Waah waah waah
Amidst the cries of a newborn baby, the atmosphere in the house shifted.
"Congratulations, ma'am. Your baby has been safely delivered, and it's a beautiful baby girl," announced the midwife.
"A baby girl? Let me see her," Dominca eagerly requested.
Dominca's eyes sparkled with joy as she laid eyes on her newborn daughter – pure pink eyes reminiscent of her father's and a content expression adorning her delicate face.
"So beautiful," Dominca whispered, her heart overflowing with love.
Suddenly, Chad burst through the door. "Baby! Are you okay?"
Dominca looked up at her husband and beamed, "It's a girl, and she looks just like you," she shared, her smile contagious.
"Ah, is that so? How wonderful," Chad responded, rushing to be by Dominca's side.
"She truly is beautiful," he remarked, gently holding their daughter's tiny hand.
"What will you name her?" Dominca inquired, her anticipation palpable.
"Um, well, you should choose," Chad suggested.
"No, you choose," Dominca insisted.
"Fine. How about Abby Lee Emblyn?" Chad proposed.
"That's perfect. I love it. From now on, you'll be Abby Lee Emblyn, my beautiful daughter," Dominca declared with pride.
Several years flew by, and I, Abby, had turned seven. With each passing day, I grew more radiant and enchanting. My long pink hair and captivating pink eyes garnered admiration from all around, making me the center of attention wherever I went. Everyone wanted to be my friend and everyone wanted to be me.
I had a sister born shortly after me, but she couldn't compare to me though. From the moment I entered this world, I was adored by everyone. I was the epitome of perfection – beauty, intelligence, and kindness.
"Abby, you're the most beautiful girl. No one can compare to you," My mother dominca would often praise me.
"Abby, baby, you're destined for greatness. One day, you'll become the empress of this nation," Chad would predict with certainty.
My parents showered me with compliments, but they also showered me with gifts, tangible symbols of their adoration. I was flawless. I was exquisite.
Upon turning seven, my mother became eager to determine if I possessed mana. She frequently mentioned, "Your aunt is a powerful mage, and since her mana now runs in the family, it's likely that all the family descendants will inherit it." She would often praise Aunt Frisca, but deep down, I knew it wasn't genuine pride or happiness for Aunt Frisca; it was jealousy.
When jealousy takes hold, it can transform into obsession, consuming the envious individual's thoughts and words. My mother was no exception; she harbored a deep resentment towards Frisca, often venting her frustrations with statements like, "Damn it, she thinks she's so perfect just because she's a noble. I hate her."
At first, I thought my mother's animosity was irrational, but as she continued to confide in me, I began to understand the root of her bitterness.
"Abby, some people in this world are simply born lucky and never have to work as hard as others. They rise to power and look down upon those beneath them. You must never become someone who is looked down upon, or else you'll be considered a failure," my mother cautioned.
Her words resonated with me, revealing the harsh reality of our world. Money, power, and beauty were the currency of success, and those who failed to attain them were deemed worthless. I refused to be counted among the failures.
My mother imparted many lessons about the world, teaching me to never allow anyone to take advantage of me. "Abby, in this world, there are predators and prey. Which will you choose to be?" she asked.
"I will be the predator – the one who hunts, who's cunning, who's powerful, and who'll stop at nothing to achieve my goals," I declared confidently.
"Good. Remember, darling, the world is yours for the taking. All you need to do is reach out and seize it," my mother encouraged.
Both my parents instilled in me the importance of ambition and ruthlessness. "Kindness is a weakness that will be exploited. Be ruthless, my child, for only the ruthless survive," my father, Chad, would advise me.
They were correct – the world lay before us, ripe for the taking. Yet, it remained unconquered, as all who attempted to claim it were weak. This empire, this very society, was feeble, and I was determined to ascend above it all. I craved to be revered like a god, for anything less would render all my efforts a mere façade.
"Abby, darling, the magician who visited told us that you have an affinity for magic and the potential to become a powerful mage," Dominca informed me.
