The Queen

CHAPTER 9

-PART ONE-

-STORY OF TRES DIABLOS-

-MEETING THE QUEEN OF NIGHTMARES-

The angel of death comes for the wicked, for those who hurt others with cold indifference. She comes with fingers of knives to slice out the eyes that watched the horror and pain with such callous minds. And when she stands before the greedy, the false and mortal who crave power,

Blades ready

Tell them not to ask for pity, because to her, when she faces those who are so very evil, mercy means death. All she gives is a one-way ticket to face their own God. Tasked with lighting the way to the dimension the departing soul would be bound to for their next life. For a human soul there were infinite paths. She had never yet lost a charge to the emptiness, the vast pool of the other entities that vied to be a God, her channel, her connection to the earthlings, for all came from the human race in a time far into the future. All times were nothing but a vast puzzle to the only living deity, all of them important but not sequential in the way everyone experience them. She appeared as human as if she once was, ethereal yet almost tangible enough to feel. She radiated love, smiled and beckoned. She was quite simply the one no-one would run from but the one who could kill for you, she was the one to take them home, a place where they truly belong. Followed by a shadow, knew the time was near but couldn't accept it. Everyone dared not look at being itself but tried to figure it out slowly by taking in glimpses of its shadows. There it is like having a magnificent wing, huge and bird-like, extending from its back. Seeing its glowing eyes in the shadow.

Death was here

Someone was about to die.

"Penny for your thought young lady?"

"Fuck! You almost give me heart attack!" She hissed in between of each other, looking to the side where the voice belongs, it was Knight-Lock

"Hey! I just want to grab this mini opportunity to talk to you personally" he stated while his hands are on his pocket

"talk about what?" She curiously asks while looking at the window pane.

"I just want to say thank you"

"Thank you for what?" She answered back with a smile on her lips

"Thank you for saving my life, for being there when I needed someone to lean on" he stated putting his arms on her shoulders

"you don't have to, it's my duty to do so."

…

I pushed people away, either good or bad

I was fragile

Didn't deserve to hold me

Or try to Save me from the darkness I become

No one wasn't a superhero,

Took the rage I had, out on them like it was disaster

I wasn't healed

I was damaged

I project my pain towards them

I wasn't good for anyone

I couldn't even love myself

I had to let go a version of myself

I chased for love I never felt

I chased for someone I can't even have

I chased for my identity I never had

Louise was a great pub owner, a very good owner. Thought that was what got her industry huge. The highest paying club among town of Lurk. There was no way she was going to turn down either the money or the publicity. It was a well-known industry. One of the best that serves chocolate based rum. It had a modern vintage feel that was still connected to its Prohibition Roots. Louise could name almost every Famous pub played the business, and how their industries took off after serving the unique rum for a few weeks.

And now, it was her turn.

Her industry became loud.

Really loud.

She also liked to serve huge sets oftentimes an hour or more. Most places wanted a solid requisitions and deliveries, But Louise was an excellent distributor; she knew when her customer had enough and needed desperately either just a bait. So she formulates more for them, not some just a club that tries to sell more wines and beers who happened to have no quality. So she formulates for an hour or more. Distilled alcoholic spirit made by fermenting then distilling sugarcane molasses or sugarcane juice having queer strong, particular genuine, and fragrant Haitian fit the needs of the man who owned industries. For while Louise produced even more, her team could have their meetings at the conference of Sol y Luna without worrying about floods of order, being overwhelmed, or spied upon. Certain groups among the people watching out for Public Safety would be unable to ascertain what was said during those meetings.

And that is why Louise was an amazing one. Got compensated like the Star she makes herself. All she had to do was to run her pub and keep her mouth shut. In this particular case, that is not an oxymoron but a way to keep both her business and her life.

The darkness seems a gloom that permeates every aspect of life. Clouds loom in the sky, every shade of monochrome from sliver though storm grey leaving gaps only for the black night. Against the cars with the running boards, faces partially obscured not only by the lack of light but by the rims of the fedoras. The only glint in the blackness comes not from the moon, but from cigarette tips like crazy red fireflies born to die. In just minutes there will be a reason for the homicide cops to cordon off the area,

but not yet.

Soon more dark painted classic cars will crawl out of the black night. After some wise-cracks and a negotiation that was never destined to succeed, the shoot-out will begin.

"Who's the kid?" Lycko Louise nods toward a teenager, a stringy boy, yet to gain bulk for his bones.

"None of your business... if you know what's good for you."

Every muscle on her two brothers' face tightens, eyes narrowed, chin jutted outward. He reaches up to adjust his fedora, placing it at a jaunty angle on the back of his head.

"Bastard piece of shit" Price utters feeling irritated

"watch your words kid!" Gray shouted

"I make it my business. This isn't no place for kids." Louise slumps her weight onto one hip, bending the other knee just slightly, lighting up a smoke before turning her head to the docks.

"Send him home or loose the deal." Wide-eyed, the kid turns his head from Louise with her brothers, taking a step backward and flinching as his boss pulls out a revolver. The moonlight plays only upon the wind rippled water and the steel of the barrel.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. idiot" Gray utters as he saw the revolver.

