Thread: Fx Male 𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔣𝔦𝔠 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔰 |𝙾𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 & 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜| (NSFW)

Samples The following section is filled with snippets of literary works that I've done over the last several months. Some are snippets of stories that I have written with others, while others are part of my free writings. Please enjoy them at your leisure if you choose. This section is entirely optional for reading Bloodlust September Father in Heaven, I fear that I might be too late to save the soul of one most precious to me. It seems as though the darkness that I fight so hard to vanquish, always finds a way to worm its ebony tendrils around those dearest to me. First my parents, then the boy who I had taken in as a brother and now her. Have we all not suffered enough? Must you make me suffer further? Is there a lesson I still must learn?! Lord, my dearly beloved has begun her descent down into the arms of Lucifer. It is not her choosing Almighty, but a happenstance of her damned birth- she is but a victim of fate. I speak of my Catherine. My very reason for breathing. My reason for continuing through this gruesome masquerade we call life. Father, she has begun to dream. These night terrors that plague her mind are not of this world, I fear they are far more sinister. Originally, I thought nothing of these nightmares. Naively I assumed that this phantasm in Catherine's mind was just a projection of her inner, sinful, desires- one that might be taken with devout prayer to you. She is a righteous woman- why do you make her bear this burden alone? Despite all her prayers and anointing her with holy oils, the dreams continue. The frequency and details are too uncanny for them to be just simple projections of her innermost wants, I know this for a fact. She has described a man's features, features that belong to one steeped in blackest sins. I know who she speaks of and fear that he has already corrupted her innocence past what can be absolved. This man. No, this monster hiding in the guise of an angel has set his sights on my reason for existing and I fear his claws have already sunken in too deeply. He and all his kin deserve to die. These dreams of which I speak, often wake my beloved from a dead sleep. I've watched her late into the night and have seen how she awakens, gasping for breath as she clutches her throat where his teeth have pierced into her. Not surprisingly, Catherine found herself afraid to close her eyes from the terror that the angel in her dreams will drag her down into the pits. Eventually, she pushed herself to such an extreme that she believed slumbering during the daylight hours and waking at dusk would keep her mind from recreating these vivid nightmares. She was mistaken. Eventually, she confided in me the intimate details as I had only known she was plagued. These next words written are words directly from my Catherine's lips. Catherine Each night I begin falling. I am not afraid, in fact, I feel weightless as I descend into the unknown- I am comfortable in this endless darkness. In my dream, I awaken slowly beneath a full crimson moon high above me. I know I've never seen a moon of such sinister shade before but a sense of familiarity fills me. I realize as my senses awaken that I am laying on a cold stone altar, dressed in a fine white gossamer nightgown, pristine in comparison to the bloody moon above my head. I will myself to sit, to take in my alien surroundings- despite the ache in my bones. My eyes see hundreds of wild red rose as they snake and weave their way around the ancient stones beneath me. Amidst the roses are thorns. They threatening to bite into my alabaster flesh if I should move- I know I am safe on the cold stone beneath me. To my East, I see an expansive forest, shrouded in thick billowing fog which hovers low amongst the ancient trees which are covered in thick moss. It resembles that of an old man's beard. To my South looms a foreboding castle, shrouded in ominous black clouds that give way to brilliant streaks of white lightning. Blinking torches light up the tall windows, illuminating apparitions who roam the halls. I know I should fear this place but I can hear the soft trill of a music box. I can not recall the tune but if I were to hear it in the waking world, I would know it. This siren's song beckons me closer but I dare not move for fear that the thorns winding around where I lay will not allow me to leave. Immediately in front of me sits a quiet graveyard filled with tombstones. The writing I can never make out, no matter how hard I strain my eyes. Yet the grave markers are not what draw the eyes. In the center of the grand graveyard, a weeping angel outstretches his arms to me. His lamenting expression beckoning me and I feel drawn to him. I can almost hear the stone whispering Come closer and let me fold you into my arms. As I stare at the stone figure, entranced, a ghostly voice that's carried on the bitterly cold wind whispers my name. At first, I can not pinpoint the source of the voice. I search frantically as it calls to me but no matter my searching, I am left still wondering. Deep down I know I will hear it again and so I wait patiently. Then, as if summoned by a prayer I did not utter, the voice comes again, but louder, far clearer. The only way I can describe the proximity is, it is as if a lover leans over your shoulder and whispers tender nothings against your flesh. Instantly I turn my gaze once more to the sorrowful angel but he has changed and my heart races with foreign excitement. My angel has been made flesh. The pallor of the stone did his beauty no justice. The majority of his body is exposed, save for a flowing black shroud draped over him like the angels painted on the ceilings of grand churches. I am surprised but in awe as a heavenly golden glow, beings to radiate from his creamy skin. On his back, great black wings stretch out behind him for what looks like miles. I imagine myself running my palms and fingers over the silky plumage but I am brought back to my reality when I hear his voice clearly. I am compelled to reach for him. His voice is like a spell. It caresses my ears gently and no matter how I might cover them or close my eyes and demand I wake, I find myself unable to resist. My body is not my own. I begin to move from the stone slab beneath me but the thorns tear into my flesh. My white gown colors with my blood even as the living vines wrap violently around my hands, my wrists and my legs- demanding I stay pain my motivation. I swear I can hear them pleading with me to remain, that the heavenly denizen is not as he appears. But despite the grim warning, I struggle because something unspoken is compelling my feet to take a step forward. Again the roses and thorns deny me. The pain radiates through me and I softly begin to weep. I know that without the angel's loving embrace I shall surely perish. With trembling hands I reach out for my angel, pleading with a silent voice to break me free of my bondage. Then he moves- my plea gives him strength. Gracefully, like water flowing gently over the shores and smooth stones, he floats from his pedestal. The world around us falls away, leaving only my stone bed, the binding roses, my angel and me. He crosses the darkness, bringing his otherworldly light as it radiates off of him. He is the sun and I am the withering flower. He is beautiful. Beyond what words might ever be able to describe, he is lovely. As I reach for him, he reaches for me. It is then that our fingertips touch and I feel new life breathed into my lungs, having been completely unaware that the thorns have taken the very breath from me. My angel pulls me close to him, vanquishing the thorns and the beautiful roses yet I am saddened by their death. The feeling is fleeting though as I am now beside my angel. Speechlessly I gaze up into a face that I know I love. My love though is tempered with fear for I know my angel in this dream is my God. He is my salvation. I don't know how I know these things and I don't question how I know. I am content with the knowledge that he is all-powerful. I dare not tempt him to unleash his righteous wrath unto me so I remain ever subservient to his wishes. My only desire at that moment is to please him- no matter his request I know I will obey. Time seems to stand still in our world of blackness that stretches into forever. Where I have feared the darkness, I feel safe and at home in it beside my God. My angel brushes his fingers against my cheeks, willing me to focus only on his divine features. His thumb collects my fallen tears and I think nothing when he lifts his solid finger to his lips and tastes them. Then he touches my weeping wounds. I am ashamed to have solid his fingers with my unworthy blood and before words can express my shame, he shakes his head. I speak soundless words and my angel smiles. The smile frightens me for, despite his divine beauty and loving touch, my humanity screams danger. There is a Devil hidden behind his kindness. It is a devil that desires to consume me, all of me until there is absolutely nothing left. I can't speak at this and even when I try to form words, it is then that my angel kisses my cheek. I am reminded of when Judas kissed the cheek of Christ before his betrayal. Yet, unlike the tales of Judas and his deceit, when he withdraws, blood red tears stain his marble smooth flesh. I am compelled to kiss those tears away or to brush them away but my angel stops me, holding me captive. He whispers words I can not hear but I obey regardless. I tilt my head back and expose my throat. The only sound that fills my head is that of my thunderously beating heart. Again my Angel whispers to me, his breath hot across my exposed flesh and I feel myself relax into him completely. I am limp in his arms. Then there is searing pain. It burns like liquid fire is being injected into my veins but it is fleetingly. Before I wake, I can see myself smiling. I wake shortly after, gasping for breath. The pain is no longer there but my heart still races and my cheeks are wet with tears. The dream is always the same but sometimes the placement of the castle and the forest change but the thorns, the ancient graveyard and the stone angel being made flesh and the pain... They are always present.' Dominick lifts his pen briefly from the leather bound journal to glare down at his own messy handwriting contemplatively. Was he truly doing the right thing for the woman he loved? For months she had been plagued with these nightmares and each night when she awoke, it was always the same. She would gasp for breath as if she had been submerged in water, told to hold her breath until her lungs burned or she drowns. Then she would softly wail. Her lamenting muffled only my her long-fingered hands or the wool blanket clutched in those same hands. She would sob until