"A mage? Could I conquer the world if I became one?" I inquired eagerly.
"Of course. Why not? The world is yours to begin with," Dominca replied confidently.
"Hahahaha," I chuckled sinisterly, a maniacal smile creeping onto my lips.
From that moment on, I immersed myself in the study of mana and magic. By the time I turned twelve, I had mastered ice magic and began delving into the intricacies of plant magic. I was a prodigy, both intellectually and in beauty.
My talents did not go unnoticed. Barons from far and wide began sending letters to my mother's household, proposing marriage alliances once I became of age. However, I refused each offer, as did my parents. After all, why would I entertain the idea of tying myself to a lowly noble from some backwater region for the rest of my days?
My ambitions soared to great heights, and I refused to settle for anything less. My true desire was to ascend above the empire, to rise to the pinnacle of power – perhaps even becoming the empress. No, scratch that – I aimed higher. I coveted the title of emperor, the sole ruler of all. Nothing less would suffice.
Despite my exceptional talent and intellect, I was burdened with a weak and foolish sister. She possessed a measure of beauty, but it paled in comparison to mine. Her simplistic worldview and lack of ambition relegated her to the lowest rung of our family hierarchy. Although I attempted to assist her in discovering her mana, she repeatedly failed. Even though my mentor had detected a latent talent for magic within her, it was overshadowed by her feeble resilience and resolve. In other words, she was nothing more than a pathetic little nuisance.
However, I soon realized the silver lining in her weakness. Her inadequacy served a purpose in making me look good in the eyes of others. What better asset to have than a feeble, pitiful, and dim-witted sister who made her older sibling shine even brighter? While I presented a façade of caring concern for her in public, behind closed doors, I delighted in the opportunity to mold her into a tool for my own ambitions. After all, what better way to assert my dominance as the future conqueror?
"No, sister, please, no, please, no more!" Jenny's anguished screams pierced the air.
"Oi, shut up, you bitch! I'll show you how impudent it is for you to be my sister," I spat venomously.
Punch after punch landed, each blow accompanied by Jenny's agonized cries.
"It hurts, sister, please forgive me," Jenny pleaded, her voice trembling with fear and pain.
"Ugh, this is what I can't stand – little, stupid bitches who beg. It's distasteful and pathetic. But the more you beg, the more I'll torture you," I taunted mercilessly.
That day, I even ripped off two of Jenny's fingernails, relishing in the satisfaction of her suffering. When our parents later inquired about her injuries, Jenny was too much of a coward to speak up and reveal the truth – that it was her own sister who had inflicted such cruelty upon her.
My sister, Jenny, embodied everything I despised in this world. She was nothing more than prey sent by the gods for me, the predator, to hunt and devour.
Some time passed, and my parents received a letter from Aunt Frisca inviting us to a family gathering. It was a surprisingly warm invitation, but my mother promptly tossed it into the fireplace.
"Abby, we'll be attending that family gathering after all. It sounds like fun," Dominca announced.
I agreed with my mother. What could be more enjoyable than reconnecting with relatives? Perhaps I might even encounter someone compatible with me. But if I did, I would swiftly cut them down – for there could only be one Abby.
Upon arriving in Aunt Frisca's city, it became evident that she was no fool. Her city was vast, exuding opulence at every turn. Her home, too, reeked of wealth. As I beheld her face, a twinge of anger surged within me. She was undeniably beautiful, perhaps even on par with me. Yet, I pushed aside such thoughts, dismissing her as an old hag who would soon fade into obscurity, leaving me to bask in the glory of my youth.
Meeting Aunt Frisca and our other relatives was pleasant enough, though none could rival me. Even encountering that wretched Richita, who clung to my uncle, her beauty was undeniable. But as I had mentioned before, they would all inevitably wither away in time.
