The minute I walk out of my dorm, I'm greeted with hushed whispers and fearful looks. I relish the apprehension they give me, basking in it like an actor in their wealth or an artist in their popularity. As I make my way to my first class of the day, Algebra 2, the whispers trail behind me, flitting words impossible to ignore.

The farther I travel into the school, the clearer the voices become.

"It's Ravena Nightshade."

"Oh sweet Celestia of the Sun, she looked at me!"

"Isn't she a murderer?"

"Her whole pack of freaks are killers, Oona. The school would be better off without them terrorizing everyone-"

"If you really think you're quiet," I turn towards the voice, "That would be an insult to the concept of silence." I stalk closer, a lion about to pounce.

Now, it's time to play with my prey.

The person who spoke was a small girl, in 7th grade. Like a deer in headlights, her eyes are dilated and huge. I just smile, flashing my fangs to everyone watching.

I slowly start to prowl around her, licking my lips every so often, occasionally playing with her thick turquoise hair. She flinches every time my acute, indigo colored nails contact her skin.

"Don't be scared," I purr in her left ear, making her shudder. "I just want to talk." I continue to circle her, analyzing her as I do so.

The little girl gulps, trembling. I can almost smell the fear radiating off her, a sweet scent unlike anything I can describe. Her throat bobbs with the motion of swallowing. It's very tantalizing to dig my claws into it, but I stop myself. I don't want another court case against my family, and I just got my nails done.

The little girl opens her mouth, but stays silent. Her hyperventilating sends chills down my spine.

"Do close your mouth," I fake scold her. "You're not a fish, are you?"

"N-no," she finally squeaks, stuttering in a high pitched tone that only emphasizes her weakness. She's nothing more than a child. I chuckle, and continue to play with her hair, twirling it around my finger and for fun, yanking on it so she yelps in pain.

"You're very pretty," I say slowly, "I would kill for hair like yours."

"P-please don't hurt me," she whimpers. I internally roll my eyes. So innocent and naïve. So vulnerable.

"It's hilarious how you think begging and crying will help your situation." I laugh, my smile immediately dipping into a scowl. "What's your name?"

"Rhea Blanche," she whispers, her whole body quivering like a leaf under her sky blouse. I grab her chin forcefully, and tilt her face upwards. Up close, she could pass for 11, 10, even. Pale skin, cute little freckles scattered across her nose, and huge chocolate eyes that are enlarged from fear.

"Well, Rhea," I whisper to her, my nails tracing a very slow line from below her right eye down to her cheek. "Do you know what happens to little girls who disobey the rules?" A prominent mark begins to show on her skin.

"They get punished," I hiss like a serpent, digging my nails into her neck, a thin crimson viper trailing my fingernails obediently.

Tears begin to well up in her eyes, and I know I've hit her breaking point. "I'll let you off with a warning this time," I snarl, "But only because I don't want to get blood in my clean hair." And with that final remark, I push her back into the open arms of her friends. While they're busy fussing over her, I turn sharply on my heel, leaving the whole hallway in dead silence.

**********************

"Ravena Nightshade, you are twenty minutes late to class," The math teacher, Ms. Serenity barks at me. She's a small woman, with a bun of snow-colored hair and giant wrinkles running all over her face. "Care to explain why?"

"Of course," I answer. "A student told me to go to Tartarus. I looked around for awhile and I couldn't find it anywhere. I decided to come here instead."

Earning a few giggles from the class with that remark, I swiftly cross to my seat and sit.

"Please continue," I tell her, taking my books out of my bag. After a pause, the teacher clears her throat and starts up where she left off. I put my notebook on the top of my desk, along with my pencil case.

Instead of listening to this monotonous drawl of parabolas and equations, I make use of my time. Namely, I scheme. About Ash especially. Being the Venator's leader, I have to keep everything and everyone here in check. Sparks start flames, and flames can turn to raging infernos if not caught and extinguished in time.

I flip to my most recent notes about 'Project Pyro' as I call it. I sketch out my basic ideas for the plan we discussed in Ophelia's dorm, mostly how we'll pull it off and some alibis that we could use if it gets traced back to the Venators.

I take all class just focusing on how we could provoke her. I'm so intent on my work I barely hear the bell ringing signaling class is over. I pack up my stuff and head to the next class, my ideas boiling my head like pasta in hot water.

