Bad Romance

A Story by Jolan H

A Romance heroine runs through her authors stories to find an identity she likes.

She was the typical goddess of the Romance novel. Blonde hair blue eyes, beautiful but didn't know it, until a man came along and gave her value. Her author held the ugliest place in her heart because of his outdated sexist ideas. Her name wasn't the greatest either; Irelynne. Who would name their child that? Irelynne wouldn't.

Her mother used to say "If you aren't happy with your situation, do something about it." The author's version of doing something about her misery involved doing someone in a scene with terrible sexual innuendo. Tonight all of that would change. Tonight she would peruse the rest of his work and find the right story for her.

She started with a fantasy story. "I could be a daring princess off to rescue the prince. Or I could be the first lady politician fighting for social change. Wouldn't that add some depth to my character?"

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped into the unfinished document. When her eyes opened, she was in the middle of a silent hallway with bronze sconces attached to old weathered stone walls. The smell of oiled leather, made her think dominatrix until she felt the scroll in her pocket.

Irelynne unrolled the parchment with excitement, "I wonder what this character was doing before I took their place?" In flawless calligraphy, the words "Kill the child" stared back at her.

"Why am I killing this child? For who? Maybe I should have read the story first." The sound of heavy boots echoed from down the hall. Irelynnes heart raced, and her mind became a muddle of panic as she looked for a place to hide.

A small but noticeable alcove with porcelain figures dressed in elaborate gowns looked like her only option. In a fluid motion, she yanked a curtain down, wrapped it around her body. She froze at the back, where the shadow was heaviest.

"I am telling you, Flynn, her breasts were out to here." A fat piggish guard said as he exaggerated size with his arms. He looked and acted like a slob. One that had no problem letting a silent but violent wind in Irelynnes direction.

She tasted the bile in her throat, as the hair curling scent grappled with her nose hairs. Irelynne wasn't sure what the man was eating, but it wasn't fresh.

"Esmerelda is a comely w***e, eager to please. If I could find a wife with her talent, I could die a happy man." The handsome and rugged Flynn said.

"He won't do at all. I came to this story to find someone different from the usual male leads. I wonder why the child has to die? Maybe I could be a single mother? Yes, I will steal the child from this story."

The pair of alpha boars continued their revolting discussion as they strolled down the corridor. "They deserve each other." Irelynne padded down the hall checking in empty rooms for this child who had to die.