Not much caught my attention at first, but what unsettled me were two girls – sisters named Saori and Giselle. However, it was Giselle who unnerved me the most. When I laid eyes on her, I sensed an overwhelming surge of mana emanating from her petite frame, surpassing even my own reserves and rivaling Aunt Frisca's.
This revelation meant she possessed greater potential than me. Not only was she beautiful and blessed with mana, but she also seemed to be Aunt Frisca's favorite. She ticked all the boxes required for success in this world. The thought sickened me. I harbored a desire to inflict violence upon her, to impale her with my magic and relish in her suffering – to watch her bleed out or witness her pretty face engulfed in flames.
The obsession threatened to consume me, so I sought solace in my mother's room to regain composure. Her reassurance that I was perfect provided some comfort. With that, I resolved to befriend Giselle. My plan was to gain her trust now, only to sabotage her once she entered the magic academy next year.
For the time being, I refrained from taking action, knowing Aunt Frisca's formidable powers could foil any premature attempts. I played the role of the pleasant girl, despite the frustration and anger simmering within me. Giselle's incessant chatter about books, her beauty, or other trivial matters grated on my nerves, but I suppressed my disdain.
My patience wore thin until finally, Giselle succumbed to a deep slumber. It was a relief, as her demise seemed imminent without any intervention on my part. Yet, my meddling sister overheard my musings and sought to pry into matters, threatening to disrupt my plans.
Giselle's awakening only fueled my fury. Why was she so effortlessly perfect? Falling into a deep slumber because of an abundance of mana – it sounded like a tale from a fairy story, as If she were a beautiful princess endowed with immense power. I despised people like her.
I suggested a red spider lily for her, a fitting choice for someone of her caliber. I could practically see her basking in her perceived perfection. The mere thought of it nearly drove me to eliminate my sister.
How I wished I had succeeded, but Aunt Frisca's watchful eye thwarted my plans. I couldn't bring myself to harm Jenny under her vigilant gaze. Yet, everything unraveled thanks to Giselle's insufferable sister, Anco. She ruined everything. It was humiliating to lose to her – a pathetic girl who fancied herself a swordsman, besting me, a mage, even before attending the academy. How could I have faltered against such an ugly, feeble wretch?
"Anco Lynette, I swear I'll kill you," I seethed with rage.
My anger burned hot. I longed to tear Anco's head from her shoulders. Giselle's family – her parents and sisters – only further stoked the flames of my ire. They were Aunt Frisca's favorites, and their mere presence grated on my nerves.
I chuckled sinisterly as thoughts of revenge consumed my mind. I would wreak havoc upon them, destroying them so thoroughly they would regret ever existing. Allies were essential – loyal companions who would stand by my side, as befitting a future emperor.
And I had the perfect loyal hound.
"Harry, say woof," I commanded.
"Woof woof! Ha ha woof woof!" Harry barked enthusiastically, nuzzling against my legs.
"Good boy. Now, roll over," I ordered.
Without hesitation, Harry obeyed, rolling onto his back.
"Harry, I'm grateful to have you on my side. It brings me joy. Everyone may think I'm wicked, but deep down, I'm a good person. You believe me, don't you, my loyal companion?" I cooed.
"Of course, Abby. You're my everything. I long to be with you forever. You're the only one for me," Harry declared, drooling with devotion.
Disgust welled within me at his pathetic display. This mere ugly weakling believed I held genuine affection for him. Little did he know, I merely was using him as a pawn. It amused me to think he yearned to be part of this family, especially considering his lowly status. Why had I ever stooped so low as to associate with trash like him?
Abby pressed her finger to her lips in a twisted gesture. "Harry, lick my feet, and whenever you see Giselle, make sure to keep an eye on her," I commanded.
"Lick lick, woof!" Harry obediently complied, licking my feet before flashing a toothy grin. "I will definitely keep an eye on her," he affirmed.
Giselle Lynette, I will obliterate you so thoroughly you'll wish you had never existed. But don't fret, I can always lend a hand if you struggle with the concept of living. Hahahaha! Hahahaha!