she was once more gasping and the world would go silent again. Sometimes he would hear her begin to recite the Lord's Prayer, while other times she was as silent as death. Wasn't the only righteous choice to give her the help she needed- by seeking the Elders of their holy covenant? Would the wisest of the remaining humans understand? Or, would they condemn her to death for being a messenger for the Morning Star? It was the thought of losing her forever that had the young warrior angrily throwing his quill to the wayside and his heart once more heavy with dread. For the fifth time that hour, he prayed to the Almighty that his decision did not condemn his beloved to suffer more than she already had. An aggravated sigh erupts from between the holy man's lips like a ghost finally set free from his chest as he leans back into the makeshift chair. He is resolute in his decision, even despite the overwhelming anxiety eating away at his heart. Catherine was in mortal danger. The warrior of God knew better than most that her dreams were not simple fantasies but a grave warning. Her very mortal soul was at stake and the only people who could protect her from the forces of darkness were the men Dominick would lay his life down for. Silently, the young man, whose chin is covered in dark stubble from hours sitting before candle-light writing, snaps the journal shut. He had to find his beloved and bring her before the Elders. Wordlessly he swept through the bell tower that had been converted into his personal quarters. It was a modest room a bed against the far wall where one of the few remaining windows stood tall and intact- just so he could look out during the night and watch the stars above. Beside his unkempt bed sat a small bedside table littered with papers, a worn Bible and a single strand of rosary beads. They had been his mothers and they were the very last remaining shred of her he had left. They never left his side, save for when he grew tired after sitting at the bedside table pouring over his notes in the hopes of finding out the truth. The truth about their nightly tormentors and a way to rid them from the face of the Earth. Where once there had been magnificent bells, large and grand, set to ring each morning and each evening after mass, now sat empty and lonesome. They had fallen, been melted down or scrapped to sell for the much needed medical supplies. He spares but a momentary thought for the lost but lingers only a more moment- he has more pressing matters than lamenting over missing church bells. Silently he moves down a pair of crumbling wooden stairs. The unsightly holes from attacks launched against the still standing monolith, allowed the elements to batter down the once tall vaulted ceilings. Desperately the roof needed to be repaired but with supplies and a workforce in such short supply- there was little he could do save for daydream about things that may never come. Each step he took caused an agonized moan from the weathered wood as he put his full weight down. It would likely not be long until the stairs gave way and sent the righteous man of God, tumbling to his death below. However, the young Brother felt no fear as he descends into the heart of the crumbling church- his mind is elsewhere, occupied only with thoughts of her and of her dreams. But upon reaching the airy interior, his gaze shifts to the gathered mass of inhabitants. His chocolate gaze searches the melancholy faces of the few remaining free mortals left in their world in the hopes of finding his beloved. Tirelessly he searches the throng of people, hoping to spot her amongst the hustle and bustle of the supper rush. They, his people, his flock, filled every available space the crumbling church had to offer. Before this Gothic marvel had once stood proud. The ornate stonework of the flying buttresses and sinister gargoyles just outside now was little more than a safe haven. The Brotherhood, those devoted to training their bodies and slaughtering the night creatures, had found this lonely house of worship. Originally their Knight-Commander had deemed it unsafe for the refugees- how could they survive in a place where the floors and walls crumbled and gaping holes exposed the interior of the church to the elements? Dominick had petitioned fervently that they allow the Elders to decide and decide they had. Originally their decision had been a fifty-fifty split until evidence was brought forward that the ground had been, in fact, made hallowed. It was a haven for those looking to hide from their Masters or a place where one might be able to feel safe- if only momentarily. The memory fades as various chatter echoes through the massive room, drawing his eyes back to his search. All around him he sees the same thing women wearing hand knitted shawls over a simple cream-colored blouse and a long brown skirt, skitter about to offer food to the elderly and sick first. The men, the majority of them dressed in similar attire, however in lieu of the long modest skirt, they wear wool trousers. Many of their faces are downtrodden, and lines etch deeply into their flesh from countless days and nights of worry. Children, despite the horrors of the world outside their sanctuary, run and play happily. There are fewer, the holy knight mutters to himself as he can count a small handful of children dotted throughout the crowd. He begins to silently question where the mass of youth might be but realization strikes him like a bolt- he knows where Catherine is. She, his light, was gentle of heart and often spent much of her free time, when not trying to heal the sick or wounded, taking care of the orphaned children. She knew better than most what they felt- the lack of a loving touch from their mothers hand, the sanctuary their fathers hugs offered, and the lullabies that hushed them when their nightmares woke them from sleep. She knew. And it was out of this familiar longing that she fostered them when she could. She would make a good wife, a good mother. Moving through the crumbling marble hallways, filled with fallen candelabra and chunks of stone, his mind is left to wonder. He has so many questions about the future- questions that only time will answer. Their lives, all who lived beneath the churchs roof, lived with only the promise of that very moment. While Dominick cared for all of his flock, Catherine was his pride and joy. Not knowing the outcome with the Elders made the young brother frightful for her uncertain future. With another heaved sigh, the young man moves like a shadow through tall arched doorways and past shattered stained glass windows to where he knows his love will be. Shed be in the inner courtyard, sitting amongst the children, allowing their fingers to weave small white and yellow flowers into her flowing raven locks. He had asked her one time why she allowed the children to tug and pull at her fine tresses, and in her gentle way, she said Because they need to be children. Allow them to play, to frolic and forget the horrors of the outside world. There is no harm in what they do Dominick. Let them simply be children again, imagining the world is beautiful and safe.' Her words were sincere and it was that sincerity that cut him to the bone and made him wonder if the horrors of the outside world had changed him into one of the unfeeling monsters he so fervently hunted. It was always her kindness, her way of seeing the goodness where only blackness existed that made him love her so completely. Silently as he could, he approached the open archway leading into the inner courtyard- the door having long since been ripped from its hinges and set to rest against the opposite wall. Even before entering he could hear the boisterous laughter of children- she had to be there. And there she was. Sitting amongst them like an angel of healing, excitedly gesturing with her hands as she told a small group of children a tall tale. His approach caused her wide sapphire gaze to flick up towards him and she beamed. As if entranced, the young Brother stopped in his tracks, finding his breath was caught in his throat as she watched him. The children watched her, enraptured until they too turned their attention to the fearsome looking man. After a small eternity of simply gazing at one another, Dominick clear his throat anxiously, finding his voice much weaker then he intended.Catherine, he greets, dipping his head in a small display of respect. Brother Dominick, she responds with a teasing grin that tugs at the corners of her full, pillowy lips. The Elders must speak with us. Please, he turns to leave, pausing only to look over his shoulder briefly, follow me. The children around her begin to fuss, clinging to the only maternal figure they had, begging her not to go. They plead and some resort to false tears. Cruel, manipulative little things Dominick thought darkly as he concealed himself against the wall just outside the doorway, arms tightly folded of his broad chest as he waits impatiently for his beloved to soothe their noisy clamor. You know I would not leave you all unless it was important, her disembodied voice cooed gently to them, I will return when I can. I promise you. In the meantime, see who can make the most flower crowns, the winner could very well receive a special treat. This bargain seemed to be enough to prompt the children to scatter. They moved about the overgrown inner courtyard excitedly, their delicate little fingers plucking up as many of the wildflowers as they could find. Catherine looked on as the children scurried about, watching how their faces lit up as they picked the common flora. With the children now distracted, busily constructing rudimentary crowns, the young woman stood slowly. Her joints and stiff bones ached, not because of old age but rather because she had simply let time escape her and she'd not known how long she had been sitting in the same position. Quickly she dusts off her long brown skirt, ensuring that none of the wild grasses or dirt clung to her she was meeting important people and it was detrimental she looked her absolute best. Stepping through the threshold, the young woman turns her head to regard her husband-to-be, even as he mumbles something beneath his breath, I spoil them just as I spoil you. She quips in reply to his muttered response, content to see the surprise spread across his features as he had believed she'd not heard him. You do spoil them, Catherine, Dominick sighs, pushing himself off the wall to stand beside his love. No, she shakes her head and intertwines her fingers with his, I keep them hopeful and ignorant of the outside world. They have already lost much, they need not lose their innocence too. The Brother simply sighs, seeing no point in trying to argue the naivety of her statement, Come, the Elders await to hear from you. The meeting had been scheduled the previous evening, just before the evening Mass. Dominick had gone to the Elders earlier that day, stating that the devout woman was having horrific