself. He felt that he shouldnt have brought me to this Ball. Or left me alone with Blumenthal. Oh, well. I would let him live in remorse for long anyway.

To put it in a simpler fashion, I wouldn't let him LIVE for long anyway.