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One of my favorite regulars started coming after I got my liquor license and started serving as a full bar as well. Her name? Allison ‘Allie’ Baya. She was a known assassin that loved my place. She was an amazing woman; one would never guess she was a highly trained assassin. She was tall, with blood red and pink spiked short hair, her eyes were so dark of brown they looked black, her signature clothing was black leather pants, leather knee high boots with a six inch stiletto heel, blood red leather corset style top, and a black leather jacket. We talked about a lot of nothing, missions we both had been on, the government that denies the jobs we have done, the lovers in our past, the fact the Unions Baseball team are creations of Lucifer (he states that was all his dear ole Daddy), and how the Green Sox (the team Lucifer states was his creation) were preforming that year. One night, late at night, we were the only ones in the place and she finally told me her past.
Allie smiled. “Well, I guess you could say I woke up from an abusive relationship…”
Allie did what she was supposed to do, go to school, get married, but the man was abusive at best, and would kill her one day at worst. He was cheating on her. But she had been raised to be this man’s wife. She took it until the straw that broke the camel’s back came falling down.
Her father had basically sold her to her husband. Any rebellion as a child had been met with pain. To avoid death she became what she was raised to be, a silent possession of a man.
With each beating it broke her mind more and more. Each rape destroyed her mind bit by bit. The pain cracked her soul. But as her mind broke the need to get away grew.
Especially when she discovered she was pregnant.
So she started to plan. She had to be careful and plot her rebellion.
Then one night it came to head. She didn’t want to fight. She let him say and do what he wanted, but he took offence she was no longer fighting and he started to beat her. And as she tried to protect her unborn child she knew it would end in her greatest failure. That night her mind finally fully broke along with her body.
The man who called himself her husband had made his last mistake. As she laid in the hospital she vowed she would make sure he paid for his capital crime. She had said her last ‘I’m Sorry’ while crawling on the floor in fear and her blood.
Allie looked at the man who had left her black and blue. Who had killed her unborn child. She picked up the axe; she lifted it above his sleeping form. And with the weight of the axe and all her power she brought it down on his neck. She took a picture and sent it to her father who forced her to marry the man. “The King Is Dead! Long Live The Queen!” She captioned it, showing her hold his head up and a manic smile on her face.
She was found dancing with his head in his blood by the police an hour later. “It’s a party in his honor!” She yelled at them. And it was a party in honor of the son she lost.
The man who took her son’s life, the man almost broke her soul taking her son, was now dead, and paid for his crime.
But she vowed that no man would ever get the best of this Queen again!
Allie stood in court and smiled at the female judge. “Your honor, I choose you to hear my trail. I want to make a statement.” She took a deep breath. “I was forced into the marriage by my father. He was abusive and was going to kill me. So I married his friend. But the friend was worse. I was raped on a nightly basis. He cheated on me. He beat me to an inch of my life. I had to fight for every breath I have taken in this world. They underestimated me. He beat me to an inch of my life and killed my unborn child, your honor.” Allie could see the tears start in the woman’s eyes. “So, I staged my revolution. I evolved past the meek door mat. My revolution left me bruised, broken, bloody, dying. So, I took the axe in a moment of desperation. I preformed my final act of defiance. My mind broke. I killed him. And then danced in his blood as he spilt mine and my child’s, upon the floor of my prison. Your honor, this was an act of a woman with nothing left to lose. Of a woman with a broken body and mind, but not heart or soul, a woman who needed to win her revolution or lose what little she had left of her soul. Please, forgive me your honor.”
Less than an hour, actually it was forty-seven minutes, was all it took for the judge to deliberate and come to her verdict. Allie came out with a not guilty by reason of temporary insanity. She was free to go. She stood on the steps of the court house. The Kings that ruled her life were either now arrested in jail, or dead. And that left her, the Queen, very much alive. She smirked at the statue of justice. “No lies were told, no secrets left unturned, there are punishments that fit the crime, but I committed no crime. Look at me in all my glory, Justice, nobody will ever get this Queen.”
Allie walked off that steps of that court house and found a league of assassins who taught her, who took her in, who built her back up. Who truly made her ‘The Queen.’
“So that is my story.” Allie finished as she finished her Black and Tan. “I was done, and needed a clean slate. The King is Dead, but The Queen is Very Much Alive!” She cheered.
I topped off her drink, and I raised mine to her. “GOD BLESS THE QUEEN!” I yelled as I toasted to her. Perhaps, one day, I could tell her my story.