There is a line that even the evilest of souls do not cross. A blackness that seeps into a void left empty by inconceivable wickedness. Dark magic and a thick fog that lingered around all who kissed the darkness. This was the soul of the Evil Queen. Regina had not always been so callused and cruel. A slow smirk curled her lip upwards as she recalled a time when love and happiness had actually filled her thoughts. Those days were long gone. She had cast the unspeakable spell. Cursed all to an eternity of suffering. Concerned with no one's happiness but her own, she had created the world of Storybrooke. Trapped those who defied her and betrayed her. Imprisoned them in a dark alternate reality that had no resemblance to the life they had known. She was content…. For a brief time.
In the midst of all that she had become, Regina wanted nothing more than a moment's rest. Just one quiet moment that she was not required to react, respond or feel the urge to rip the bloody, beating heart from someone's chest. She paced frantically in her office, dreading her appointment with Gold. She was the still the Queen in so many ways, though none remembered her on the throne, as Mayor of Storybrooke she ruled just the same. But there was one whom she suspected knew her secrets. One person in this god-forsaken town who looked at her with knowing eyes and an evil grin to rival her own. They never discussed it and she never want to question him, but still she knew…. That he knew… the truth of who she was and what she had done.
She hated Gold and wished that she could kill him. No not just kill, she wanted to torture and kill him. He always had this snide, offensive attitude that let you know in his own, self-serving way, that he was one step ahead of everyone else. "Riddle me this dearie. What is soft and hard and destined to spoil all of your plans?" He would then cackle like a mad man, leaving Regina to fume and threaten until he would stop the torment of implying that he knew her secret. It always seemed that he knew exactly how to extract the most blood for any deal he made. And for a price, as was all things with this evil little man, everything had a price. Why she had ever agreed to allow him to assist with the adoption of a child was beyond her own reason. He could not be trusted and he most certainly would twist this to his own advantage as he did with all things. She had somehow anticipated an argument; felt in her bones that he was going to make a demand that would be the breaking point.
He had come to see her to discuss the adoption he had arranged and to tell her his price. He wanted to purchase a piece of property that Regina owned. The Mausoleum that her father rested in was on that land as well as the door to her past lay buried there. "No." She flat out refused. She wanted this child, but she could not sell Gold that property, that would be impossible. When he said 'please', rage flooded her senses. He knew that she could not sell him that property. She was between a rock and a hard place. She was unable to resist his request and yet when he said 'please' she was forced into a situation that would force her to relinquish control of that land. She was unable to refuse his 'please' and he knew it. If ever she wished to have her magic returned, it was at this moment. She would have found some painful way to torture and murder this man.
He stood there smiling, knowing her dilemma and deriving great pleasure from the look of anguish on her face. In a mad rage she pushed him roughly, knocking his cane to the floor and sending him flying back into the wall. His laugher echoed as she ran from her office without giving him a response. She could not refuse him and yet, she could not sell him her property, truly a double bind. The frustration burned beneath her skin like a slow building fire as she jumped behind the wheel of her black Mercedes and sped away from the Storybrooke City Hall. A storm exploded in the sky above her, thunder crashing, the night enveloping her as the pounding rain beat the roof of her car. It was truly a reflection of her mood and if the Mayor had not been so certain that she was without magic, there is no doubt this is the kind of storm she would have created in response to the impossible dilemma that Gold had put her in. As she drove out of the city and continued on the dark road that passed through the forest, in her rage, she missed the turnoff to the Mayor's mansion and kept heading directly west. West towards the city limits of Storybrooke, Maine. West towards the invisible line that separated Storybrooke from the rest of the world. The line that kept them hidden and safe and the real world out. The line that, if crossed, would erase all memory of Storybrooke and its residents.