***************

After school, the rest of the Venators meet me in Common Room 7 at 4:00 pm. I get there 10 minutes before them. In the Venator legion, early is on time and punctual is late. When I'm done setting up, I decide to finish my homework and am about halfway through when everyone come in. We make ourselves comfortable in whatever spot we can find.

Soren is lounging on a sofa, Erza and Ophelia possess separate armchairs, and I am sitting straight-backed in a love seat. "Let the meeting come to order," I begin.

"Now, the last time we met, Soren, you were practicing your concerto, the twins and I discussed how to bring Ashlyn closer to us." He nods, and I give him a moment to process the new information.

"We discussed multiple means of deception, some possible alibis to disrupt her friendships with some of the girls, particularly Marigold. Now, for the details of the plan-" I'm cut off by Ophelia turning on the TV. I looked over to her in confusion. "What are you doing? This is a meeting," I demand , angry for the disruption but curious as to why she turned it on.

She flips over to the news, and once the reporter on screen starts talking, she turns to the rest of us. "Sorry for the interruption," she apologized, "But I heard the news was doing a report on something involving Manhattan."

I leave my seat and come to a standstill next to her. I take a seat on my knees to watch the reporter and what's happening there.

"It has almost been one week since this horrible tragedy wrecked this beautiful city."

"Yeah, the city of slums," I mumble under my breath, my eyes glued to the reporter on screen.

"Currently there have been almost 400 people injured by the storm, and even more are missing. 792 in total were killed. Almost all missing people have been found, but-"

"Wow, Ravena," Soren jokes. "That tsunami has more kills than you. Might wanna step up your game."

I hold a hand up to shush him. This information could be important, and I don't want to miss anything.

"The Statue of Liberty is yet to be found after it floated out to sea. Princess Celestia has been sending relief aid to Manhattan, and her daughter Ashlyn Adara has been selling a few singles to raise money."

"Here we go again," Ophelia rolls her eyes. "I swear, if I hear her name one more time, I will get your obsidians and puncture my eardrums with them."

"Silence," I hiss.

"But she's so annoying! Why do we even need her?" Ophelia whines.

"Don't say that! She's not annoying!" Ezra argues.

Ophelia snorts. "What, are you now in love with her or something?"

Ezra flushes a deep red. "Of course not! I don't like anyone here!"

How sweet. Ezra is trying to lie about his little crush on Ash.

Think, Ravena. The shadows chide. I wrack my skull to find an idea. At this point, anything will work. I cannot be taken for a fool in front of my own legion. If I cannot come up with a solid idea on how to deal with a helpless princess then Father will disown me. My whole family will look down on me. Abrax will think I'm worth nothing...

No, I say firmly to myself. You are worthy. You just need time. Rushing head on into a plan never got anybody anywhere. It never got YOU anywhere. You've worked for your power, and your plans. You've achieved them all. You just need to work harder. Think, Ravena Ebony Nightshade, THINK.

I search every crevice of my skull for ideas while the twins bicker in the background. My head hurts from thinking so hard for so long. I decided to tune in to the twins' argument. Some of their most brilliant ideas come from them fighting and saying something completely random.

"I do not like her," Erza shouts at Ophelia. "I hate her! She's so fake, annoying, and smart, and sings amazing, and I want to run my fingers through her hair..." his eyes glaze over and a dreamy look comes over his face. Soren and Ophelia unleash a wave of snickers.

"Yeah, he REALLY hates her," Ophelia smirks. "Too bad you have another cute vampire guy edging in on your territory-"

"What?!" we both shouted at the same time.

"There's a new student coming." I storm over to her. "And you didn't TELL ME?!"

"Uhhh," she mumbled. "I thought it wasn't that important...?" I put a hand to my forehead and groan. How could she let something as valuable at that go unnoticed?!

"Let me get this straight," I say. "There's a new student coming, a cute vampire boy, to be specific, and you didn't tell me. How long have you known?

"The teacher only told me yesterday," she admits hastily. "She wanted to ask me if I would show him around since we were both vampires. I said 'no'."

I grumble a few slurred cuss words. "This kid could disrupt the school system," I moaned. "This is huge, do you realize that? This kid could bring about the downfall of our entire influence over this school!"

"He, um, he's coming right after the trip..." She mumbled.

"WHAT?!!!" I shriek, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her like a rag doll. She grabs mine in return and digs her nails into my skin.