dreams- sinful dreams and that she needed their aid in ridding herself of. Originally, this had all been unknown to Catherine and when her fiance told her what he had decided without her, the young woman was rightfully furious. When she had first come to Brother Dominick with her frightful dreams, she had begged him to keep the information only between the two of them. She had feared that something malicious was attempting to worm its way into her heart and mind and it was because of this that she feared a confession- Catherine despised the Elders and rightfully so. It had not been uncommon for the old men, shrouded in their black robes to receive similar cases by innocent men and women with similar concerns. Usually, after determining the likely cause of the confessors' affliction, the Elders played judge, jury and frequently, executioner often sentencing those afflicted with dark dreams to exile outside the protective walls of the hallowed Church or worse to be burned at the stake for relations with Lucifer. However, Dominick had managed to convince his lover that she would be in safe hands, the Elders would know how to soothe her tormented soul and offer her the peace that she so desperately sought. Did you hear me? The soft trill of her voice drew the young man from his quiet brooding, Yes, I did, he lied. Watching her, watch him, he saw her face twist in annoyance, Then what did I say? Quickly he opened his mouth to respond, trying to think of something only his Catherine would say but when his silence expanded longer than she thought appropriate, she sighed and with her free hand, pinched his cheek, Lying is unfit for a Warrior of God Dominick. What would your fellow knights say about such habits. Gently he pulled his cheek free from her grasp and offered her a genuine smile as they made their way through the church, That I am human too and I have my faults. At this, the young woman shook her head, sending her long raven tresses bouncing behind her. The moment passed and a somberness fell over the two as they entered in through another high arching doorway which led them further in. Do you think they will sentence me to death? For being a witch or giving my soul over to the Father of Lies? Dominick quickly comes to a stop to regard his beloved, turning her to face him as he speaks, No, I would never allow them to. There was such conviction in his voice but Catherine sighed, You are a dog of the church, my love, and when your Masters tell you to bite, you bite. What could one man do against a whole army? Quickly he opened his mouth to protest but she shook her head, her hand raising to gently cup his rough jaw, nothing. There would be nothing you could do if the Elders deemed it was safer that I perish. A muscle began to tick in his jaw at the very thought of losing her- he would suffer hell to keep her safe. She was right though but even with the weight of her words, Dominick would never allow harm to befall her- ever. Slowly the two descended further down into the belly of the church. Where there had been warm sun and the sound of birds tweeting excitedly, the world around them grew damp, cold and musty. Torchlight illuminated the way down through the hidden catacombs. The walls were lined with the skeletal remains of holy men, their bodies shrouded by thick cobwebs and dust- God only knew how long that this secret crypt had existed. Catherine had never liked coming down to the Elders- why had they decided to hide so deeply beneath the Earth amongst dead saints and priests? Her question remained both unspoken and unanswered as the two were stopped by twin figures at the entrance doors of the Elders' chamber. What business have you with the Elders? One's voice boomed, We were summoned by the Elders to arrive at supper to discuss a sickness of the mind. Despite being unable to see their faces, the young woman could feel their eyes boring into her as if they were trying to withdraw some hidden agenda even she did not know about. For a moment no one spoke and the soft crackle of fire was their only companion. You may enter. The heavy double doors that had barred them from entering opened slowly by unseen forces. Inside was a larger room, circular in shape and similar in all regards to the hidden crypt. Against the far wall, on a platform stood eight men cloaked in black robes. None of their features could be clearly made out from that distance but Catherine could feel their eyes watching her as they drew slowly closer. When the two had reached the bottom step, both kneeled before the hooded figures and bowed their heads low in a display of respect. Brother Dominick, you have come to us in search of knowledge for one who you love. You state that she is afflicted with vivid nightmares of an angel who seeks to corrupt her. Is this true? Croaked a voice directly before them. Both kept their heads bowed, Yes, was all the brother said. No one spoke a word for what felt like another small eternity. Finally, another croaking voice spoke, Raise your heads and recount this dream, Catherine. Despite their demands, as the young woman opened her mouth to speak, she found she had no voice. Her delicate figure quaked beneath their scrutinizing glares- she was frightened. Recount your nightmares or we shall be forced to- I've a written document that goes into detail about her dreams your holinesses. Allow this to be her testament. Catherine silently looked towards the bowed head of her lover, wordlessly thanking him for risking himself to protect her. The eight men say nothing at first, before finally one of them warbles Produce the written testimony Brother Dominick and we will deliberate whether it is sufficient. From the folds of his robes, the young man withdraws his leatherbound journal and presents it to the mass. For several minutes the men pour over the writings, muttering silently to themselves, leaving the two figures before them wondering what they might be discussing. Finally, after ten grueling minutes did another ancient voice croak, Raise Catherine. This time, she did as demanded of her, her hands wringing anxiously in her lap. You say that your dreams are always the same. That they consist of the graveyard, the roses, and the angel. Is this correct? She nods but does not speak, And you say that you fear this angel yet you consider him your God? Again she nods and swallows hard, These dreams are frightful child, and to have acknowledged such things is blasphemous. Catherine swallows hard as she readies herself for a death sentence, We have agreed that these dreams are a sign from our All Might God in Heaven. Like Joseph, King of Dreams, you have been given insight into a world we can not see. For this reason, you are to be sent into the lion's den and extract information from the enemy. Do you understand what we speak of? Quickly the woman shook her head and began to open her mouth. Just as she had, Dominick was standing, his hands balled into tight fists. No! You are not sending her into hell! The young woman had absolutely no idea what the Elders spoke of or why Dominick protested passionately about this topic but she feared that she would know soon enough. She is a woman! A woman with no experience in the field. She's not been trained on any facet of our Order. You are sending an innocent- How truly innocent is she Brother Dominick? In your writing, you yourself state that you fear she has already been corrupted by this Dark Angel. You are blinded by your emotional connection to her, we have decided and our word is final. Catherine, you will be escorted by five warriors of our choosing. Your task is simple. You will infiltrate a powerful house of vampiric aristocracy and learn the secrets of this house. Each new moon you will meet in secret with one of our Order and report back to him your findings. If you are ever exposed, you will subject yourself to whatever torments your body is forced to endure. You will not speak or our Order and you will not expose our location. Is this understood? I-I... Catherine stammered dumbly as she began to slowly piece together what her task was and just why Dom had objected to the idea so passionately. She had only ever heard the tales told by the Brotherhood, namely Dominick, about the creatures that they hunted. She knew of their treachery, their, quite literally, bloodthirsty ways and it was this limited information that frightened her. Humans, to them, were little more than food- a commodity to buy and sell as they pleased. They, all the inhabitants inside of their crumbling sanctuary, were the last free outcropping of humans within a hundred mile radius in any direction and yet, they were condemning her to a fate worse than death, all because of a dream?! Your holinesses, please, reconsider, Im begging you! Catherine isnt like us, she knows little of the world, little about our enemies but from tales, tales Ive told her. Send me in her stead, we cant- We had considered sending you Brother Dominick but you are well known to our enemy. This woman, one of them hissed, lifting his hand to jab a bony finger at the trembling woman, is new to them. Where others have tried and failed, perhaps her unassuming appearance and ignorance will serve her well. There was a note of finality in the Elders voice and while Dominick intended to fight tooth and nail to dissuade the senile old men in sending his dearly beloved into the arms of the enemy, he knew better than to fight the powers at be. The two bowed their heads in acceptance and without another word, they quietly ascended the winding stone stairs out of the catacombs. When the warm evening sun caressed their skin as they emerged from the darkness, Dominick looked to his companion to search her face. What he saw instantly had his otherwise icy heart, splintering for his beloved. Silent tears streamed down her pale cheeks as her eyes searched the heavens and her fingers had gone to her neck where she could still feel her angels teeth. The fiery Brother said nothing as he extended his arms to her in comfort and took her into a fierce hug- hoping against hope that she might find some solace. However, when he enveloped her in his loving arms, his Catherine began to sob mournfully. She had thought surely the Elders would sentence her to death but this was beyond her worse nightmares- they were sending her into the pit of demons so that they might tear her innocent flesh asunder. I wont let you go, Dominick whispered into his loves hair as she sobbed into his robes, tightening his hold on her, Ill find a way. But even Catherine, blindly faithful, could not believe this lie no matter how she wished to. I am frightened Dominick, her voice barely above a trembling whisper I am so frightened. And she had every reason to be. Dominick knew that even he, after all his extensive training, had been little more than a whimpering child when face to face with the beautiful devils. Yet she, his beautiful, gentle Catherine was expected to fight an enemy she knew little to nothing