It was a tragic circumstance that she found herself in now. Cast as the villain in this dark story. Regina Mills had not always been the calculating persona that she had become. Once upon a time she had been a girl who laughed and played and loved to ride horses. She had viewed the world though eyes of hope and dreamed of a future filled with love and joy. But an ambitious and calculating mother had managed to rip those qualities from her soul, piece by piece until all that remained was a hollow woman whose only goal was revenge. Her eternal search for happiness was always just beyond her reach, just beyond her ability to seize it and make it her own. She was most certainly a victim of circumstance. Forced into a loveless and cruel marriage after her love had been so evilly taken. That kind of pain has the ability to twist a woman's soul. And it had twisted her heart and soul until all that remained was the Evil Queen who cast the darkest of curses and was now a prisoner of her own devices.
Tears of rage streaked down her face. Gold was insane if he thought that she was going to give him the property that held her father's remains. The property that held her darkest secrets. She kept hearing the echo of his 'please'. It resonated in her stomach like an ulcer, burning through her flesh. There had to be a way out of this. A way to avoid his request. The darkness swallowed her, the car's headlights only revealing a few feet of road at a time. In her blind rage and with minimal visibility, Regina's only realization that she had passed through the invisible barrier that protected Storybrooke from prying eyes was a brief moment of adrenaline that rushed through her body as she crossed the invisible line. For a brief moment, fear gripped her as the realization of what she had done registered in her brain. And then just as quickly, it was gone and the dark haired woman in the black Mercedes found herself on a dark stretch of highway without any memory of who she was or where she had come from.
Confusion clouded her senses and she quickly pulled off of the road. The rain had stopped as soon as she had passed through the barrier and the night was left chilled, but clear. She pushed open the car door and jumped out, looking in both directions up and down the deserted road. Where was she? How did she get here? And most importantly, who was she? There was nothing but trees and the sound of the night animals as they settled into the deserted darkness around her. A chill flushed her skin and she quickly got back into the car and locked the doors. She saw her purse on the seat beside her and quickly pulled out her wallet. Her name was Regina Mills, and she lived in Storybrooke, Maine. There was nothing remotely familiar about that name or that location. She was distraught with confusion. How could she just suddenly appear on an abandoned road with no memory of getting here? She looked in the wallet and was relieved to find that she had plenty of cash and several credit cards. She slowly put the car in gear and pulled onto the road. Without any sense of direction, she continued towards an unknown destination.
It was breaking dawn when she arrived in Boston. The city was big and dirty and confusing. She wasn't sure how much of a credit limit her cards had, but from the way she was dressed and the looks of her Mercedes, she assumed that she could afford to stay in a decent hotel. Her stomach growled with hunger, when had she last eaten? What she liked to eat? Even without a memory, the body had its own needs and insisted upon food and rest. On her right she spotted a relatively upscale hotel. Once she had a room she would order room service and dig through her purse for more clues. She could not have simply appeared out of nowhere. Once she was nourished and rested, someone here could surely direct her back towards and this place called Storybrooke, Maine.
The brunette was exhausted. It was as if every inch of her skin had been stripped from her body and then stretched back over her bones in an ill fitting, hurried, frenzy. She felt out of sorts, every thought just leading to a dozen new questions. Who was Regina Mills? After checking into the hotel, she was led to her room in a haze. She confirmed that she was indeed in Boston, but no one seemed to have an idea of where that was in relation to Storybrooke, Maine. The Hotel manager had eyed her suspiciously when she checked in without luggage. That evidently was not the norm in this type of establishment. Regina told him that she was traveling and had been robbed of her possessions. She wasn't sure that he actually believed her, but it was a fairly plausible circumstance and so he simply nodded as he took her driver's license and credit card. It was only after running the card and confirming her credit worthiness that a smile appeared on his face.
