Sometimes she stood there and watched people die; their threads of life fading away, their loved shedding bitter tears or standing there in stoical defiance not wanting to accept the reality. Or already having accepted it in the silence of their own minds.

It was difficult to explain, difficult to comprehend. The dire silence, the words unspoken. The moveless and moving faces; the aura of doom, of dread and the darkness. The bottomless void that came when a patient on the intensive care station succumbed to their unwelcome destiny, parting from the world of the living for that of the dead.Funerals, inheritances, conflicts, melancholy, reminiscence, revenge and many more of adjective she could add to this, wondering if it all was worth it.

Now that she was the one standing on that precipice, all she felt was emptiness. She wondered for a moment if there was more she should feel; her family had always been loving, caring in their own dissonant and strange ways. They were, all of them, criminals. Killers, thieves, murderers, scum of society that found its fun in harming others, broken souls and broken minds, shattered into pieces long ago by society. But it had all been her mistake that she was standing here now.

Others would commit suicide with the things they experienced, half of what all of them went through, but not her people, never her people, her family.

"Little Titania, you are the only one of us right in the head, become different, don't get swallowed by what broke us, all of us wish for you to live a life different, a life outside in the light not hidden in the shadows."

Those had been her mother's last words, a prostitute who worked her way up after the death of her first husband. A woman who married men stayed with them for years and then murdered them in cold blood; all for their money. Moving onto the next victim, falling in love, seducing, the same endless circle.

Titania and her siblings were the result of these actions, each one of them just as mad and broken as her mother, but they continued for survival. Titania's older brother sold his expertise as an assassin, her younger one as a thief. Her older sister kept herself a devout harem full of man she enjoyed herself with, spelled by magic and imprisoned like caged birds. It had always been Titania who knew but never spoke; hypocritically she thought she was innocent, but deep down she knew she was guilty by association. Though she never committed a single crime herself, sometimes, she even prevented the rest of her family from doing worse than they already did.

To her, they were always a nice family, her mother even said she should inherit the family, to which they all agreed. Her older brother spared her from bullying and helped her in school, Her younger brother joked with her, and snuck into kitchens so she could eat chocolate. Her sister helped doll her up for her first date, went into cinemas with her and was simply there for her when she needed something. Even her mother cared for her; helping her, aiding her in whatever she wanted to do, while at the same time trying so desperately to understand her. They all tried to understand her. They tried their best to understand why she simply viewed things as wrong, it was just that… they never could…not really.

"Sane. You are the only sane thing that I ever produced my little angel, the best thing, make sure your siblings will one day maybe gain a bit of your sanity or if anything keep them from being more broken than they already are, the reasons for why we are as we are might be difficult, but you have to remember no one is born a villain, you yourself decide to become one through your actions and I wish that you will always be a hero, sane, unlike us." That was what they called her, but now she doubted herself in her own sanity, as she felt utterly nothing at their death.

"Miss." She heard her butler's voice behind her and closed her eyes.

"Yes."

"The police..." He said, and she started laughing bitterly before turning around, the small tattoo on her back burning like fire. It seemed they did not even have the propriety to wait until after she had buried her family.

They killed her mother, her siblings, all the people that meant something to her, all she ever had, she treasured them even if she knew they were wrong, guilty and the lowest of the low.

Tarajan.

Tarajan, Tarajan, Tarajan, whenever something happened everything was put under that name. We couldn't solve a murder case, must have been the Tarajan responsible, we couldn't find the thief, must be a Tarajan and so on, so on.

Indeed, they were criminals, had blood on their hands and were far removed from angels But the Tarajan did still not even commit half of the crimes put on them, all hearsay, a convenient scapegoat, a simple fact that every one of them learned to live and work with. The infamous call of the Tarajan was an institution itself.

For once, she was even happy because of that.

Bastards.

"I won't run." She stated coldly, "I will handle it."

Brushing past him, she felt the butler Drake waiting for her, he was standing there in the shadows of the room as a solitary rock assigned to protect her. Her faithful servat, lackey and weapon, with his permanently gray steaks in perfectly arranged black hair and with his lanky tall figure.

He made the first expression of being just a worried uncle of moderately high position in a third rate business company. She knew he was a servant of the Tarajan, the insane part of the Tarajan No one knew why he was loyal to them, but he was; a snake waiting to strike and drive its venom into whoever dared to entertain the thought of laying a hand or finger on her.

She walked down the stairs, her heels clacking ominously through the stale air and silence on the barren, polished white hospital floor. Head held high with pure stubbornness, delicate silver earrings dangling from her ears, the clear green eyes facing ahead, the hallway seemingly endless with its white walls and overly bright artificial lights.

She was dressed in black; black pants, black blouse and black heeled shoes. Even her make up was black; black lips, black blush, and smokey eyes with obsidian accessories.