about. Life was cruel and in this instance, God was crueler. Hours ground by as the sun slowly began to descend over the distant blue mountains, painting the skies in hues of fiery orange, yellow and frightening crimson. It looks like blood Catherine thought darkly as her azure irises watched the sky mournfully. Dominick had left her alone, allowing her to be alone with her thoughts and collect a few personal belonging. She hadnt moved from the window seat since he had left her, the black and white rosary beads he always carried, sat in her hands as her long digits fingered the glass beads anxiously. Would she ever return these to him? The memory of their brief conversation replayed in her head as she finally tore her gaze away from the sky to look down at the holy necklace wrapped around her palm. Take these with you. They have given me strength when I felt only fear. They will protect you and they will be my promise to you that I will come for you as soon as I am able. I will save you. I swear to God I will. How she wished in that instant to believe his words, even as fresh tears ran down in her cheeks. If trained warriors like the Brotherhood had not survived vampiric encounters- how would she? With a shuttering sigh, Catherine turned her face back up towards the ominous looking sky and as she did so, she desperately tried to memorize the way the sun had felt on her skin earlier that afternoon when she had taken it for granted. As she sat there, gnawing at the inside of her cheek until she tasted the sharp coppery flavor of her blood, she wondered if she would ever feel the suns gentle kiss on her cheeks or see the sun rise again. For another ten minutes she was left to her own devices and when the heavy knock at her door made her jump and look towards the noise with wide, wild eyes, she knew it was time for her to leave the only place she had ever called home. Two men walked in, dressed in spotless silver armor, the majority of their faces shrouded by their helmets. A small garrison awaits to take you to your destination Lady Tepes. We must hurry. Swallowing hard, the young woman nodded and rose from the window seat, leaving behind her personal mementos and trinkets- they would do her no good in a world of living nightmares. Instead, she simply slipped the rosary beads over her head and concealed them within the folds of her clothes, grabbing an ebony cloak as she departed her personal quarters for the last time. Soundlessly, the band of warriors encircle their ward as they descended the stairs to the airy hall, where the massive twin doors to the church stood bared against intruders and monsters alike. Upon entering, the sound of their echoing footsteps filled their ears as they marched towards the churchs exit. A few remaining people stood and watched the procession in curious contemplation, the few remaining children pulling on their parents clothes with a thousand question. There at the door stood Dominick, in his own plated silver armor, his shoulder-length hair swept back into a loose ponytail to keep any stray hairs out of his face. The band stopped and the Knight-Commander, Brother Valentine stepped forward. You were not chosen by the Elders to escort the woman, Brother Dominick. Return to your quarters or make yourself useful elsewhere. The young mans gaze was set into a cold scowl and when he answered, all were surprised at his defiance. I will not! Hell be damned if I am to let my fiance walk into the den of dragons, alone. I will face punishment when I return but I will accompany her and there is nothing any of you can do to stop me. It was at this that Catherine wove her way through the throng of armor-clad bodies to stand before her love. Please, she breathed gently, shaking her head weakly, tears still brimming her fathomless ocean eyes, I have made my peace with my fate, do not subject me to more torments. I could not willingly walk into hell knowing that the one thing I will continue to live for, was harmed because of me. The young Brother begins to protest but the dark-haired beauty shakes her head slowly back and forth, Please Dominick, do this for me. The pleading in her tone is enough to make a lesser man crumble to his knees. Reluctantly, the young Knight lifts his hand to where her delicate hands pressed to the side of his face lovingly, Please be safe, he whispers, leaning into her to press his forehead against hers. In the silence between them, Dominick drinks in the sweet smell of her perfume, the way her skin feels against his and her warmth. God only knew when he might be able to see her safe again. Lady Tepes, hisses the Knight-Commander, his voice dripping with annoyance at the lovers farewells, we must not terry further. Reluctantly the two stepped away from each other Catherine back into the throng of armored bodies and Dominick pressed lightly to the threshold of the doors. With a hideous groan, the twin doors that had acted as an effective barrier between the monsters just outside their door and their safe haven opens slowly. As the band of warriors began to move through the doors, Catherine surrounded by their glittering plate armor, a foreboding feeling settles into the pit of her stomach. She knew, somewhere deep down, that this would be the last time she would look upon her beloved crumbling cathedral and all the people she had come to call family. For several hours, the band clad in silver and their ward marched through the desolate forests for a destination, unlike anything Catherine had ever seen. The world, as it stood, was devoid of most life. The local flora had overgrown most of the formerly established cities, nature reclaiming what it had always rightfully owned. The fauna had scattered or simply disappeared out of fear. Both predator and prey alike innately knew that the ultimate monster stalked through the world, unrestricted, killing as they pleased. Youve not spoken a word since our leaving Lady Tepes, why so silent? Brother Valentines voice cut through the suffocating silence like a knife through flesh. What is there to say that has not already been spoken? Catherine questioned, keeping her gaze forward as they stalked through the black, misty forest where shadows clawed and creatures watched with mirror-like eyes. Perhaps you have questions? Or do you simply agree to go to your death so willingly? His smug tone had the young woman finally tear her gaze from the swirling mist path to regard the brother with a murderous look. I did not willingly choose to walk into deaths arms, Brother Valentine. Perhaps you might go in my stead so that I might continue to hide within the safety of the hallowed walls of our Church? Valentine simply snorted, Sharp tongue for one who might die. Catherine said nothing more, not even as he continued his childish antics and tried to elicit another response from her. For another hour they walked, the hour well past midnight when the first lights of a distant home came into view. It stood grand and foreboding- as if it were some hulking monster, quietly breathing and waiting for its next victim to fall into its web. The sight caused all in attendance to halt and look towards the flickering torches and then to the surrounding village. That, your highness, mocked Valentine, is where you will be residing until we come to fetch you. Catherine looked at at the distant home and in the pit of her stomach, she felt a familiarity the likes of which shed never known- at least in the waking world. The castle, she muttered to herself, causing all in attendance to look at her with quizzical glances. Beg pardon? One of the knights finally voices the unspoken question. The answer that they received from the young woman was less than satisfactory, Its- she began, then decided that it was better if she said nothing, -nothing Brother Alexander. Valentine snorted, Your gracious host is holding a gala. Some of the most powerful monsters in this world will be there Lady Tepes, he nodded towards the home, remember, dont draw attention to yourself. Your precious Dominick isnt here to save you should you forget your place. Mind your tongue, it could get you into trouble. All has already been arranged with a contact inside- you are to masquerade as a servant beneath the Lord in his household. When we part, go to the back entrance. You will find a fresh pair of clothes and a woman by the name of Anna Marie. She will instruct you further. Catherine only nodded and swallowed the growing lump of nerves that had closed her throat. This is where we leave you, the kinder voice of Brother Alexander caused the young woman to finally turn her gaze towards him. In return, she nodded and attempted to smile but in the end, all could see that her eyes were wide with terror. Valentine snorted and turned to leave, the small band of men falling in tow behind him, all but Brother Alexander who remained by his charges side. Listen, he began, turning to face her and place his armored hands on her shoulders comfortingly, Youve got to breath. They will hear your heart. You will be found out before you are even in the presence of the Lord of the Manor and all of this will be for not. Catherine nodded but found that she couldnt find her voice- what he suggested was far easier said than done. She had never come into contact with the living nightmares and had only ever heard tales of their cold cruelty any man in his right mind would be fearful. It was the gentle touch of Alexanders fingers that drew her attention back towards his kind face, The Lord will protect you during this trial. Remember, always have faith in Him and He will guide you through the worst of tribulations. The young mans kindness instantly brought Catherine to tears again- she did not want to leave but she knew it was her duty. The Elders had spoken and their word was final. Quickly she sniffled and wiped away her tears, her hands still trembling as she reached up to touch the kind boys face, Thank you, she murmured, you have been kind. Be safe on your travels home Brother and may God watch over you as well. The youngest of the Order beamed and nodded, finally turning away to catch up with his company, leaving Catherine to stand alone in the gloom while her heart thundered in her ears- deafening her to the world around her. For several minutes, she simply stood and gazed at the looming structure, desperately trying to conceal the frantic beating of her heart. A trembling hand lift to clutch the hidden rosary beads concealed beneath her simple blouse. Finally, after whispering the Lord's prayer in the hopes that its familiar words would bring her comfort and clarity, did she begin her slow dirge towards her new home. Much to Catherine's surprise, just as Brother Valentine had said, an older woman dressed in a long cotton dress and white apron waited. Her hair was piled high up on her head and held back with a simple black pin that glittered beneath the pale moonlight. The closer the young woman drew, did her horror begin to surface- all along