Regina wasn't sure what her credit limit was, but evidently it was enough to satisfy this man's doubts and allow her to rent a room in his hotel. He assured her that he would send housekeeping to her room with all of the essentials she needed and once she was rested he would send a personal shopper to assess her clothing needs. How high of a credit limit did she have on that card? And there were three other cards tucked away neatly in her wallet, at least she wouldn't have to worry about food and shelter at the moment. She didn't want to confess that she was a woman without a memory. Even without any self-knowledge, she had enough sense of self to know that she did not like to be perceived as vulnerable in any way. No, who ever Regina Mills was, one thing she was not, and that was a push over. She would not give anyone insight to her current predicament.
It was a strange sensation to have no memory of ones self. She was an empty vessel, completely blank of any history. She had obviously remembered how to drive; she'd managed to get herself from the middle of nowhere to the city of Boston, without an accident. She remembered how to read and write and do all of the basic necessities. She remembered everything…. Except for who the hell was Regina Mills? After sleeping the day and night away, she awoke the next morning, groggy, but rested. She showered and slipped into the thick, terrycloth robe that was provided by the hotel. She ordered room service and shortly afterward was greeted by a personal shopper who came to her room, measured her for exact size, made notes of suggested colors and styles and promised to return quickly with Regina's new wardrobe. Within a brief time after finishing her meal, the shopper returned with an incredible variety of clothing. Regina was impressed that everything seemed to fit her well and she was once more dressed in a style that she was sure was how she would have dressed if she did remember what she liked to wear. Sleek and stylish, tailored slacks and skirts with professional jackets to mix and match. Underwear, bras, nylons and several selections of shoes. She examined herself in the full-length mirror and gave a saucy grin, to the chagrin of many; she would not be wandering the halls naked thanks to her own personal little shopper. Her critical eye examined every inch of skin from head to toe. She leaned forward and briefly wondered how she had gotten that scar above lip.
Finally content with her attire, She sat at the desk in the room and emptied out her purse. Somewhere in the randomness of this bag, the secret of who exactly Regina Mills was had to be lurking. She evidently kept receipts, there seemed to be several from a place called 'Granny's' and two from the 'Storybrooke City Hall Cafeteria'. She evidently liked Turkey sandwiches, no mayo, and light mustard. There were no photos in her wallet. Was there no one in her life? No family? She examined her keys, looked to be the usual, house, office, and car. One peculiar key was a skull's head. She wrinkled her brow and wondered what on earth that could open? Realization suddenly hit her and she snatched up her cell phone. Why hadn't she thought of this before? Scrolling through the list of names in the phone book none of them even hinted at a glimpse of familiarity. It didn't matter, with a deep inhale and exhale she hit 'call' for the first name and number of the list. "We're sorry, but the number you have reached is no longer in service." What? She continued a quick and random click on to each number listed. They all had the same result. "We're sorry, but he number you have reached is no longer in service." That was not only infuriating, but it was impossible. How could every single number in her phone be out of service? In frustration she threw the phone across the room, fortunately it landed on the bed without out any damage. Was this some kind of cosmic joke? Regina Mills had not just appeared out of nowhere on an empty road in Maine!
She hadn't realized how much time had passed and she needed to get out of the small confines. There was no listing of Storybrooke, Maine anywhere. She needed to purchase a laptop and track it down herself. She would drive back in the direction she had come from and just search for clues if she had to. She slipped on her heels and grabbed her room key and purse. She needed to feel a part of something because right now she was feeling as if she didn't exist at all. It relieved her nerves to step off of the elevator and hear the hushed voices and muted conversations that were going on around her. She walked out of the hotel into the cool night air and inhaled deeply. She was hungry for something familiar, yet everything around her was foreign and distant. The valet brought her car around and she slid into the leather seat and sighed. This felt familiar. This car was all she had that connected her to her past. If only it could talk. A mechanical voice came from the speaker as she turned the key. "Please enter destination address." The GPS startled her, she had no idea where she was going. She needed a laptop. There must be a million places that sold computers. She pulled out of the Hotel driveway and headed east. It was as good a direction as any.