Paris has been tainted they say.
Who has tainted it though? The Aristos or the massacre itself? Kind, caring people have been swept up in this tide of revolution and have transformed into ruthless, cold hearted killers.
Now as I stand in the heart of the chaos, my face stained with aristocratic blood - I ask myself,
"Am I really one of them?"
A cry resonates - a cry of pain and suffering. I look to where the sound came from. Nothing - nothing but the pitch black fabric of the sky and the fire burning it.
I hear a whimper and I look again. Through the crimson blood and the bodies strewn on the floor I manage to pinpoint a young boy cowering with a guard above him, ready to strike.
I know enough just by looking at his pale face to know who it is - Marius Marcel the aristocratic boy I used to work for. He never did any harm to anyone, he doesn't deserve a fate like this.
Marius is - was a good master. A fierce protectiveness burns inside. Where did that rage and anger go that had fuelled me only seconds ago? I raise my pitch-fork and charge at the guard.
Marius's face says everything,
"How - what? Did you just kill that guard?!"
I stare down at him, wondering how he could think that. I start to regret coming to save him. Marius looks back waiting for an answer,
"Well then, help me!"
I roll my eyes and haul him up. He groans,
"Why are you helping me?"
I falter for a second, not knowing how to answer,
"I don't - know. "
I look down at my bare feet embarrassed.
"You have to know why! Then why are you here then?!" Marius demands.
"HEY!" A guard shouts, interrupting our conversation.
"There's no time- go! ", I push him toward the exit.
He takes one more desperate look back at me and runs into the night. The guard takes hold of me and growls,
"You have tainted France with your actions. Now we will stain Paris with your blood!"
Why kill their own kind, I wonder? Then I realize. It is no longer just about killing the Aristos. It is about keeping the blood lust there, in the place where guilt would have been.
These are no longer the people I once knew. These people are murderers.
I wake up in a cold dark cell with nothing but myself for company. Another guard comes in to give me to Death. I am hauled outside.
It is nightfall and people have already gathered to see my execution. I am pushed towards the guillotine. I keep my head high- proud of what I have done.
The executioner roughly puts my head in the guillotine.
"Any last words Aimee Blanc?" he laughs.
I lift my head up look up at the sky,
"Why spill blood on such a starry night?"
I smile enigmatically and the blade drops.
That my friends, is the end.