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Grim Wolf
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And Lily was protesting, and what did any of that matter because Isabel was moving towards her, and Lizzie moved away and

Tripped. Fell.

An accident. Was that all it took? One miserable accident, and everything goes wrong? Lizzie's faster than Isabel on a good day: now, covered in bandages, what are the chances that Isabel can catch her? Getting this close was absolutely a mistake, but she can fix it. She can...

Tripped. Fell. Empires are lost on smaller things. Whole worlds fallen, because of the wrong words in the wrong ears

doesn't she look a little tired

She tripped. She fell. Isabel was already upon her as she scrabbled to her feet (so close and so fast and Lily had done nothing to help her what was this nightmare world into which she'd willingly walked how-)

She felt the sword first as a cold pressure against her bowels. It didn't even hurt: it was just this overwhelming, heavy feeling in her stomach.

Fucking fun.

She lay there in a daze. She tried to rise, and a wave of weakness washed out from her stomach. A moment later, and Isabel's foot slammed down from the dark height, right on the wound. That she felt, spikes of fire racing up and down into her chest and down into her thighs. She squealed in pain until she ran out of breath, and then gasped for air.

Fun. That was it. Fun? No, more than that, right? She deserved it? She deserved to do this to people, over and over again? How many was it now? She knew Tina, for sure: she hadn't really been listening to the others.

And wasn't that a fat stack of dickery right there. Only the ones who matter to you, you selfish woman.

Fucking Christ this hurts.

She was still panting with the pain, her thoughts drifting far away, except Isabel was talking and now Lily was standing above her, Lily holding a sickle, Lily standing by this killer, this murderer, and even if Lizzie was a selfish bitch it was their family she'd murdered so why the hell was Lily standing there and-

She raised the scythe.

"Assholes," grunted Lizzie, tears in her eyes and coals in her belly. "Ass...you don't...deserve...

The scythe swung, and buried itself in her shoulder. And Lizzie bucked against the pain, and that stirred the embers in her guts, and her scream, high and bright, tore up across the island and across the waves.
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