A single shot rents the air, echoing through the maze of shipping crates and accelerating into the horizon. A dull flash of recognition washes over the face of the kid's boss before he slumps to the rain-washed dock, a "red carnation" growing on his business suit.

"Get out of here, kid." She's mad.

She is really mad.

…

Resting against the wooden pillar with a face of utter nonchalance, as if she were merely waiting for a bus on a spring day, wine glass in hand. She isn't slumped at all, her body is clearly too feminine for that, yet it is just as relaxed as her face.

Coldness in other term.

She's almost smiling. Smiling as if something good were about to happen. The world falls through her feet. Good for her is likely bad for others.

Very bad.

Slumped at the vinyl desk-for-one, flicking at the tape that peeled from the side to reveal the MDF board underneath. These chesterfield chairs were alright a few grades ago but now all the heights were wrong and it made her back ache.

Has the swagger of someone she doesn't even want to lock eyes with?

let alone cross?

Its arms are more ink than skin and his blonde hair so closely cropped that from a distance she had mistaken him for being bald. When his trajectory is set for her, she decides to busy herself by slowly touching her gun at her pocket, but as she make to take it out back the man hails her in the kind of tone she can't ignore, as if she like breathing without a respirator. The extends his hand and in reply she shows her dagger instead and the man shrug apologetically. Beneath his pierced brows his eyes are as direct as she expected, not even blinking as much as the average person. Then from the shadows comes three more just like him, but not so pale. She just stared at them for a moment, and then let his usual charm drop. A glimpse at the man behind her mask generally let them know that backing out was an option. She never did that until she had some dirt on them, once she knew something they were ashamed of she had them.

No need to be nice anymore.

Kids were so dumb.

Both lies.

…

Taking the vantage point not from desire for victory as the ego-driven do, but rather from a somber feeling of duty that is so solidly within my soul; strength and surrender come together for the wise, for we are only truly strong when we protect the vulnerable. Walks ahead in times of trouble, to show the road forwards, and then in the good times walk behind in a role of support and steady nurture. Only this dynamic style can bring strength to the population,

Our population

Whom must always be developing the psychological maturity, from the bottom of society, those whom have survived the awfulness of pain and want, yet learned to become wise, empathic and self-controlled despite their origins. As such we cannot have hereditary leadership such as royalty, for they are born at the top.

You've must learn to become on top

You've got what it takes. The greatest leaders in history had great big hearts yet it wasn't any characteristics that I have.

Cold and heartless brutal Brat

Using cold logic up against the worst of sociopaths, against those whom only crave money and power. Then, in a twinkle of an eye they are the beloved spirit of goodness everyone trusted and adored.

Motives matter.

Blood matter.

Silence matter.

Integrity and intention is everything. That you can dismiss intention to see the basic motives of the primitive brain, then layer on top with pretend angelic motivations, control the former can encourage the latter, there's your true power. It's the power of manipulating and all will fall. Be a leader who is a servant, both 'tall' and humble.

Kill for the common good

Wise is one who is so vulnerable that everyone come and ask any questions that needs an answers. They are the clever ones who will flaunt that they got there without anyone's help. For this job of saving my allies was my top priority, foolish and brave, noble and so infinitely clever

Remember that no matter how low you feel; you are a giant in their eyes.

Powerful piece

…

The most powerful piece that knows all the game, able to move any directions she wants. Without restrictions and without permission. Having only one queen, always next to her king. Because the queen is the strongest piece, her pawn promoted to her according to the vast majority of cases. The queen is stronger than her allies, always the advantage of her king. The queen is stronger than a combination of her ally, even though they control and manipulate the same number of ideas, is twofold. First, the queen is more eloquent than her man, as the entire power of the queen can be transferred in just one move, transferring the entire firepower requires subsequent moves, the affiliates always being restricted to move against the queen. Second, the queen is not hampered by. The queen is strongest when the enemy is poorly defended, or when there are about to be in depended pieces. Because of her long range and ability to move in multiple directions, the queen is well equipped to execute each so-called forks. The queen is less restricted and stronger in closed positions.

A queen sacrifice is the deliberate sacrifice of a queen in order to gain a more favorable tactical position. Taking a step forwards.

Feeling the fear.

The difference between taking the step forwards or not is everything. And over a lifetime it defines who you are.

Who she is

All those steps build a brave soul and, in time, an accomplished person who does much for others. Being brave becomes a way of being, one to embrace. First is the fear, then the determination not to be ruled by it. Choosing to face fear either to conquer, faced with adversity have an ability for calm and rational thought, always a conscious choice. A tidal wave of fear makes the feet want to run away,

of course they do.

Everyone choose to run

Yet instead she chooses to ride the wave and see where it takes. A fearless person by nature, quite the opposite, but will not be mastered by such a basic emotion,

a primal urge.

Listening to instincts and making the right choices. Decide if it is right or if it is a bit cracked in the head. Brave isn't the same thing as being stupid. Often it pays to weigh up the pros and cons of action versus inaction. Thinking of many instances where the brave choice was to walk away. When a situation is intractable, when every move is a bad move,

it can take courage

to take yourself out of the equation.