the woman's throat and shoulder were hideous scars where the monsters had bitten into her flesh. Lovely ain't they? The crone laughed humorlessly, Courtesy of the Master's guests and visiting nobility. Say they like the older vintage- better aged. The dark haired woman tore her eyes away from the gruesome scars and bowed her head shamefully, F-Forgive me, she stammered, I did not intend to stare. The older woman shook her head, If I were in your position, I'd have the same reaction. It was this that caused Catherine to lift her head and offer a weak smile, T-Thank you. No need ta be thankin' me, just tellin' ya it's natural. Although- she paused, stepping forward, her eyes searching the young woman's exposed throat, Someone's bound ta notice you've not got the marks. If you're asked, make sure ya lie and say they're elsewhere. Course, might not do ya much good- the Master likes the youngins and ya fit his type. Just keep your head down and don't react to anythin' ya see. Alright? Through the entire conversation, Catherine had hardly breathed, even as she took the armful of clothes that Anna Marie had shoved into her arms. This isn't going to work, she stammered, clenching her hands into fists, H-He'll notice something is wrong. I-I'm new to this entire world. I-I can't- her words were silenced quickly by a strong, wrinkled hand clasping tightly around her mouth. Now ya listen to me girl, I didn't risk my neck ta have you curl up into a ball. Just follow my lead, alright? I won't let anythin' to bad happen to ya. The raven-haired woman felt a sense of ease at the matronly woman's words but there had been a phrase that had caught her attention. '...To bad happen to ya.' For the youth, this meant that there would be pain, inescapable pain that might have her sobbing but otherwise alive. Slowly, the older woman releases her charge and steps back, Now change into your clothes- been gone too long and some people will notice. Without another word, Anna Marie turns and steps through a back door, which Catherine can see leads into a well-lit kitchen. At first, she thinks nothing of this oddity but as she strips herself of her familiar clothes and shimmies into the fitted servant's dress and starched apron, does she begin to ponder why the beasts would need such a luxury as a kitchen? She lets the thought fade as she ties back a part of her hair in a satin ribbon and dons the black slippers that had been folded into her clothes. Taking one last slow inhale of the crisp night air does she turn and step through the door which Anna had disappeared into only moments ago. What she is greeted with are servants everywhere- women like her, dressed in similar attire and men in fine black suits, the likes of which she'd never seen. The tables and countertops are lined with bottles, their contents a mystery. Beside them are several exquisite serving trays. Atop the trays sit glittering crystal goblets and inside of the goblets sit a thick red liquid- it is easy to see that what the glasses hold is not wine. It is this knowledge that has bile rising into Catherine's throat and her hands clutching her stomach in an effort not to vomit. From beside her, a voice whispers, You'll get used to it soon love, first-timers usually faint at the sight of all that blood. You're doin' a lot better than I expected. Follow me and stay close. The dark-haired woman does not object and says nothing as she is handed a serving tray- the smell of blood wafting up into her nose, instantly causing her stomach to twist and turn. The two leave the safety of the kitchen and ascend a small set of stairs that lead up into a grand hallway. Crystal chandeliers glitter above their heads and royal crown modeling decorate the walls- in comparison to her crumbling church, this Master's home was lovely beyond measure. The two make their way steadily towards two heavy wooden doors. Even from outside Catherine can hear the trill of violins and the soft tinking of a piano. Two beautiful men, devoid of facial hair, their hair slicked back behind their ears, open the doors to reveal a glittering ballroom that draws the saintly woman's breath from her lungs in a stunned gasp. All around her are men and woman of disgusting, ethereal beauty. The men are dressed in hand-tailored suits- precious gemstones adorn their neckerchiefs and cuffs. The woman having draped themselves in fine silks and satin to match their partner's pocket scarves and vests. Around their necks glitter similar jewelry, once again matching their partners. The brilliant facets sparkle and catch the light as they whirl round and round the ballroom gracefully. This way, Anna Marie whispers softly, quickly drawing her charges' attention as she had stared for far too long. Silently she leads the younger woman to stand towards the back of the room beside where a small throng of partygoers sit and watch the dancers sweep across the polished marble floors. Don't move and keep your eyes down to the ground. Remember, you're a servant here, not a guest. Anne Marie murmurs to Catherine as she looks to the girl whose eyes scan the unearthly beauty before. With a slow nod, she drops her blue gaze down to the spotless marble floor beneath her feet, tray resting at breast height. Yet even as she swallows and an attempts to will her heart to slow its riotous thundering does the knowledge that she has willing walked into a den of monsters, disappear. Had these people, these nobles been the horrid monsters that Dominick had told her about? Were they truly as vile as the Church claimed? As her eyes shifted to the tray of crystal goblets filled with blood, does sickening realization settle into her stomach again- yes, despite their angelic features and impressive wealth, they were all still damned creatures doomed to the pits. Pandora-Original Character excerpt The sounds of rattling chains accompanied the low hum of the bustling slave market. It was commonplace here amongst the captured rabble and the degenerates. The soft cacophony of moans, pleas, and boisterous sales pitches had become the drone of her life. How lovely her own torment was when combined to the symphony of the damned. The metallic jingle of metal as limbs strained against unbreakable bonds denoted that the body trapped by the heavy iron manacles continued to struggle in a losing battle. Those same thick bindings twisted and coiled around a lone, lithesome figure like Pythons ensnaring their prey. The silvery serpents cold and unfeeling for their violent captive. Beneath their tangled mass of wriggling body, a single woman hung suspended by her petite wrists and ankles. She was an unimpressive five foot something. What strength she did possess had long since left the wiry muscles that were hidden beneath her flawless ivory flesh. She was a delicate, beautiful thing but otherwise unremarkable save for the gnarled horn that sprouted from beneath her unkempt lilac mane. Many would mistake her for a unicorn. Those gentle, kind beasts that frolicked the wilds of the European countryside. This mysterious woman with her teal eyes and her mouth covered by a leather muzzle was no such thing. She and her kin were of similar ancestry, evident by her fair visage and horn but it was her mannerisms that differed greatly. Those long, distant cousins were the proverbial yin to her yang. The gentleness to her violence. Where those of her extended family may have been free to meander through the slavers shop, unbound, she was not. She had proved time and time again that she did not know restraint. Did not know gentleness. The frail woman with her voluminous lilac locks and intense burning gaze did not understand kindness nor would she pretend to wear a mask that did not suit her. Minutes ticked by like hours as she continued her feeble escape attempts. If only she could find the weakest link, give it a hard yank and set herself free. Freedom would be sweeter won when she watched the shitbag across the room die. That thought alone had her heart burning with her sick desire. Those violent, deadly thoughts were the only thing that kept her struggling despite the hopelessness of the situation. Would you stop that ruckus! The thick Scottish accent cut through the air like a hot knife through butter, stilling the Karkadann for a fraction of a second before she resumed her previous, incessant chain rattling. If he had simply kept his mouth shut, the young woman would have stopped eventually of her own accord. Knowing that it bothered him, she didnt intend to stop in the foreseeable future unless he did something to stop her. To prove her defiance, the young woman balled up her small fists and gave the chains several rough yanks which caused them to rattle and jingle again. She did this three time in rapid secession, stopping only when the lardo jumped up onto his feet and crossed the short span separating them. Thats right, move closer , she thought darkly to herself as he was only inches from her, - teach me a lesson . Youre really testin my nerves lass. Do et again and Ill make ye regret it. Will you now? Her soft voice hissed from behind the muzzle, An what do ya have planned? Beatin me? Maybe breakin some bones? Way I sees et Patty, I got nothin to be afraid of. Yer all talk an no bite. The slave remained completely still as he weighed his options. It would be so easy to quiet that smart mouth of hers with a well-placed knock across the face but did he take that risk? Go on ya knob! Hit me! Unless yer wifes got yer balls locked away in er purse ya pussy! That was all the coaxing that dear Patty had needed. With lightning speed, the hand that had been balling up at his side collided square with the side of Pandoras face. She had made no noise immediately but after a moment the sound of muffled laughter erupted from behind the muzzle. That all you got!? She mocked with a snicker while she looked up into seething brown eyes challengingly My gran packs more of a wallop than you! Try again Patty! Patty stilled again. He was doing everything in his power to refrain from beating the bitch's face to a bloody pulp. Who was she anyway?! She was the one who was strung up like some marionette. She had been the fuckwit who'd gotten herself caught after offing some old geezer. She was a nobody! 