I May be the Villain but I’m Not a Whore

The Fox was a notorious villain. Cunning as she was beautiful. Fierce as she was mysterious. Her crimes were sporadic and seemed almost random. Once it was robbing a bank, yet once cornered she had thrown the bag to floor before vanishing in a cloud of smoke. Next was kidnapping and ransom for a child or spouse. Few were found, unharmed but their faces showed such sorrow and fear. The rest simply vanished and the money if paid was gone. And then, the deaths of many. Some men. Some women. No relation. The most mysterious was how no one new her real face. Being a shapeshifter, that was a given.

Rosa Rothfus was a happy child. Like most, she had a mother and a father. She had friends that she played and went to school with. Of course, she would have a best friend. The two were inspeperable. Two of the prettiest flowers ready to bloom. It was no wonder someone would come along to pluck the innocent roses from their safe garden.

Rosa doesn’t remember much. Two men. They had grabbed her and her friend. She fought and kicked and screamed. Pain. She got free. Her face was bleeding. Her friend was taken and then she was found. A white rose, plucked and died red. And Rosa Rothfus shifted to hide her scar and her fear and her fury. She new she was lucky to be alive. Yet another nameless, faceless victim. She hid that she heard them say “must have done something.” “The little whore was showing off.” She plotted her revenge.

The Fox smirked as she eyed her prey. He thought she was easy because she was alone. He claimed she tempted him. Though she may be the villain, but she wasn’t a whore.