"Tell us a story!"

"Yeah!"

"Tell us one about love!"

"No! One about a cool villain!"

"Oh, one about magic!"

"And have him do a cool sword fight!"

"Make the magic purple!"

"Be sure to give the guy cool powers too!"

"Have ballerinas too!"

The young woman laughed at her seven little siblings. Since coming out to their family cabin in the woods her parents had wanted nothing but for the children to go to sleep. However, that's apparently not what they wanted to do.

"Pleeeeeease, Jennifer!" Both Adam and Annabelle stuck their bottom lips out.

"Fine! One story, and then you all go to sleep!"

"Okay!"

She sighed, her mind already concocting up a small story that would combine all of the ideas the children had shouted out.

~

The purple wisps of magic flew through the air, near her pointed feet and traveled up her taunt spine into her brain. She closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath as her arms rose into the air.

Black irises going small, her face remained emotionless as she began her venomous dance.

Her feet gently went across the sleek floor, completely in sync with the other dancers around her. She didn't trip, she didn't fall, she didn't falter, she was perfect. Her skin was the color of a blank canvas. How fake it was.

Each girl wore a lacy red mask to cover what beauty was on the inside, a red tutu and red ballet shoes. No one knew why everything was red, but no one questioned it either.

Without warning, the music changed. A violin pierced the air. Everything went still.

Time to really dance, her enemy of a teacher always used to say.

She smiled, her smile not one of happiness, but of pure evil. She couldn't not do it though, what choice did she have?

Everything began. She jumped, legs and arms in midair as she does her best to do a split. Landing, she danced in circles, each step that is taken one of dread.

Soon the time would come.

Onward she went, arms flailing, red skirt flying around her. Her eyes flickered to the man that sat above them, his aura of regal simplicity haunting. How she loathed him.

Looking away quickly before he can catch sight of her staring, she continued on, slippers making light sounds as she glided.

By now one would think that, having to do the foolhardy dance every single day of her wretched life, the girl was used to it. Having to dance the horrible dance time and time again, she never learned to love it.

But, what was love? She didn't know the meaning of the word. It was like it had been erased from her dictionary of words. She would ask the other dancers the question sometimes, but it seemed that her creator always knew when she asked such a question and would punish her.

The beatings were completely and utterly gruesome, lash after lash hitting her back in continuous rows of malevolence. She cringed internally just thinking of them.

They glittered her back, a hash reminder that she was not her own.

She used to have courage to ask questions and wonder. She used to laugh and feel happiness... or did she? She was the Creator's emotionless dancer, then, now, and always, bound to dance for him for all of eternity.

Holding her arms out to the side as she tip-toed back and forth she looked forward, watching as the men materialized from the darkness, ready to dance with their assigned partner.

She cursed internally; yet outside she was still the perfect ballerina.

Gliding forward, she kept her eyes anywhere but on her partner, not wanting to see his face. She knew all she would see is hurt in every line on his face.

His hands slid around her waist as they began their dance. Staying the same one for her, but a whole new one for him.

He raised her into the air effortlessly, and a few seconds later he put her back down. Landing softly on the polished floor once again, she span around, taking his hands once again as she looked away from him.

"Annabelle."

She gasped as her eyes accidentally flicker over to him, her facade instantaneously breaking. "Don't say my name, y-you could get in trouble."

It wasn't her name anyway. That's just what he called her. She wasn't supposed to be called anything; they weren't allowed to use names. Names were distractions; they took up memory. They aren't needed, Creator would say.

"I will say what is necessary," he said, his mouth forming into a thin line as he looked down at her.

"My name isn't needed," she remarked, looking over at the other dancers.

"Annabelle?"

"Be careful."

"Stop interrupting me."

"Stop calling my name."

Sometimes she wished that Creator would give her a different partner to dance with. Then, she wouldn't have to remember constantly what she had done.

"I know that we're not supposed to see each other outside of our dance and that you stopped seeing me for a reason, but I can't stand it. I need you. I-I love you."

She looked up at him, her eyes widening at his statement. "W-what did you say?"

"I love you," he replied without hesitation.

There it was; that word. Love. It all made sense now; love meant that you really liked someone. Maybe even more than like... you loved them.

"That's impossible. We're e-emotionless, we can't love. It's not possible-" she began to say in fie, but he stopped her with a finger to the mouth.

"Yes, it is," he said, taking her face in his hands. "And I think you know it too."

She looked up at him, her feet remaining motionless as his hand warmed her cold cheek. Bringing his other hand up to her face, he tore away the mask around her eyes.

Before she had time to react, his lips landed on hers, causing her to freeze completely in time.

The feeling, the energy that zapped through her when their lips met, was like heaven. She had never felt such an emotion. Such delight, such... euphoria.

She wanted to write out this moment on paper. Wanted to paint it in her memory, so that it could remain there forever.

"Stop!"

