Mass Murder

I was with my friend, who was the queen of England. We lived in a small house in the bad part of town just around the corner from the mansions. I had a little stack of toys with explosives strapped to them. Then they came, and we killed them all. Shot them, bludgeoned them to death, left blood like watermarks on the walls, and pools on the floor. Then we ran. There are more of us now but not with me. We killed them all, but not the one who betrayed us. We went back to the house as soon as they were gone we kept living there but didn't turn on the lights. Every time we thought we were on our own, they came back. Splintering our door, guns drawn trying to find us. Cutting into our conscious, with a needle. We never cleaned up the blood.