Olive Specter: The Red ChairOlive Specter: The Red Chair5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Olive Specter: Tale of the Red Chair
My name is Olive Specter. And I am a murderer.
It is not something I speak of with pride. Nor do I speak of it in shame. It is just what I am. And I could not change what I am with all the magic in the world. I know. I've tried. As a result of my failure to change, I have killed many over the years. Mother and Father slaved to keep it a secret, and later, when they had also passed on, it became too difficult, hiding the truth. Before long, I was the town outcast, the old woman whose gate children dared each other to touch. Before long, I was feared and loathed by everyone. I can not say I blame them. But then . . . who is there to blame? Certainly not me. If anything, I am as much a victim in all this as my victims.
It started when I was a child. I still remember it, my very first murder. Though Mother and Father would have done anything to keep that memory from me, one can not forget murder. No one does. Not even a child.
I was six years old