Chapter One: The Start of an End
11 years ago...

“Danyelle! Dacota! Can you help me with the dishes please?”

The two siblings exchanged an annoyed look, but got up to help their mother with the dishes. Dacota, the eldest, groaned as she picked up a wet dish rag. In her opinion, a princess should never have to do anything chore related. Both her and Danyelle were princesses. Their parents were the well known king and queen of France. Danyelle, on the other hand, just did as she was told.

“Mother,” groaned Dacota, “I truly do not see the point of these chores. As a royal family, we should have servants to do this for us. Every other royal family does.”

“Now Dacota” replied the queen, Lyn, “Servants are not needed. We’re not disabled dear. We can do the work manually.”

Danyelle dried the dish she held in hand while listening to Dacota and Lyn. She saw no point in arguing over a simple chore. She preferred to do things manually even if it was something she didn’t enjoy as much as reading or writing stories.

“Dacota, why can’t you just do as you’re told instead of complaining?” Lyn said, placing another dish under the running water.

“She’s stubborn as a mule,” pointed out Danyelle, “That’s why.”

Lyn and Danyelle laughed, but Dacota didn’t. She reached out a hand into the sink and splashed Danyelle in a playful manner.

“I am not,” she said stiffly, “I just don’t understand why we can’t be like other royal families is all.”

“Why would you want to?” replied Danyelle, pausing for a brief moment.

“Well, they get all the cool castles and stuff. All we have is this huge old mansion with no servants or maids.”

“People aren’t toys, Dacota,” said their father, Alec, walking in and kissing the three girls on the cheek.

“Yes, father.” replied the young princess sullenly.

“You two go upstairs now,” he said, motioning to Danyelle and Dacota, “I can help your mother from here.”

“Yes, father,” said the two sisters, walking out into the hallway.

Danyelle immediately raced up to her large room. Dacota usually said something that put Danyelle in the middle of an argument; something Danyelle loathed. She shut her door and plopped down in her computer chair. She moved the mouse to wake up the monitor, clicked the word processing icon, and picked up where she left off. Danyelle was currently writing a story about a girl whose parents died when she was five.

The girl found a secret chest and when she opened it, she unleashed a powerful amount of magic upon herself. She then became an assassin for the side of good and brought down a variety of foes with her lifelong friends as she searched for the killers of her parents. She had sworn to kill them the same way they had killed her parents.

For a five year old, Danyelle could type very fast and she had a large vocabulary. Her story was filled with long words. She typed a couple lines, then the phone on her desk rang.

“Hello, Smith residence, Danyelle speaking.” she said, keeping the phone on her ear as she typed.

“Hi Dany, it’s Charlotte.” said the voice on the other line.

Charlotte was one of Danyelle’s first friends. She had long black hair with flames imprinted in it. They first met at an antique shop while their parents were looking for old picture frames.

“Hey Char,” replied Danyelle, fingers flying across the keyboard, “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” she replied, “Hey, have you heard about that Organization that’s going around and killing people for no reason?”

“Yeah, the police said they’re making some kind of pattern with the killings. Some kind of word or something.”

Charlotte paused on the other line. “It’s Smith Dany. The word is Smith.”

“What?” Danyelle’s heart began to race even faster, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m watching the news right now. They’re showing the map thing from a helicopter’s view. That Organization left lasers in all the murder houses and when you turn them on it spells Smith.”

Danyelle swallowed hard. Smith was her last name. That worried her, causing her to snatch the TV remote and turn on the news. Sure enough, as Charlotte had said, the word Smith showed brightly on the map.

“Dany?” came Charlotte’s voice, “Dany, you still there?”

“Yeah,” replied Danyelle, her eyes glued to the screen, “Yeah, I’m here. Hey Char?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t think they mean us, do you?”

Charlotte paused again, “There’s a ton of Smiths around here. I don’t think they meant your family.”

Danyelle sighed deeply, “I hope not.”

“Hey don’t worry. Look, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

Danyelle put the phone back, eyes stilled glued to the television screen. Charlotte was probably right. Or, at least, Danyelle hoped so.

“Danyelle! Dacota! Time for bed!” their father called from downstairs.