'Hit me again ya cunt! Or ya fraid to get yer hands dirty? That had been the straw to break the camels back. Patty wasn't about to fight some mouthy twat, at least not with her strung up like Christmas lights. He said nothing as he fished around in his tweed trousers for the key to her shackles. When he finally produced it, he quickly unlocked both the locks on her wrists and one of her feet. He may have been in a blind rage but he wasn't completely stupid. Pandora initially lay completely still on the first floor beneath them, until Patty decided to taunt her, What, ya fraid now? Go on, get mouthy- The slaver hadn't been able to finish before Pandora launched herself at him. To say that the stout man was taken by surprise would have been an understatement, even as the two of them toppled to the ground. Ya fuckin' bitch!Howled the slaver, wild haymakers sailing through the air, only to connect with nothing. Pandora balled up her own fists, legs weakly clinging to the others figure as she too began to throw fists. Unlike her betters though, her small fists connected with his face- his nose, his lip twice and his throat once. Already the air was thick with the smell of coppery blood. This had been what she had been desperate for, what she had craved and that had been what got the better of her. The girl had been so infatuated with just watching the pig bleed that when she withdrew her hands to stare down at her own busted knuckles and the spotty blood that dotted her ivory flesh, did Patty take his chance and get the upper hand. The lardass used his weight against her. He thew his hips, rolling her onto her back as if she had weighed nothing. In truth- she didnt weigh much. The week that she had been here, in this God-forsaken slaver market, shed been given nothing to eat. Not so tough now, are ye? Came the growled hiss of her slaver, whose hands were already around her slender neck. Panic was already setting as she began to struggle for fresh air. Patty was much strong though and he saw fit that the more she struggled- the tighter his grip would be.What, no more smart comments? Cat got yer tongue? Patty mocked darkly as Pandoras world began to go dark. She couldnt let him win. She was Karkadann! A race that didnt back down from a fight and certainly didnt let fat hobgoblins like Patty get the better of them. Quivering finger reached and pawed around her for something, anything that could be used as a weapon. When her the pads of her fingertips brushed against one of the cool chains that had been used to secure her wrist, Pandora reached and strained until the chain was balled up tightly in her hands. Wildly she swung, with what little remaining strength she had. It was only she began to cough and her lungs sucked in mouthful after mouth of the humid New Orleans air did she figure out that Patty had rolled off of her . Weakly, she hoisted herself up onto her hands and knees, coughing a few more times until her teal eyes shot over to the writhing piss-ant. He was clutching the side of his head, crying and simpering like a wounded animal. Wordlessly Pandora collected the chain into her hands again but instead of going to strike him again, she straddled the lardass- looping the chain twice around his throat. He needed a dose of his own medicine. Not so funny anymore now is et? She wheezed, planting her feet on either side of his head and giving the chain all she had. To Your Hearts Content He chose her, Maleficent snarled from between tightly clenched teeth, over me?! Her reflection and quiet guardian, Deavil, were the only one's privy to her fury as she paced to and fro like a woman possessed. HER?! She bellowed again, her voice thundering through the empty hollows of her glorious castle that none could dare compare to. Violent green fire spouted from her fingertips and shot across the room to knock over her varying accouterments, sending them flying through the air to clatter to the marble floors with a deafening crash. That spoiled, spineless Princess! The daughter of that sniveling King Stephan!? She hissed again, stomping over towards her bedside table to collect the wedding invitation Deavil had so cleverly pinched upon his mission to learn of Prince Seamus whereabouts. The sight of the invitation had ignited inside of Maleficent a fury the likes of which shed never felt. Many of the denizens of her kingdom had hidden in fear when the skies had blackened and exploded in streaks of deadly lightning. None could calm her. How could they? Had her dear Seamus forgotten the nights theyd spent together, bodies joined as one? What pleasures shed shown him? How dare he have the audacity to forget she, the woman who had shown him her wonders! Maleficent came to stand before the large golden mirror opposite her bed. Reflective yellow-green eyes that shimmered like rich gemstones stared back at her- they were wild and burned with an anger that could not be quenched by tears or simple resolution. Her long dark hair had been released from its pins and ribbons to now fall limply down around her shapely backside and horns which sat at the crown of her head- curved and adorned with golden rings set with gemstones of superior clarity and beauty. Her skin, flawless and silky like fresh milk, seemed to catch the light and glitter as if pixie dust had been infused into the high points of her flesh. She stood a modest height- one that was taller than most girls but left her small enough to be considered a lady next to most men. The body that was hidden beneath the yards and yards of gossamer fabric was one that caused envy- what with her supple breasts and pert pink nipples, flat midsection, long slender legs, and provocative backside. Maleficent was nothing to scoff at and yet, she had been. As she stood there, staring at the tear trails that ran down the length of her face and her utterly dismal appearance, a wicked idea filled her mind. If she could not have the Prince, then neither would Aurora. No, the powerful Fae queen would not stoop so low as to sully her hands with unworthy mortal blood but she would ensure that her prince would see that she was the better match. It would take but a small push and she knew she had the power to do so. So, through the night Maleficent worked her magics and prepared for her unwilling guests. She ensured that all was ready before she readied herself in a costume she found befitting the wild, cruel rumors that had blossomed by way of Stephan and his wretched familys tongues. Yes, she would demonstrate to those pathetic townspeople, to Aurora and her family and even to her beloved, that she was what they feared- if only until her plot was complete. At that very moment, when Maleficent had raised her hands into the air to summon her magic and whisk her away to the fair Kingdom which belonged to Aurora- the archdeacon was giving his blessing upon the happy couple that was to be wed. Fair Aurora, with her lovely golden hair, porcelain skin and striking sapphire eyes, looked to her groom and beamed. She was unaware that the happiest day of her life was to be interrupted by one who had a right to be jealous. For now, she was elated and naive. Quietly, as the holy man continued speaking, the princess eyes fell down to that of her husbands hands- they were so lovingly clasped around hers, his hand strong enough to defeat even most vile villains but gentle enough to soothe her deepest troubles. Oh yes, her precious Seamus. Soon, she thought, a gentle smile turning up the corners of her rosy lips, Prince Seamus would be her husband and they could begin their fairytale happily ever after. If anyone should object, speak now or forever hold your peace. This had been the fateful words spoken which had called the greatest of Princess Auroras nightmares into attendance. At first, not a soul spoke, for all in attendance knew that the two were meant to be. However, before the Deacon could speak further, a terrible, howling wind erupt through the halls, extinguishing candles, sending the large crystal chandeliers swinging precariously overhead, and all in attendants holding each other in a feeble attempt to fight this mysterious gale. And then, as if summoned by hell itself, a long, familiar shadow approached through the open doors, her horns indicative of who this mysterious attendee was. The figure, dressed entirely in black marched easily through the crowd, a powerful air snuffing out the lights as she sauntered forward confidently. She did not waver or falter as the guests backed away, parting like a great sea. Its her, one squeaked. Its the witch. Maleficent, God, no. Mothers clung tightly to their children as the soft click of intimidating heels resonated through the high ceilinged room, steadily approaching the altar and then stopping just inches from the steps. The dark grin that the Fae Queen wore was hungry and the anger shed felt churning up her insides, flickered in her in gaze like a fire. Well, well, she cooed darkly, that twisted smile never leaving her red painted lips as she slowly ascended the stairs and a humorless laugh escaped her lips. What a beautiful wedding Prince Seamus, Maleficent was reveling in her dramatic entrance, more now that all eyes were on her. For a long pause, she said nothing as her attention diverted to that of lovingly caressing her favored companion, who sat perched atop the magnificent staff which shed constructed from a twig. Royalty, nobility, the gentry and she paused to turn her wicked gaze towards Aurora who seemed familiar with the witchs theatrics, another chilling cackle escaping from between her lips, how quaint, even the rabble. For a small eternity, a silence expanded through the great hall, Maleficent letting her enchanting yellow-green gaze flick from one face to another, hoping that one might be foolish enough to challenge her. Sadly, none did. I must say, I really felt quite distressed at not receiving an invitation. Auroras father, King Stephan, who had been standing off to the side was quick to respond with a venomous, Youre not welcome here. All the wickedness, the seething hatred, and jealousy drained from the Faes features as her gaze fell to the floor and she began to whimper as if the words had mortally wounded her. But, just as the act had begun, so too did it disappear and have Maleficent sniggering darkly, her eyes once more returning to that of Prince Seamus angelic features. Oh dear, what an awkward situation, she feigns embarrassment as she looked away again, cementing her wicked plot further, especially when Auroras mother spoke up in a quivering voice. Youre not offended? Ah, that had been the words that Maleficent had wanted to hear. Why, no, she teased, stepping closer to the Prince with that same malicious grin, and to show I bear no ill will, I too will give my blessing upon this happy union. Where there should have been a collective sigh of relief that the frightening witch did not intend on hurting dear Aurora or their beloved Prince Seamus, no one did. There was more to her words than met the eye and it would soon become clear why she would allow such an offensive union. Dividing her attention between the young Prince and his lovely bride, Maleficent smirked deviously as yellow-green magic began to pour out from her body like smoke. People collectively tugged their children tighter, others held their breath and Aurora resisted the urge to faint until it swept over her and where she had once stood now was naught but air. The entire assembly erupted into a hideous clamor that agitated Maleficents already raw nerves. How dare they, those lesser creatures dare make such a racket in her presence! Silence! She commanded in a booming voice that emulated the quaking roar of thunder. As per her command, everyone