Regicide. {Mature Content.}

It looked absolutely nothing like corn syrup.
As Emma watched red matter flow from the ruin that had once been the back of her stepfather’s skull, that realization and a sickly warm feeling of pride were all that occupied her mind. The un-saccharine mess dripped through the pavement cracks and into the gutter, glittering beneath the orange light that stained through Emma’s city. Michael’s city, too, she remembered as the young man dropped a .45 and a strangled cry simultaneously.
She turned to see her lover in the midst of an expletive.
“Fuck.”
“We’re free.” Emma stated, euphoric.