Dacota’s light automatically went off, but Danyelle’s lingered for a moment as she got ready, then she shut it off. All sounds that were in her head suddenly vanished as she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to overcome her.

Fuzzy colored images swam around her mind, letting in a variety of different sounds that Danyelle had never heard before. Danyelle tried to hang on to one image, but they were moving so fast that she couldn’t get a hold of one. She heard sounds in her head. Not happy sounds like laughter or music, but dismaying sounds like screaming, sword slashes, and the sound of bones cracking as they snapped. She heard voices, calling out to her and her sister.

“Danyelle!” they screamed, “Dacota!”

More voices erupted in her ears. Deadly laughter and evil cackling. It sounded as though men were in the mansion.

“You’re dead, Smith,” it laughed, “Find the daughters and bring them to me.”
“Yes sir!”

Danyelle tried to hang onto the voices in her head, but the feeling of someone’s hand shaking her woke her up.

“Huh?” she said tiredly.

“Dany. Danyelle wake up.” said Dacota’s voice hurriedly, “It’s Mom and Dad.”

Danyelle opened her eyes to darkness, but Dacota stood above her with a worried expression. She held two gleaming knives in both her hands and her long chestnut colored hair was tied back.

“What is it Cota?” Danyelle asked, getting up.

“Just come on,” she urged her sibling, “We have to help Mom and Dad.”

Dacota grabbed Danyelle’s hand and pulled her out of bed. She raced downstairs quickly, pulling her younger sibling with her. The voices Danyelle had heard hadn’t been in her dreams, they were real!

“Danyelle!” cried out Lyn as she was kicked back into the wall, “Dacota!”

“Mother!” Dacota yelled, letting go of Danyelle’s hand and stepping forth, “Leave my mother alone!”

The attackers laughed. They had on olive green robes with their hoods up. The leader walked up to Dacota without hesitation and whipped out a navy green sword.

“How sweet,” he laughed, “You actually care for that pathetic excuse for a mother and royalty?”

Dacota growled low in her throat and slashed the man in the face with one of her knives. “What’d you call her?”

The man gritted his teeth to keep from yelling out as he reached up to his slashed cheek. Blood was pouring onto his hand.

“How dare you, you little brat!” he barked, turning to the others, “Annihilate them both!”

“No!” screamed Lyn and Alec in unison.

“Oh shut it you two,” barked another killer, kicking Lyn into the opposite wall and throwing three daggers in her chest.

Blood spattered the wall as Lyn’s dying scream echoed across the room and the daggers pierced the tissue surrounding Lyn’s heart and the organ itself. She coughed once, blood spilling out onto her chin and neck, then she lay motionless, cold, and dead with her eyes wide open, staring at Danyelle.

“Lyn!” shouted Alec desperately.

“Mother!” screamed the two siblings.

Suddenly, time seemed to stop right in front of Danyelle. She felt sad and sick at the same time. She looked into her mother’s emotionless eyes and saw nothing. A pain in her chest grew and grew until Danyelle thought her heart would burst through her chest. Tears poured down her face and everything else seemed to fade. Dacota was shaking like a leaf now. The knives in her hands rattled, making clinking noises.

“You murderer!” she yelled at the killers, racing at them with every intention to kill, “I’ll kill you where you stand!”

“Dacota,” Alec called out to her, “No!”

It was too late; Dacota was already a foot away from the leader. He laughed and threw his sword at Dacota, missing by inches. She jumped into the air behind him, trying to stab him, but he was too quick for her. He grabbed her wrist and slung her forward into his sword as is came spinning back to him.

“Dacota!” Danyelle called out for the first time.

There was no need for a reply; it was already too late for Dacota. The leader’s sword slashed her across the chest, spattering blood all over the floor and him. She fell crippled to the ground in a pool of her own blood. Danyelle’s eyes went wider than before. The pain in her chest grew even more, battering against her ribcage as more tears poured down from her bloodshot eyes.

“No,” she whispered, falling to her knees, “Cota, not you too.”

Alec was on his feet now, charging at the leader with full force, but the leader didn’t move. He simply grabbed Alec by the neck, pushing him into the wall and snapped his neck in two. Danyelle let out an ear piercing scream. She was the only one left now. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed. She felt as if her dreams had been crushed and her heart had been stamped on the ground. She cried harder and harder as the sound of that sickening crack replayed in her ears.