She was a mere fifteen but wore those heels to seem older, she despised being seen by these people as a weakling. A Child. She was a Tarajan, the Tarajan heir, the last of their infamous family right now and if she was to go under, to be walking into her own doom then she would do it as such, as a queen, elegant, poised, vicious, beautiful and cruel. Add to the family name, the legacy of insanity while carrying a regal air entirely of her very own brand. One who cared about justice, now that only ashes, emptiness, and Drake were all that was left.

Two males dressed in suits walked towards her, their hands on their weapons, Drake's relieving presence at her back she kept her spine straight as a rod.

"Miss, we need to arrest you.", one of them said cautiously eyeing Drake behind her, and she started laughing. Gods, she was fifteen, two heads smaller than them, and Drake did not look anything like a threat. They feared her for carrying the Tarajan name alone.

"Alright." She put her hands forward, "Arrest me."

Handcuffs clicked around her wrists as she kept her dignity and she smiled even more brilliantly than before; enforcing the already eerie feeling filling the two man in front of her felt. Their fear raising, to the point were she could almost smell it.

"Sirs, please release this woman of her restraints." Another man in a polished suit said, he was nineteen, or at least that was what she had thought once upon a time, and she smiled even more. A friend like him and her enemies suddenly felt like jokes, this farce, all of this, god she wanted this man dead.

"Why sir, she is an internationally wanted criminal, and we have a warrant." the other one said, and she shrugged her shoulders as two bangs were echoed in the hallway, and she looked back and saw a smoking gun in Drake's hands. The policemen trembled, neither of them having seen her bodyguard draw his weapon nor fire it into the sky.

"You do." the male in the suit said, "But I still want a private conversation with her."

He looked at her sadly and she smiled back her sweetest, most dazzling smile, shoving down her anger and reigning in her disgust,"You were, are a liar Mikki, a traitor. I want nothing to do with you anymore, even if it means spending the rest of my life behind bars. " she told him, and his expression went bitter.

Bang.

In front of her, Drakes large figure moved and fell to the floor and a pool of blood spread underneath him. Inside, Titania trembled but kept her expression under wraps with ironclad discipline. Her black heels standing right inside the red and her face continuing to wear a smile, a pale mask, while her nails bore themselves into her skin and her back started to cramp from how rigid she held it.

"Wasn't killing my family enough for you" she said, and stepped forward still smiling, eyeing the policeman who had shot with contempt.

He stood there gun smoking, feeling superior, grinning in delight while he just shot the last person she had, the last bit of meaning to her life to dead. "Bastard, Psycho, Traitor, Murderer, Rapist, how many of those titles fit you, I might not be much better in your eyes by closing my eyes to what was done, but you know what," She stepped closer to Mikki "At least I never betrayed anyone." Moving to standing toe-to-toe, she kissed his cheek while he remained standing where he was; in shock of her actions, and of Drake's life just having been taken in front of him. She took a knife out of her pocket and rammed it right into his stomach, aiming upwards and twisting it around.

Carefully, slowly, painfully, she did not want him to die quickly; no she wanted him to suffer. Suffer as her family had suffered, if she could change things how many things she would change just for the hell of it. He had to suffer.

Bang.

Someone had shot a warning into the sky, she turned to the policeman with a grin. It seemed he had no hesitation to shoot a lackey but he did when shooting the head of the snake.

Mikki right in that moment smiled down at her and his face lighting up, a hand moved to her cheek, "I never wanted it to come to this."

He smiled at her, his blood red lips making a grimace as he did. She stood there frozen, did not react, simply stayed there and watched how the light faded from his eyes, almost enjoying the sight.

"Don't." she told the Policeman as Mikki fell to the ground, bloodying it alongside Drake. "At least let me know about this male death."

The sirens came closer, and she started laughing like a madwoman. "It seems blood never lies." she cackled, going to her knees pulling out the knife.

The two spectators immediately ran to help him, as she shifted position, picking up Drake's head and placing it on her lap, bowing down she softly kissed his cheek, salty tears running from her eyes as she hugged him tightly starting to hum an old song.

When she saw another mass of people in uniform come closer, she picked up her knife and stared at them in defiance, "Tell your mighty, mighty bosses, I will leave nothing behind for them to use! Nothing!" Her voice was bitter, and her crazy laugh afterward made everyone shudder.

"I will come back one day, I promise, and I will eat the ones who ruined my family alive..." she uttered "...leaving nothing." and in a fluent movement she cut right though her neck, smiling as the blood gushed forward. The air was trembling in the magical energy of a powerful oath mage.

She collapsed like a broken doll whose strings had been cut.

The policemen saw the carnage and all of them shuddered, Mikki made a sound and they sprang into action, the ambulance was called, and he was brought away. His eyes remained open, fixed on the girl that tried so desperately too appear older than she was. He groaned a single word as a lone tear fell from the corner of his eye.

"Sorry."

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The Chapter has been edited by someone else. I sincerily thank them for the work and effort.