High emotions are often, though not always, counterproductive. There are times for meeting fire with fire, and others for meeting it with ice, there in the shadows of my mind; the calculation behind every move she makes, a technician of a chess player. With stature it must invoke fear in so many,

using your position to every advantage.

The fear once reigned over is ebbing, yet fully under control,

reducing little by little.

There is a weakness in the way that posture and will prove Achilles heel.

An emotional gun to her head, and still thinking for others.

For the common good.

No one knows how it feels inside her heart, like an invisible arm reaches in there and squeezes it. No one knows that she bares with this pain and still fight to remain conscious, oblivious to her suffering.

a love lived for the other,

not for reward,

seeking those of lion-heart, not ones who would burn the world to save themselves, those who whimper at the slightest personal hurt whilst ignoring the catastrophic wounds of others. Nobility comes out in spite of the self. It is the will to do right by others at personal cost.

death is the end.

Even the pains that come to explode within, the silent hand grenades.

…

MUSIC ON: You don't own me

You don't own me

I'm not just one of your many toys

You don't own me

Don't say I can't go with other boys

And don't tell me what to do

Don't tell me what to say

And please, when I go out with you

Don't put me on display 'cause

Knocking out two men with one move, seems pretty impossible that a girl can knock a man but not to her. She was the queen for sake. Defending herself for attacker that wants to make her stop from proceeding to live. Simple reason, business. She had killed men before, anyone who blocked her way and anyone who opposes. The situations seem pretty easy for her, taking few punches and hard kicks seems like she was just playing her dolls.

"Fuck! You stubborn Williams! You deserve to die!" the man serves her few punches that hit her abdomen yet she continued to defend herself and punch continuously.

"Hell yeah! You can't kill me bastard! I've been killed for so long because of this bloody system… among the two of us you deserve to die!" she shouts as she pulled her dagger and create many slash on air as she can.

The demon was awake wanting for blood.

Not quite so long a load screaming coming from the man's filthy mouth when the queen slashes her dagger towards his face.

Blood.

You don't own me

Don't try to change me in any way

You don't own me

Don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay

You don't own me

Don't try to change me in any way

You don't own me

Don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay

Killing men before, in every quiet places, in defending herself and defending her allies. Some of the times had been accidental due business transaction and some had not. But she had never killed anyone who did not deserve it. There was the risk at the battlefield and every man that opposes her fights behind either filthy unfair fights. Everyone knew the risks and Louise showed restraint when she could and tried not to kill them. If they were some difficult opponents, she could not hold back and they would be slain but she would not feel guilt. There had been times she had been close to grave, usually in ambush with her business rivals trying to get her rum formulas either secret to so-called success, like this one. Any coward willing to stoop to such level deserved to die and their lives had no value to the queen. Killing on defense of her allies was easy as breathing. There was to option during those times. Anyone who had dared to lift a finger against her and her allies and it was obvious there was only one outcome. Death.

I don't tell you what to say

I don't tell you what to do

So just let me be myself

That's all I ask of you

I'm young and I love to be young

I'm free and I love to be free

To live my life the way I want

To say and do whatever I please

The woman was quick to pry the edged cutlass from her opponent's swollen fingers and whipped around to clash steel. She held the blade even, a perfect, undaunted horizon; always leveled with the nose, just as her father had taught her. She had stalled the man's strike, but watched a wretched, stained grin split the pirate's lips as her blade shivered under the brutality of his compelling strength.

"Weapons do not belong in the hands of women… And one thing stop being a metaphoric bitch!" he throatily crooned, pressing closer to her face. The blade flashed as he brought it over his head and hummed a low, swift tune when he brought it down. Yet the queen manages to kick him to avoid his counter attack.

And don't tell me what to do

Oh, don't tell me what to say

And please, when I go out with you

Don't put me on display

I don't tell you what to say

Oh, don't tell you what to do

So just let me be myself

That's all I ask of you

After the lift reached the ground level, the man stepped out onto the sand and dirt, which was heavily stained with blood of the former matches. In the center of the so-called ring, he drew his gladius, his double edged sword and raised it skyward as his greeting. Next, attention turned to the other lift that opened. The queen stepped off, she smiled, and raised her not so extra-ordinary dagger to the sky. Wild response arose from both sides, emotions inside driven an extraneous effect. The man faced the queen.

They circled.

The girl cast towards quickly, but the man side stepped as he backed up. Missed. The man stepped on grabbing the opportunity, and speeded in toward the exposed opponent. The man counted with his double edged sword but Louise bushed it aside with her dagger. She knew the next thrust would be to her chest, so she pushed a narrow wood to armored shoulder toward the oncoming bastard. His blade glanced off the wood sort armor. The man dropped his dagger, and grabbed Louise' throat. The queen plunged her dagger to the bare stomach of his adversary and swipe it sideways as if she was playing it. The man spouted blood, and fell in slow motion. Her face is unreadable,

no fear

no invitational smirk

I'm young and I love to be young

I'm free and I love to be free

The Queen of all Queen

Angelycko Louise Williams