“No,” she sobbed, covering her ears, “No!”

The leader looked her up and down, then turned to his group, giving out orders. Danyelle looked back down at her family. Her mother, whose eyes stared at her blankly from the wall. Her sister, whose eyes stayed shut forever as her limp body lay in that deep red pool of blood, and finally her father. He lay in a clump on the floor, his head barely staying together on his shoulders.

Danyelle couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure was too much to handle. It seemed as if her spirit had snapped into tiny particles scattered to the wind. Her dreams had been put into flames and her heart remained a broken spit of nothing as she cried out for her family. She didn’t even stop when the sound of sirens racing up the path reached her ears.

“Mark her,” barked the leader, turning to leave,” She’ll gain magical abilities when she’s older. We’ll get her then.”

As Danyelle looked up, a stream of orange light erupted at her, burning her forehead. She screamed out in agony as the beam bored deep into her skull, embedding a mark onto the left side of her forehead. The heat left a black circle around the strange mark, but the beam did not stop there. In small letters, it wrote Organization V around the circle. It was a mark of death! After an eternity, the beam was gone and the pain had ceased. The killers were gone now and the sirens were just now pulling up at the entrance, but Danyelle ignored them. She reached up a hand to feel the mark, but suddenly drew back. It was white hot!

“Dany?” said a familiar voice, running towards her, “Dany!”

It was Charlotte, followed by paramedics, firemen, and the police. She knelt down to Danyelle’s level after seeing the dead bodies of Danyelle’s parents and sister.

“Oh Dany,” she said, tears coming to her own eyes as well, “I’m so sorry.”

“They meant the world to me and more,” Danyelle sobbed, holing her head in her hands, “They never even had a chance to say goodbye!”

The paramedics picked up the bodies one by one and slipped them into body bags as one of the head police officers walked over to the two girls.

“Princess Danyelle,” he said, kneeling down to her, “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Murdered,” she choked through sobs, “They were…murdered.”

“By who?”

“I don’t…know.”

Danyelle broke down again. Charlotte hugged her friend tightly and cried herself while the sheriff gave his squad orders.

“Hey sheriff!” called a captain, dragging a chest out from the basement, “I think we found something!”

“Let’s see it then.”

It took four men to lift the chest out to where everyone could see it. It was decorated with gems, emeralds, and diamonds along the sides and the words Royal Princess embedded on the lid.

“Oh,” said Danyelle, wiping her eyes lightly with a finger and standing up, “That’s and old chest that my parents kept hidden from us. They told us we weren’t allowed to open it unless we wanted to carry a very lonely burden.”

“Do you know how to open it?” the sheriff asked hopefully.
“Yeah, why?”

The sheriff paused for a moment, “Princess, we really need for you to open this chest. There could be evidence that the murderers stashed in here while you and your family weren’t here.”

“My family may be gone sir, but I will not do what my parents told me not to do!”

“Princess, I understand what instructions you’ve been given, but this is of serious importance to us.”

“I don’t care. That chest will not be opened by me. Far less do I think that the killers stashed anything in there. No one has opened that chest for almost seven years.”

The sheriff sighed heavily. It was obvious that Danyelle wasn’t going to open the chest unless she had good reason to. Perhaps there was a way.

“Princess, did you ever want to know what’s inside the chest?” the sheriff asked her, playing with the lock a little.

“I’ve wondered ever since they told me about it.” she replied, looking at the chest with stars in her eyes, “I’ve always wanted to open it, but the fact of carrying a lonely burden such as the one my parents told me about is not something I want for myself or for anyone else.”

“They probably told you that so you wouldn’t open it Princess.”

Danyelle nodded in agreement with him. She felt her feet move her towards the chest, the urge to open it growing greater and greater. Voices began to scream at her as she drew nearer, causing her brain to pulse as if it were going to break out of her skull.

“Open it Danyelle!” they screamed at her, “Open it! Open it! It’s your destiny Danyelle!”

Danyelle ignored them. She pressed down the letters on the chest backwards as hard as she possibly could. There were several clicks, a couple of knobs turned, and finally it began to slide open. It let out a large amount of light and a voice that sounded like Danyelle’s mother began to speak.