Gasping from not only the lack of breath, but also from the shock, she stumbled back from the man she so dearly felt connected to now, looking up as the loud voice rang out in the dark hall.

Walking down the steps from his throne as the other male and female dancers scattered in fear, Creator came towards his traitorous dancers. He was clothed completely in black, even his hair and weary eyes tinted the ominous color.

"What do you think you are doing?" he yelled as he jumped into the girl's face.

She stepped backwards in fear, whimpering as she let go of her partner's hand to cower, eyes turning to the floor in shame. "Please-"

"Do not beg! Have I taught you nothing of weakness, girl? Have I not taught you to block out feeling?" he yelled in fie, slapping her across the face viciously.

She squeaked, hand flying to cradle her burning cheek. "Yes. But-"

"There are no buts! No second chances!" She stepped back a little more, waiting for another blow to meet her skin, but he paused as if to think. "It seems I have made a mistake; emotions cannot be shut off... they must be taken." He clenched his fist.

"No!" her partner yelled, stepping towards their creator as if his actions could save them.

"Do not move any further, boy," Creator hissed, moving to stop her partner with a single purple spike that formed from under his sleeve.

She saw a small line of blood fall down her partners neck as he tightened his jaw, remaining completely motionless.

"You love this girl?" Creator asked, staring into the blue-purple eyes of his dancer.

"Yes, and I'm not afraid to let everyone in this room know!" he replied sternly.

"You should be." Creator then turned his calculating eyes to look back at her, causing a shiver to race down her spine. "Say your goodbyes."

Her eyes widened as purple wisps flew towards her, "Daniel!" she screamed, reaching out for his hand.

He gasped, but before either knew exactly what was going on her vision turned bright purple.

She shook her head back and forth, trying to force the magic out of her head. Willing it to leave. Suddenly, the breath was knocked out of her lungs and her mind went blank. White, the exact same color as her skin.

When she opened her eyes again she felt nothing. Looking up, not knowing what to think or do she saw two men. One had a weird purple sword pointed at the other man, who looked frightened as he backed away from him.

She couldn't wonder what was wrong for some reason. She couldn't think at all. All she heard was a voice inside her head chanting over and over "Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance."

Obeying what she heard, the girl rose a leg into the air, quickly spinning as she executed each move like she had always known them.

"Annabelle."

She gasped, her steps falling.

"Love."

She looked up.

"I won't be coming to see you anymore."

"Why?"

"I can't do this."

"Don't break my heart, please."

"We don't have hearts."

"Daniel," she breathed, seeing the man standing behind the point of Creators sword. Her mind instantly flooded with color and memories, painting her vision with realization.

"No!" She ran forward, wrapping her arms around Daniel's neck as she glared up at Creator. "If you kill him, you will kill me too."

Creator's eyes widened. "How? -T-that's impossible."

"You cannot control me, or anyone else here! We are allowed to write our own stories. Live our own lives. No one is under the command of another. We have a will, mind, and destiny of our own handwriting. You cannot control the world. Never, ever."

"Is that what you think this is, little ballerina?" Creator asked, throwing his arms out to the side.

She held firm, continuing to glare at him.

"I was trying to help you! By erasing emotion I was keeping you away from the tortures of this world! Love, hate, sadness, loss, you would never have to feel them!" A tear fell from his eye. "You would never have to know what it's like, and you could all be perfect."

"Maybe I want to feel! Maybe we all do!" she exclaimed. "And I don't want to be perfect," she said calmly, her heart rate decreasing. "Perfect is just a word. Everyone is flawed. Your magic is flawed. Nothing and no one will ever be perfect. We are a flawed creation, no matter what."

Creator seemed to realize, understand what she was trying to explain. He seemed to accept it as he sighed reluctantly.

"Please, let us go," she said, hoping he would listen.

A few seconds passed by. She held her breath.

"No." Creator's eyes flickered up to them, fiery rage replacing the usual dark abyss. "There is still hope for my other creations, you are failures. I will start over."

She looked towards Daniel, her hand landing on his cheek, intending to tell him to run and escape, but there was no time. What a nasty thief time was.

A pain-riddled gasp escaped her mouth when she felt a piercing pain enter her heart. Her head fell backwards as someone caught it, gently lying her body onto the polished floor as she felt whatever had entered her heart jerk out.

Another gasp fell from her lips as she looked up at Daniel who was above her. She noticed that his face was contorted in pain, same as hers. Red blood seeped from the right side of his chest, exactly where his heart was.

A single tear fell down her cheek as Daniel collapsed onto his side, grabbing her hand a second later just as she began to feel her life slip away. Her eyes remained wide open, the memory of such pain etched onto the lineament of her face.

Yet, a smile slid onto her lips just as she lost consciousness.

Happiness, was her very last emotion, for she would see the person she loved some place that she wouldn't be controlled.

Freedom, was her very last thought.