(Mentioned death and fire warning)

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Ever since she was a child, she always knew how to get her way. Just act a little bit wild, and someone will surely come to play.

False frowned down at her dolls, glancing over at her brother and sister. They were laughing as two servants helped play kitchen and drive around remote-control trucks. False had an idea. She slowly leaned down to a smaller doll, cracking its arm in half. She pricked her finger on the splintered wood, pulling fake tears from her eyes. Immediately, the servants ran to help her finger and play.

It's a truth she took to heart, but humility and patience don't come with age. She's born to play this part, a diva's always center stage!

False stood on the side of the stage, wearing a small crimson dress. She watched her sister sing loudly, False and her brother only muttering backhand lines. Her sister wore a longer, sparklier, redder dress than her, her brother in a handsome red suit.

She quickly sang her lines louder, walking right up to her sister. She quickly bopped her shoulder to take her place. Her parents only saw this as a passing of parts, or her sister forgetting her line as she stomped offstage.

Toddler's cries that grow louder and louder, relishing in untestable power. Glowing red in a black-and-white scene, the one and only: Candle Queen!

Her brother's sobbing filled the room as he toddled in. The scene was disturbing for anyone, who could blame him? The queen lay in the middle of the large kitchen, blood red against the black and white tiles of the floor. The king was at her side, medics checking over her body. Her sister was sobbing at her feet. False stood behind him, hiding the knife in the hidden pocket of her skirt.

Stoking the flames that grow higher and higher, royalty with a crown of fire. Setting ablaze an extravagant scene, the one and only: Candle Queen.

False ran down the halls, stuffing the blue lighter into her pocket. She shoved chairs out of the way, small tables blocking doorways. She swung doors open before blocking them with chairs, tables, marbles, anything to get in the way; she pushed past people running down the spiral staircase, pushing one off the stairs themselves. She grabbed the banister, sliding down at lightning speed.

False ran out of the staircase, shutting then locking the door behind her. The princess ran out of the castle into the field around it. Only a few people were there with her. As they ran and walked her away, looking over her shoulder, she saw the fire coming from her father's bedroom.

Addicted to adrenaline, and always looking for attention. Thought to be so genuine when she's suddenly met with apprehension.

False stood on the stage, looking out to the small crowd of dolls. She sang happily, but her smile soon turned pained and pupils wide. She looked down at the button eyes of the crown, who now seemed to stare back. The stared and stared deep into her eyes.

False fell to her knees. "I know what I did! I know, I know. Just let me sing already!" She sat there kneeling for a moment before getting up, singing slightly off from earlier.

The fighting has begun, and she'd do anything to get ahead; like using people as ladder rungs and sweeping eggshells under the bed.

False ran onto the small stage in the town square. The townspeople were yelling, hitting each other, running away and at each other. "Hey, hey! Shut up! True and Cy didn't die of sickness! It was... Tango!"

The crowd gasped, turning towards the blonde man. His crimson eyes widened, face pale. "M'lady, there must be a mistake! I could never attack such amazing children, such nice humans, such royalty!" His eyes started to well up, riding his hands through his blonde hair. "How could I ever kill True and Cy?!" False frowned, pulling small fake tears from her eyes. 

"Take him off."

Toddler's cries that grow louder and louder, relishing in untestable power. Glowing red in a black-and-white scene, the one and only: Candle Queen.

The small crowd stood at the gravesite, such a death would be rare in the town. Two men in black suits stood by the fresh grave, bawling their eyes out as other comforted them. Everyone wore black that day, for the servant, but also the diseased royalty. Only False wore a red tie around her neck and bow in her hair, pinstripe suit looking like a popcorn bag.

Stoking the flames that go higher and higher, royalty with a crown of fire. Setting ablaze an extravagant scene, the one and only: Candle Queen.

False stood by the small cottage. The straw roof was ablaze, the wood walls catching sparks. Soon, only the stone foundation would be left.

It was tradition, basically. Anyone dead, used to live by themselves? Who needs a house when they're dead? Even more, who would live in the house of a dead person?

Sure, some people were against it. They tried to throw buckets of water at it, but of course, the guards stopped them. Gosh, those guards would stand there until the was nothing burnable left.

"Ah, but there's hope for you still; before it all comes unfurled. Ah, you just need to chi-i-ill, it's not the end of the world."

False looked down at the young dutchess. "Chill? I need to chill?"

The brunette grimaced. "Well, you see Miss- My Queen, you've become quite a bit more hot-headed lately? You haven't been acting the best to any of us. The cook, me, the guards, the town!"

"Who cares?" Muttered False. "I get what I want."

"Y-Yes, my queen."

She can't help but be this way, she lost her true self long ago. Now all her friends have been bashed away 'cause a caricature is all they know.

False entered her room in tears, running to her vanity. She opened the drawers, throwing handfuls of photos out of them.

Pure, white smiles. Perfect postures. Nicely kept hair. Sparkling eyes. Shiny jewels around their necks.

The duchess, duke, guards, townspeople. True, Cy, the late king and queen.

If only she had loved them then, if only she hadn't taken the knife. If only she had them still.

But now she was wicked. Her smiles were fake. Her tears were fake. Everything was fake!

Toddler's cries that grow louder and louder, everyone rushing to disavow her. All alone in a black-and-white scene; the one and only: Candle Queen.

False stood on the stage in the town square once again. Her hair was unkept, her dress torn at the ends; her gloves stained.

For once, it was more than just a crowd member with tears in their eyes. False was at that point, too. Many townsfolk were yelling, throwing old fruit and drink at the broken royalty. They were yelling for justice, for fairness, and for everyone unfairly lost under the vile queen's reign.

Hurt by the flames that burn higher and higher, clutching a broken crown of fire. All alone in the final scene, the one and only: Candle Queen.

False ran through the stone halls of the castle, clutching old photos in her gloved hand. She opened doors, banging on the jammed locks. She would hurriedly turn another way if a door didn't open, running to yet another sealed doorway.

Old coffee tables and chairs were strewn around the hallway, blocking the monarch's way to departure.  

She knew that all her karma would get to her one day. But not now, not her birthday! Not her ever! She needed to live, she needed to rule, she needed to carry on her family's regime!

But no, the crimson flames licked at the doorway behind her, catching to the tables, chairs, and other knick-knacks throughout the hallway. They hit the rugged carpet, the tattered paintings and tapestries on the walls. Soon, the Fire fit the queen's skirt.

What a pity, that Candle Queen!

The townfolk would soon rejoice, crowning a new monarch to rule. The small kingdom would grow to be happy, with no discriminating rulers for a very long time.

Well, for now.

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(1,398 words)

Hi guys, Hugh here! I'm so happy this got finished, sorry that I've been gone so long! I've really gotten into GHOST's music lately, heard Candle Queen a few times, then evil False hit my brain, and... well, you see.

Bye, little snakes!