“A burden of power, strength, and skill is bound by you my daughter. Find love, find friends, and people who will care for you when no one else can. Step forth to find your destiny and your fate my dear one. Unite the world through you and those who join with you and against you. You are the chosen daughter of our strength and power. You alone shall be the one to defeat the greatest evils and find your way back to us. When the world stops turning and the sun goes out is when your destiny shall end in a flash of peace, love, and harmony with yourself, friends, and your family. Take this power that we willingly give you and use it to the best of your ability. We love you dear one and take care. Let the power of love stay with you.”

The lid flipped all the way open, letting out a stream of colors, lights, and images. A red beam spiraled up out of the chest and then back down again, engulfing Danyelle, lifting her into the air. She closed her eyes out of pure fear, but there was nothing to be afraid of. She felt herself spinning around and around as her body changed. Her hair grew longer and her eyes changed from blue to an emerald green.

The knives that had been in Dacota’s hands lifted up into the air, duplicating rapidly in an oval around the young Parisian princess. They fixed themselves all over her body. In her hands, hair, clothing, and accessories. Her voice changed into a sweet sound.

Her clothes began to change into a gold top with flowing sleeves and black jeans with a golden slash. Her shoes transformed into two inch heels that were gold as well. She felt her muscles getting stronger.

The voice of evil laughter erupted from the chest, this time everyone could hear it. It was the same voice as the man who had killed her parents and sister.

“You may be stronger now Princess, but you have been marked with death,” he laughed, “We will come for you Princess Smith. Someday when you are older, we will come for you and this time, you will not get away. Your family is cursed and you are the next on death’s list.”

Danyelle shook her head in disbelief, but that didn’t last very long. Another voice, raspier and more dangerous erupted into Danyelle’s ears. It screamed laughter of pure terror.

“We are finally connected Princess. You and I will fight as one. We shall kill as one. We shall dominate evil and rule this earth together! I am the Black Terror!”

Danyelle suddenly felt like she was falling. The chest had shut its lid and now Danyelle found herself laying facedown on the floor.

“Danyelle!” Charlotte exclaimed, running to her friend and helping her up, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Danyelle replied, rubbing her head, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well,” said the sheriff, looking back at the chest, “We know what that does.”

Danyelle looked back at the chest and then over at the paramedics. She looked down again, tears forming in her emerald eyes.

“Sheriff?”

He blinked, “Yes, Princess?”

“Can you promise me that my family has a proper funeral? I can’t stand to have them cremated. They mean a lot more than that.”
“Yes, Princess. I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you Sheriff.”

He smiled at her and nodded. Danyelle smiled back, turning to look at her mansion. It was all in perfect shape except for a few spots where the killers had kicked Lyn back into the walls. The tears that had built up in Danyelle’s eyes began to fall down her cheeks.

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A few days later was the funeral for Alec, Lyn, and Dacota. Nearly everyone from Paris alone came as well as those who traveled for awhile from other cities in France. The women had brought flowers and tissues while the men just hung their heads and listened as the Minister of the Cathedral spoke of the greatness of the King, Queen, and Princess. Danyelle cried almost the whole time.

“They acted as a mother, a father, and a sibling to us as well as they did to Princess Danyelle. They protected us in our time of need; they helped rebuild anything that was destroyed by terrorists or by something as simple as fire; they were our friends and our family as well as our leaders. We shall carry on their teachings and examples through our lives the way they did when they were here. We shall miss you and we will never forget what you have taught us.”

The Minister stood back for a moment while Danyelle stepped forward, placing a red rose on each of the caskets. She paused for a brief moment, then looked up at everyone else.

“They meant the world to all of us regardless of age or ethnicity; they were not only teachers, but friends to us all. I will never forget what I learned from them and I know you will remember too. It with a saddened heart that I say goodbye to them forever.”

Danyelle paused again, her eyes sparkling with tears. The Minister placed his hand on her shoulder to give her more strength to finish speaking.

“Goodbye…my family.” she said, tears falling freely down her cheeks.

“Goodbye Danyelle,” said the voice of Dacota in Danyelle’s head.