"Ravena," she yells. "You gotta calm down! He doesn't know us! We can still force him into submission!"

"Another person...this is very unexpected...we'll need to make sure he knows we are the rulers here...he could get close to Ash and make her-" I freeze, an idea sprouting in my head. "He could get close to her..." I mused, my gears used for planning turning rapidly in my brain.

"This could be the opportunity we've been looking for to get close to Ash," I spun around to face the rest of the Venators. "If we play our cards right, we can use this to our advantage. We can establish a connection to the new student. Keep him as a contact on the outside. We can urge him to get closer to Ash, and learn her secrets. Then, we can use the information to bring her in closer."

Ophelia taps me on the shoulder. She has her hand raised like an obedient student in class. "One question," she said, putting her hand down. "He's super hot. Like, Ezra hot, but with abs."

"I have abs!" Ezra exclaims, pulling up his shirt to reveal the super sculpted things.

Ophelia ignores him. "What if he takes no interest in her, thinking he's too good for her? Or, what if he fills her head with our secrets he learned from us. Or, what if he wants to lead a rebellion against us and tries to overthrow us? Pretty sure the teachers don't mind having one more teenage murderer in this school."

"Why do you keep saying he's hot," I ask Ophelia impatiently. "You've said it many times. We get it. He's hotter than Ezra. We've established that. Why is this bit of information so important?"

Ophelia just smiles, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Because it's high time you had a partner in crime," she teases. "You can't stay lonely and depressed forever. If he can get close to Ash, he can be your eyes and ears, and a 'boyfriend'. If it doesn't work out, I can hook you up with a few more nice vampires back in-"

"I'm good, I'm good," I say quickly, my face flushing a salmon pink color. I clear my throat and say again, "I'm good. There's no need to play matchmaker right now. I'm busy with the legion, and plans, and-"

Ophelia groans very loudly. "Quit making your life so miserable! You're in high school, and you've never even had a crush! I swear, I will chop my wings off and shave my head if that's what it takes to find you somebody you want to go out with."

I turn a brighter pink while she continues. "There's a few nice magicians in my art class, a SUPER hot jock flyer," she counted on her fingers, "Again, the vampire dudes in Trevanta-"

"I told you I'm fine," I snap. I take a deep breath, in and out. "This meeting is now over," I say flatly. I exit the common room without another word, leaving the legion in a confused silence. That is, until Ezra throws a chair at Ophelia for insulting his abs.

***************

Storming my way down the empty halls, I crash into my room and collapse on the bed. I just need a moment in seclusion. I let out a sob that had been collecting in my chest. Nobody knew my little secret except Abrax, and he never spoke.

This world never accepts oddities. We fear them, tease them, even straight up harass them because of fear. Conform. Conceal. Don't stick out. For who would want to be ostracized by society?

Nobody would respect me if they found out the leader of the Venator Legion was lesbian. Even my friends would turn on me. So, I keep it hidden. Buried inside me all this time. I cry until I heave dry sobs and wheeze hoarse breaths.

After awhile, I wipe my eyes and stood. I stalk over to my punching bag and pull on my special knuckle-covers. Black leather, with steel spikes on each finger. Polished to perfection, they're my most prized possession. I start punching the bag relentlessly. Each time my fist connects with the bag, another insult rings through my skull.

One, two hits. Weakling. Left hook. Freak. Jab, sidestep, jab again. You will never be worthy of Abrax's time. Look at yourself. Crying, a broken leader. You know it. Everyone knows it. Someday you will fall from your throne and everyone will relish watching you squirm around, begging for attention from your family and followers. Even Ash can do better than you. You are a sad, pathetic excuse for a child of Sombra-

I let out a raspy scream, roundhousing the bag in the middle. With one final screech and giant kick, the bag detached from the hook in the ceiling and fell to the ground.

I pant for a few minutes, my whole body covered in sweat. After catching my breath, I pull the bag upright, make sure it's sturdy, and hook it back onto the ceiling. No, looking up at the bag, worn ragged from years of beating it mercilessly.

I will not break. I will triumph over you, and prove to my family, to this school, to the world, that I am strong. That I am brave, and smart, and I will overpower Ashlyn and her stupid girl squad...I will triumph. I will be victorious. And I will win your respect, Abrax, and your admiration, father and mother.

"Even if it comes at a price," I rasp.