grew deathly silent, all but King Stephan whose face had turned a vibrant red. What have you done with my daughter?! Maleficent paused to grin impishly to herself, her long finger lovingly tending to her favored pet. Where is she?! The king demanded again, this time directing the Fae Queens full attention to him. She did not immediately speak but raised a singular finger to her lips- if he quieted, she would speak. She is safe, for the moment. You damned witch, I demand you- This caused a trill of wicked laughter to spill from the powerful womans red-stained lips, How truly imbecilic of you King Stephan. You hold no power here. Do not think that because you wear a crown you may give the orders and that I will obey? No, the one who holds all the power here she paused to step towards the Prince and brush the backs of her fingers against Seamus silky cheek. is that of your precious Auroras betrothed. Before the Prince was permitted to speak, Maleficent snickered and silenced any rebuttal, but it isnt as simplistic as wishing I return her. Stepping away, Maleficent turned towards her captive audience and delivered unto them a truly improper and immoral demand. Your beloved Prince has a choice- for one years time, the Prince will reside with me in my castle and he shall be my bed warmer when I choose, as often as I choose. If in that one years time he still loves his darling Aurora, I will free them both and shall darken their doorsteps no more. However, if our Prince declines this most generous offer, Aurora will remain with me and for the rest of her miserable days, she will endure tortures and pains unimaginable. He will come unattended and of his own free will or they both shall suffer a painful death. Turning again to face the Prince, Maleficent grinned, You have twenty-four hours, she waved her hand through the air. From the smokey yellow-green haze, a magnificent ivory hourglass formed. Around the glass wrapped vicious thorns, numerous red roses blooming among the deadly tapered tips- proving that beauty can grow under the harshest of circumstances. The sand contained within had begun to fall appeared at first glance as a deep red, but as it fell through the thin bottleneck, it turned the color of tar- signifying the steady tick of approaching demise. I await your arrival, Prince Seamus, and with a great clatter of her staff, Maleficent disappeared, her sinister laughter all that remained as all in assembly once more clamored with horror at the witchs shameful, lewd demands. For Maleficent, she stood within her bedchambers smirking wildly to herself. She had set into motion a test in which Seamus was doomed to fail. Oh, how she would bask in the knowledge that the people and her prize would assume the worst. Oh, how wonderfully, deliciously wrong they were. The Sun and the Moon Hush little baby, dont say a word, the sweet melody wafted through the air like the flowers in spring, sickly sweet and intoxicating but perverted only by the sharp tang of copper. Mothers going to buy you a- the song ceased abruptly and the only sound that filled the deathly quiet was the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of spilled blood. The girl child, clenched in her elder siblings arms, watched in wide-eyed horror as the ghostly figure floated weightlessly over the floor, like a deadly fog. Her long ivory gown immaculate, save for the long dashes of sanguine haplessly sprayed helter-skelter. Come out, come out, where ever you are, the beasts melodic voice cooed as gently as a mothers touch. The creature knew where her prey was but the fear that saturated their blood made them taste all the sweeter- just a little longer and they would be ripe. Just a small push more! Your mother, it sang jovially, sauntering over to the drained corpse to examine its expert handy work, put up a good fight. Shall I describe to you what she tasted like? Or, perhaps what she whispered into my ear as I drained from her, every very last drop of her blood? Neither child moved, but fresh tears streamed down their cheeks in unison as the last memory of their mother filled their innocent minds. She did not scream, didnt whimper or plead for her life, only that her children be spared. Such a loving mother, the monster cooed even until the end. What do you suppose she told me just before her heart stopped? Silence. A trilling laugh escaped from betwixt stained lips, She whispered how much she loved you both. How remarkable that the livestock thought of something other than its own pathetic life. No matter though, the woman finally stopped directly before a wardrobe which concealed her newest playthings, you will both see her again very soon, I promise. Violently the doors of the wardrobe were thrown open, immediately ripping from the girl child a shrill cry- they had been found. The eldest of the two, a boy not more than ten, stared defiantly up at the beast that had killed their mother and older brother. There, in the dim moonlight which filtered in through the gore-splattered window, both children could see her. A woman of ethereal beauty stood looming over them. Neither one of them moved or scarcely breathed- what did one do when staring down a monster built to kill as easily as it breathed. She was unlike anything they had ever encountered and something that neither would ever forget. Long blond hair hung limply around her trim waist and her alabaster flesh seemed to gleam like marble beneath the sickly pale light. Brilliant garnet eyes looked down a straight, narrow nose at the frightened youths, immediately causing the womans lips to part and reveal her predatory teeth. There you are, she sighed, feigning relief as she sank down to her knees and extended her arms, I feared for a moment you two might have run away. We wouldnt want that now, her eyes flicked between the two childrens face, now would we? Go back to hell where you belong, monster, the young boy hissed through his teeth, his arms protectively tightening around his sister, Im not afraid of you. The mock kindness that the fearsome woman wore as a mask melted away and in its stead was something far more sinister. My, my, she chirped, dropping her arms to her sides, her ominous crimson gaze fixated on the boy, apparently I did the world a favor when I dispatched dear mommy. Little brats like you deserve to be made an example of. White hot rage ignited itself in the child. He was prepared to die if it ensured that his baby sister continued to thrive even after he was gone. Then do it! He challenged, staring the creature down, Kill me! A furious snarl erupted from the monstrous countess, her own fury bubbling to the surface despite her otherwise cool demeanor after such blatant disrespect- how dare the food speak to her in such a way! He would pay! Him and the rest of his wretched family! They would all suffer for the crimes they committed against her kin! They would all perish! A sharp gasp tore the sleeping woman from a familiar nightmare she had had since her youth. One in which ended the same each time- in bloodshed and a vendetta. Damn it, her soft, timorous voice murmured to none but the dancing shadows cast by the soft flickering light of her small fire. Quietly the youth brought her knees up to her chest and her arms around her legs in a feeble effort to seek fleeting comfort. Forget, just forget! The woman coaxed as she clenched her eyes shut to ease her thunderous heart and the sickening twisting in her gut. She had to remember to breathe! Why? Why now of all times had those accursed dreams come to plague her sleeping mind? Could the past not just remain where it should be, in the past? With one last deep breath between her teeth, the huntress forced the memory back into the box shed stuffed it in so long ago and calmed herself as she listened to the world around her. Nothing. Absolutely nothing! No chirping of nighttime insects or the rustling of wild game as they foraged for food. Nothing but the weighted silence akin to a necropolis! No, the territory in which she traversed was devoid of all life, goodness, and light, gone because of they who ruled this domain. Those demons that hid behind the guise of an angel. Those beasts that dared to call themselves nobility and masquerade as benevolent rulers. Vampires. Swallowing the hard lump that had formed in her throat, Serena turned her gaze skyward, sending her thoughts to the heavens in the hopes that she would receive divine guidance. What she had endeavored upon was no simple search and destroy, it was of far more importance. No, the mission in which she was sent to fulfill and to prove her undying loyalty to the Hunters Creed, was to dispatch the Lord of the regions only son. This was no simple in and out- no, what she was expected to do was to garner the little Lords trust, allow him to think that she was some feeble willed human until she got close enough. Once he trusted her, she would strike like the spider she was. She would watch him die, gasping for air as she drove the stake further into his lifeless heart, satisfied only when he was nothing more than ash. How many times had she fantasized about killing that bastard? A hundred times? Enough to when she awoke from her vivid dreams of his destruction, she would march out of her hovel and straight into the creek. She would succeed where others might have failed and she would bring back his fangs as a trophy and testament to her triumph. Perhaps she would wear them on a chain around her neck. The thought alone of seeing the Night Creatures squirm at the sight of their beloved Princes fangs hanging round her neck had her visibly squirming. Maybe a dip in another cold creep somewhere would help temper her excitement. What remained of the night was spent in quiet contemplation- how would she secure a position in the little Lords service? Surely one as protected and coddled as he, had impossibly strict regulations in regards to his staff. Perhaps she might offer her blood to the creature as his personal blood bank? Was that how the false nobility and gentry fed? When morning did break and the first warm rays of the autumn sun kissed her skin, Serena climbed to her feet and made her way through the dense woods until they thinned and the walls of the great Vampire City towered over her like a giant. Silently as death, the huntress slipped through the gates unnoticed, expertly avoiding the watchful scrutiny of the sentries who remained vigilant. They, the armored guards, were traitors to their own kind. Human men and women who thought it better to kneel before a tyrannical Master than to die on their feet in defiance. They were the daytime warriors to their beloved monsters and in exchange, they were offered that which every mortal craved- a cure to death and fading youth. A lesser person might have considered these wretched souls to be something to pity but to her, they were no better than the beasts they served. With a low tsk, the thought was abandoned as the assassin navigated her way into