Chapter One: Very Bad People
26 Haventide, Anima 80, Age of Light
There were dangerous people out on a night like this, and she knew she was one of them. Her grey boots padded like rain through the trash and rot in the alleys. The dirge she hummed was loud in her head, but lost in the crash of the waves against the pier.
She knew she should be home, with the door barred and a bottle in hand. It was safer to drink the demons away than to let them out in the night.
desire. poison. judgement.
But the night was dark and she was restless. The hunger crawled in her veins like parasites. It was an intoxicating pull; the promise of more. She had put the bottle down and unbarred the door and stepped outside to play.
She pulled back the hood that cloaked her features and allowed her hair to spill around her shoulders. Her hands tousled her hair to make it look disheveled. She slowed her gait and added a subtle stagger when she reached the crossroads. Smiling to herself in anticipation, she rounded the corner.
A man was sitting on a crate outside a darkened shop. His only company was a bottle that he was in deep conversation with. A wharf rat; mugging, whoring, and worse until the next ship left port.
“Spare some change, miss?” he called, rising from his seat.
She kept her eyes on the road and kept walking.
“Or perhaps a kiss?” he said, making smacking noises and gestures at his crotch.
A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed she was alone.
He blocked her path. His arms were thick and his chest puckered the buttons of his stained shirt. “It’s dangerous for a young lady like you to be out alone at a time like this.”
She let out a small gasp and pulled her cloak around her.
He took a swig from the bottle and stepped towards her. “There are bad people out at night miss.”
“Please, let me pass. I just want to go home.”
The man reached out a hand and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Then you should’ve stayed home tonight.”
She tried to jerk her arm away, but his grip tightened. He flung his bottle to the ground and clamped the hand over her mouth. There was no scream; only the heavy thud of glass against the dirt road. He dragged her into an alleyway, her feet barely touching the ground. The air flew out of her lungs when he pinned her against the wall and smashed his hand tighter against her mouth and nose. He ran his other hand up her arm to her throat and wrapped it around the slim flesh.
“If you scream, I’ll snap your neck. Understand?” She nodded wildly and he released his hand from her face, tightening the one around her throat to make his point.
“Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone, please, I just want to go home.”
“First a lesson miss. On how there are very bad people who do very bad things.” His free hand snaked under her cloak and cruelly wandered across the fabric beneath.
She closed her eyes and inhaled. His breath was sour with cheap liquor. His body smelled of grease, saltwater, and anger.
The demons, who had been shadowing her hunt, now swirled around her, breathing their singular thoughts and desires into her ears. Their sweet and terrible power swelled, unseen by the eyes of her attacker, and she allowed herself to be caught up in their current.
rage. hunger. justice.
She opened her eyes and winked. “You’re right, it is dangerous to be out at a time like this.”
She swung her left arm over his and broke his hold on her throat. It was followed with a sharp uppercut to his jaw, snapping his head back. The approving howls of the demons flooded her with joyful torment.
punishment. fear. release.
“You little bitch!” His lips pulled back in a growl and she could see the blood coating his teeth as they began to circle each other in the tight alley. “I’m gonna beat you, I’m gonna **** you, and then I’m gonna cut your face up.”
She laughed in delight. His previous conversation with the bottle made him slow and clumsy. Punishing jabs and kicks easily interrupted his attempts to overpower her. She always enjoyed this part; watching them try to fight while she wore them to exhaustion.
Finally he tried to stagger away. She made a soft ‘tsking’ sound and pounced on him, taking his bruised body into her arms and swinging him in a few circles like a macabre dance partner before slamming him against the wall.
blood. mercy. power.
She secured a hand around his throat and pulled out a dagger. He writhed under her unnatural grip and she could taste his helplessness. The long blade caught the dim glow of the moon and reflected its sharp and unforgiving light. She used the tip to lightly prod various parts of his body, not enough to break the skin, but enough to make her point.
“No, stop, please, anything….” A red froth gathered on his lips and each word sent spittle flying into her face.
“Did it ever work? When they begged you, did you ever once show mercy?”
He began to sob. Prayers and pleas and promises heaved from his mouth like corpses thrown from a plague ship. It was always interesting to know how much a man thought his life was worth.
“I didn’t think so. There are very bad people out at night. You should have been more careful.”
dominion. purge. feast.
She wrapped herself in the pale starlight of the demons’ power. Her foot kicked his leg sideways with a sickening crunch and she drove the blade between his ribs. His scream drowned in the blood that flooded his lung. His eyes rolled in his skull and he grabbed at her with panicked hands. He twisted a fistful of her hair and she pushed herself off him; the dagger made a meaty squelching noise when it pulled out of his side. The man threw himself at her, but his broken leg made him pitch sideways. Her boot caught his jaw before it hit the ground and sent his head flying back into he wall. His body slumped to the ground, leaving a trail of gore on bricks behind him.
An intoxicating catharsis coursed through her soul. The dizzying rush illuminated her with a shining bright euphoria that made the colour-drained mirrors of her world shatter and fall away. She felt weightless and endless; above the mortal coil and outside of time.
The demons, sated by the hunt, slowly slunk back into the abyss, and in their wake the suffocating fog rolled back onto the shores of her life. Their hymn of vengeance withered and the silence became taut and frail. She leaned against the wall and tried to quiet the battle cry of her pulse with gasping breaths. Panic roiled in her gut when she looked down at the crumpled corpse. The transcendent glow of grace was quickly snuffed by the horror of what she had done. Again.
She cursed her trembling hand when she cleaned her blade on his coat. After rummaging through his clothes for his light purse, she sheathed her weapon and walked back into the night.