the heart of the city, her eyes fixated on her next target the looming castle some distance off still. Beautiful, aint it, an unfamiliar voice greeted from beside her, immediately causing her to turn her gaze towards the offending party. It was a young woman, perhaps no more than eighteen, dressed in a simple cotton blouse and long black skirt. Her fiery red hair was tied neatly into a braid that fell down her back and her green eyes hadnt quite lost their youthful naivety. I suppose, Serena responded with a shrug, causing the young woman to laugh beneath her breath. Didnt mean ta startle you, just, saw ya starin at it so longingly. The darker haired woman said nothing in reply and instead, moved to lose the youth in the crowd. Im Dawn! Cried the stranger as she pursued, Sorry I didnt introduce myself, Im uh, not very good at the whole formality thing. Fathers forgiving when I forget! Again, Serena kept silent- her true name would reveal who she was, especially if rumor had already spread far enough about the sole surviving Bancroft Hunter. So, um, where ya headed? Came the irritating chirp from beside her- damn, hadnt lost her yet. An inn. Oh! So you are new! I thought so! I usually come to the market every morning to sell eggs or milk and you didnt look familiar to me, she squeaked excitedly, desperately trying to keep pace with the newcomer. And as luck would have it, I have a spare room to rent! Ya dont have ta pay rent unless ya can, I mean. You can help around the house and tend to the animals, even come to the market instead. There is far too much space for someone to be living alone. That comment caught Serena off-guard, halting her retreat to look back at the young woman and regard her with a quizzical stare. You live alone? She questioned first, finding it hard to believe after the mention of her father. And do you truly believe inviting a person youve never met, to stay, is wise? Dawn contemplated her answer for about half a second Well, probably not but youre a woman, how much harm could you really do? The comment was almost laughable and for a brief moment, one side of the Huntress mouth kicked up into a half grin. Poor, sweet, naive Dawn. And yes maam, I live all by myself. Have for about, mmm, six winters now. Father became a sentry to help pay for the expenses, so its just me. Wonderful, a vampire sympathizer, And your mother? The warmth that Dawn radiated faded and her eyes took on a longing not unfamiliar to the icy woman beside her, She died bringing me into this world. Serena almost visibly cringed- of course, shed touched a sore subject. Damnit. My, um, condolences, Serena mumbled, having always been terrible at comforting others. After all, from the time she was old enough to fight, shed not been coddled. She had grown up around men who were fashioned into deadly killers, away from compassion and more importantly, love. The Order had taught her that these emotions were for the weak and they could be used as a tool for the vampires to exploit- to give them this advantage, was certain death. I accept, came the begrudging mumble of someone who agreed only on the principal that she would be sleeping in a bed. Pardon? Dawn squeaked, eyes almost hoping shed heard correctly. I said, Serena straightened her back although kept her eyes pinned to an unoccupied spot in the market, I accept. The remainder of the day had been little more than pretending to blend in, learn the simplicity of Dawns day-to-day going on and settling herself into a bed barely big enough to fit two people, all while her mind raced with how she would sneak into the castle and dispatch their Prince. The Order specifically told her that this would not be as simple as there was little known about the inner machinations of the vampiric capital. It fell on her to do everything. Despite this, they still expected results. It was just after dusk had fallen did a soft knock at the door immediately roused the dosing huntress from her scheming. Straightening her blouse and smoothing the lines out of her own skirt, she pulled the door open and looked up to a beaming Dawn- of course. Pardon the interruption but I was wondering if youd like to accompany me. Where? To the castle. Come again? Serena had to ensure shed heard her new little friend correctly. Do you want to go to the castle, with, uhm, me? See my father just finished his sentry shift and seeing as you were staring so longingly at it this morning, I thought youd like to see it up close and personal. This had to be some cosmic joke, Are you certain its permitted? Dawn laughed and waved off her roommates concern, Of course it is! Perfect. Only if youre certain, Serena chirped, mock excitement painting her soft features, Yes, absolutely! Father will be so pleased to see someone else helping around the property! Im sure hell absolutely adore you. The walk to the castle had taken about twenty minutes. Not because it was a distance off but because the two could not walk more than three feet before someone stopped young Dawn and began to chat as if theyd not seen each other in a decade. It was maddening! It was wonderful seeing you again Mrs. Irving! Give your son my well wishes! Called the redhead as the two began to walk towards the castle entrance for the fifth time. She is such a kind lady. You know, just after my father left for this job, Mrs. Irving would come over with food to ensure that I didnt starve. She even taught me how to cook! Id think she was my mother if she wasnt old enough to be my grandmother. Dawn chuckled softly, reminiscing about her simpler youth. Serena only nodded in response as any spoken reply might have been a violent outburst. Thankfully, the remainder of the journey was peaceful and the two arrived safely to the towering castle gates where two armored guards waited. Immediately their reflective eyes dictated their race. They were now so close to the Dragons Den. Good evening Gerard, Issac, Dawn greeted warming, coming to stop in front of the two men with a megawatt smile, Good Evening Miss Tullas, visiting your father again? One of the men asked, his gaze fixated on the quiet woman to the redheads right. Its like you read my mind! She yelped excitedly, I even brought a guest. She beamed, looping her arm in with Serenas. At first response, the huntress wanted to pull away and demand she not be touched but despite every instinct screaming to pull away, she remained. The two men said nothing as they looked the unfamiliar woman up and down cautiously. They were right to mistrust her. This is Olivia York. Shes passing through to visit her family in Davenport. I actually ran into her at the market and thought that I could offer her a place to sleep for a few days. And her purpose here? She was staring up at the castle this morning like a little girl lost in a fantasy! You should have seen her! It was rather endearing. I thought I was the only one to do that. Embarrassment immediately colored Serenas cheeks as she was once again, described as some starry-eyed child dreaming about life in a castle. The two guards look at one another and snorted in reply- this newcomer clearly was no threat. Dont be long Dawn, one of them called after her as the two women past through the gates and headed towards the barracks. When the two were out of earshot, the darker haired woman withdrew her arm and huffed, trying desperately to contain her annoyance at being touched. Isnt this place beautiful? Looking up towards the ominous castle, the stone gargoyles perched high up on the flying buttresses, watching their every move, she could certainly see the appeal. If youre unafraid of what lives within its walls. This comment immediately caused Dawn to stop and regard her guest with a quizzical brow. Youre afraid of them? Afraid wasnt quite the word she would have used but it was a good stand-in. Terrified actually, she lied expertly. Aww! Olivia! Dawn cried, pulling the strange woman into a tight hug before releasing her but keeping her hands firmly on her shoulders, The vampires here arent like the ones out in the wilds of the country. The ones here are good, peaceful creatures that dont drink the blood of humans. They are trying to prove that they can be trusted. Not for an instant did the skilled hunter believe that well-constructed lie! Everything she had been taught, everything she had learned by way of painful lessons, had disillusioned her and she was still resolute in her single-hearted hatred for the beasts. Dawn was naive and far too trusting- this would be her downfall if she didnt wake up and realize the horrifying truth. Dont worry, the only vampire you might meet is our Prince. Dawn sighed dreamily beside her roommate, linking arms with her again, despite the other womans obvious discomfort. Serena balked at the longing sigh, You fancy him? Oh God, who doesnt?! Hes the epitome of masculine beauty and as gentle and loving as his father. Hes a man who any woman would be lucky to bed. Youre moonstruck, stop, its disgusting. Dawn laughed at her friends obvious disgust, You will be too, trust me! Once you see him, you wont want another man again. Serena found that incredibly hard to believe as she was tasked with his annihilation. The conversation ceased almost immediately when the two stepped through the threshold of the barracks. For Dawn, it was a familiar sighed that brought back some of her fondest memories. For Serena, it seemed almost similar to the Orders training barracks. The walls were lined with sharpened knightly swords and other comparable weaponry. However, where the majority of the sentry learned to fight with these, larger swords and flails, her company learned so much more. Dawn! A disembodied voice cried out eagerly, tearing the hunter from her quiet reverie, Papa! Came the equally excited yelp from the slender Dawn, who hastily withdrew from the other womans hold and instead ran into her fathers outstretched arms. The two embraced each other tightly for several minutes before stepping back and lovingly gazing at one another, It feels like ages since I saw you last! Let me get a good look at you child. Dawn could hardly keep herself still as her father gave her a once over and beamed, Just as pretty as I remember! Stop it! You know I hate it when you do that and its only been two days. The older man, with his salt and pepper hair, and short beard laughed jovially at his daughters protest, Howve you been love? Good, wonder, no great! I finally found someone to occupy our spare bedroom. She said shell help cook, clean and even hunt! Think of it father, a woman who hunts! Finally, the old mans cobalt gaze lifted towards the unfamiliar face in the room. You must be her then, he commented, moving to stand in front of the young woman with long dark ebony tresses and warm honey eyes James Tullis, he smiled, extending his hand, to which Serena took his hand and shook firmly. Olivia York from Berkshire, she replied with a forced smile, Pleasure to make your acquaintance sir. Last edited Mar 23, 2019