26 Haventide, Anima 80, Age of Light
There were dangerous people out on a night like this, and she knew she was one of them. Her grey boots padded like rain through the trash and rot in the alleys. The dirge she hummed was loud in her head, but lost in the crash of the waves against the pier.
She knew she should be home, with the door barred and a bottle in hand. It was safer to drink the demons away than to let them out in the night.
desire. poison. judgement.
But the night was dark and she was restless. The hunger crawled in her veins like parasites. It was an intoxicating pull; the promise of more. She had put the bottle down and unbarred the door and stepped outside to play.
She pulled back the hood that cloaked her features and allowed her hair to spill around her shoulders. Her hands tousled her hair to make it look disheveled. She slowed her gait and added a subtle stagger when she reached the crossroads. Smiling to herself in anticipation, she rounded the corner.
A man was sitting on a crate outside a darkened shop. His only company was a bottle that he was in deep conversation with. A wharf rat; mugging, whoring, and worse until the next ship left port.
“Spare some change, miss?” he called, rising from his seat.
She kept her eyes on the road and kept walking.
“Or perhaps a kiss?” he said, making smacking noises and gestures at his crotch.
A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed she was alone.
He blocked her path. His arms were thick and his chest puckered the buttons of his stained shirt. “It’s dangerous for a young lady like you to be out alone at a time like this.”
She let out a small gasp and pulled her cloak around her.
He took a swig from the bottle and stepped towards her. “There are bad people out at night miss.”
“Please, let me pass. I just want to go home.”
The man reached out a hand and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Then you should’ve stayed home tonight.”
She tried to jerk her arm away, but his grip tightened. He flung his bottle to the ground and clamped the hand over her mouth. There was no scream; only the heavy thud of glass against the dirt road. He dragged her into an alleyway, her feet barely touching the ground. The air flew out of her lungs when he pinned her against the wall and smashed his hand tighter against her mouth and nose. He ran his other hand up her arm to her throat and wrapped it around the slim flesh.
“If you scream, I’ll snap your neck. Understand?” She nodded wildly and he released his hand from her face, tightening the one around her throat to make his point.
“Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone, please, I just want to go home.”
“First a lesson miss. On how there are very bad people who do very bad things.” His free hand snaked under her cloak and cruelly wandered across the fabric beneath.
She closed her eyes and inhaled. His breath was sour with cheap liquor. His body smelled of grease, saltwater, and anger.
The demons, who had been shadowing her hunt, now swirled around her, breathing their singular thoughts and desires into her ears. Their sweet and terrible power swelled, unseen by the eyes of her attacker, and she allowed herself to be caught up in their current.
rage. hunger. justice.
She opened her eyes and winked. “You’re right, it is dangerous to be out at a time like this.”
She swung her left arm over his and broke his hold on her throat. It was followed with a sharp uppercut to his jaw, snapping his head back. The approving howls of the demons flooded her with joyful torment.
punishment. fear. release.
“You little bitch!” His lips pulled back in a growl and she could see the blood coating his teeth as they began to circle each other in the tight alley. “I’m gonna beat you, I’m gonna **** you, and then I’m gonna cut your face up.”
She laughed in delight. His previous conversation with the bottle made him slow and clumsy. Punishing jabs and kicks easily interrupted his attempts to overpower her. She always enjoyed this part; watching them try to fight while she wore them to exhaustion.
Finally he tried to stagger away. She made a soft ‘tsking’ sound and pounced on him, taking his bruised body into her arms and swinging him in a few circles like a macabre dance partner before slamming him against the wall.
blood. mercy. power.
She secured a hand around his throat and pulled out a dagger. He writhed under her unnatural grip and she could taste his helplessness. The long blade caught the dim glow of the moon and reflected its sharp and unforgiving light. She used the tip to lightly prod various parts of his body, not enough to break the skin, but enough to make her point.
“No, stop, please, anything….” A red froth gathered on his lips and each word sent spittle flying into her face.
“Did it ever work? When they begged you, did you ever once show mercy?”
He began to sob. Prayers and pleas and promises heaved from his mouth like corpses thrown from a plague ship. It was always interesting to know how much a man thought his life was worth.
“I didn’t think so. There are very bad people out at night. You should have been more careful.”
dominion. purge. feast.
She wrapped herself in the pale starlight of the demons’ power. Her foot kicked his leg sideways with a sickening crunch and she drove the blade between his ribs. His scream drowned in the blood that flooded his lung. His eyes rolled in his skull and he grabbed at her with panicked hands. He twisted a fistful of her hair and she pushed herself off him; the dagger made a meaty squelching noise when it pulled out of his side. The man threw himself at her, but his broken leg made him pitch sideways. Her boot caught his jaw before it hit the ground and sent his head flying back into he wall. His body slumped to the ground, leaving a trail of gore on bricks behind him.
An intoxicating catharsis coursed through her soul. The dizzying rush illuminated her with a shining bright euphoria that made the colour-drained mirrors of her world shatter and fall away. She felt weightless and endless; above the mortal coil and outside of time.
The demons, sated by the hunt, slowly slunk back into the abyss, and in their wake the suffocating fog rolled back onto the shores of her life. Their hymn of vengeance withered and the silence became taut and frail. She leaned against the wall and tried to quiet the battle cry of her pulse with gasping breaths. Panic roiled in her gut when she looked down at the crumpled corpse. The transcendent glow of grace was quickly snuffed by the horror of what she had done. Again.
She cursed her trembling hand when she cleaned her blade on his coat. After rummaging through his clothes for his light purse, she sheathed her weapon and walked back into the night.
