Bane's blog: "please don't steal "

As the day wore on her alarm clock went off at 3:15, she reached over to slam her hand down on the infernal beeping device. Her hand grazed the glass of water as she killed the alarm clock and she knocked it over shorting out her clock and shocking herself. She was now wide awake; she cursed and threw her blankets off before she got into the shower. Her hands moving over the bottles she poured shampoo into her hand before scrubbing at her ass length black hair, she let the shampoo sit for five minutes as she shaved her legs. As she rinsed out the shampoo, her hand reached out fumbling for the counter as she grabbed her toothbrush and the paste that was beside it. She finished rinsing out her hair before she stepped under the spray, tilting her head back as she let the water roll over her flesh turning her back to the spray she brushed her teeth quickly. Her eyes scanned the rack of bath products as her fingers traced the bottles stopping on the curl holding conditioner. She worked the cream into her hair and then scrubbed her pale flesh until it glowed a light pink. Her body scrub was a subtle blend of sandalwood, cedar, oak moss, and amber which gave the girl an added layer of mystery. She washed the conditioner out of her hair, which was already starting to curl and then shut off the water, stepping out onto the bath mat before wrapping her body in a towel. She moved over to the counter and looked herself over for a moment before reaching under the sink and getting out her blow dryer she fixed her hair so that the ringlet curls were lying against her shoulders and her back gently. She opened the drawer beside the sink and pulled out her makeup bag, she looked through it before pulling out a bronzer, along with her eyeliner pencil, eye shadow and blush. She began to apply her makeup lining her green eyes with the silver eyeliner pencil after she had applied the bronzer and the blush. Then with one of the tiny brushes she applied a soft charcoal eye shadow. She looked herself over once more and then walked out of the bathroom and towards her closet. She opened the doors slowly as she looked over her collection of “work” clothes her fingers running over the various fabrics before she stopped in the silks. She bit her lip a bit as she debated on the color for the night; she had worn red the night before so tonight was a black night. Her fingers removed the hanger from the closet and then in one motion the slip was in her hands, she walked to her dresser and pulled out her black lace bra, she laid the bra and the slip out on the bed sinking into a chair, she grabbed a bottle of lotion and began to rub it into her skin, it had a touch of color so she wasn’t so pale. Her hands then closed on her deodorant, she applied that and then pulled on her bra before she pulled on the black silk baby doll, this one much shorter than the one from the night before, it barely covered her ass. She sighed and ran her hands over the clothing, before she adjusted her push up bra, giving her chest the added cup size that her boss loved. She then pulled on the black lace thong that she had bought a few days before. She turned slowly in her floor length mirror before she moved across the worn carpet and once again her eyes searched her closet, her eyes landed on a pair of black stilettos that had been a present for her birthday not three days before. She moved back to the chair and sank into it as she slipped her feet into the heels, doing up the lacing in the front as well as the small zipper on the side, this brought her total height to 5’8 and she silently thanked the gods for 4 inch heels. She looked herself over one more time before she headed for the front room of her tiny apartment, her hands closing on her keys as she pulled her tan trench coat from its peg on the wall next to the door, she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her trench, adjusting her hair and her slip underneath before buttoning it closed, tying the belt about her hips. She picked up her small purse and with her keys still in hand, she stepped out of her front door, locked the wooden door and then headed towards the building she worked in, being careful as she walked through the industrial district. She flipped her keys in her fingers as she came upon the old warehouse that her boss had bought several years before. She unlocked the club's security door, pausing to look up at the sign that read "C & F Nightclub". Yeah, she was sure she hated this place, but then again they pay was nice and well if she had problem customers she only ever had a problem with them once.  She shuddered a bit before she stepped through the security door. She looked around for a moment as she took a deep breath, the entryway smelled like leather with a hint of organic cleaning supplies. The walls in the entryway were lined with mirrors and the floor was a white and black checkered lights. The walls made the hallway look longer than it was and then at the end of the hall she began to move down the spiral staircase towards the main room. Here the black and white lights were in bigger squares, and the walls were not as mirrored but there were large mirrors placed strategically around the room so that she could see the entire club from behind the bar. She moved into the back room, through another heavily reinforced door. She hung up her coat and kicked off her heels before she headed back out, her boss could bitch all he wanted she was not wearing those damn things all night, she loved them but they killed her feet. The cleaning crew had made the slaughter from last night non-existent, and the smell of the organic cleaning supplies was almost welcome as she remembered the night before, she had felt bad for the group of tourists, but she had warned them to leave early. She smiled and looked around no matter what happened here it was still one of the only places that she felt safe from the monsters of the night, as she thought about that she had to laugh, how ironic that she should feel safe in a nightclub run by those very same monsters. Behind her floated a small glowing "H" that was a deep crimson in color and had a little silver heart hanging from the middle of the "H" marking her as a Human, and one that belonged to the bar, as in she was off limits for either ravaging or feeding off of. Unless that person had permission from the owner, and RJ was not keen on giving his permission. She had restocked the glow sticks under the bar. Green for Food and White for those that weren’t. She was not sure she liked the glow stick idea but it had helped cure some of the issues of everyone in the club getting eaten after 1:30am, yep that was feeding time all the reinforced doors would be locked and no one was allowed in or out until well after 2 am. The ignorant humans who wandered in here almost never lasted the night. The ones who came here of their own free will, usually came under the protection of one of the more dangerous monsters.  She looked around again picked up a rag and began to wipe down the bar, not that it needed it but she loved doing it anyway, then she leaned over, and kicked on the power to the speakers and the lights, smiling as the familiar thrum filled her veins, she was finally starting to feel alive again, considering what would happen tonight it was ironic that this place made her feel alive. Her fingers hesitating on the dial, as she listened to the words of the song before turning up the music as the bass line picked up. Then she began, the almost too long, wait for sunset. ~ She had been passing out glow sticks left and right as well as making drinks and manning the music. She was going to have to talk to RJ, she needed help behind the bar. She noticed that the twin telepaths at the front door were still as good as ever at marking her targets. The sea of symbols marked their owners, W's for were’s, regardless of their final form, S she assumed was for shape shifters, H, as always for Humans, and seeing as RJ and the twins held vampires as some sort of joke, little glasses of red wine for the vampires. Of course the array of symbols also came in a variety of colors, the deeper and darker the color the more dangerous the creature was. Those were the ones that knew not to give her any trouble and she was grateful as her own H over the years had begun to turn that deeper and darker color that it sported today. She noticed a small group of brightly colored H’s heading for the bar and she shuddered, yep they were food, small and easily breakable food… the kind her “normal” cliental liked to “share” most of the time what was left of their soft bodies were hunks of flesh and bone that were most of the time, unrecognizable. Her fingers hesitated over the white glow sticks. Maybe tonight she could change at least one of their fates. And then she heard his voice in her head, and her hand shifted and with a soft sigh she picked up a handful of green glow sticks as the girls approached the bar. She handed them the glow sticks and spoke- Keep these close to you and don’t lose them. She slipped out from behind the bar to go have a smoke, leaving one of her Vampire co-workers in charge. Her hands fumbled with her coat, before she pulled the crushed pack from her pocket as well as a lighter, she headed for the smoking lounge before she lit up resting against one of the walls.

She stood beside the tavern, her hair draping around her face and shoulders, her form wrapped in a black corset and a set of long dirty skirts. She was to be meeting someone here. The right side of her face covered in the angry red scar from her past, it stretched from her eye down her cheek and along her neck. It was part of the reason she left her hair down all the time. The long mane of auburn hair reaching down past her hips woven into the long strands was the freshest of local flowers. Something she got up and collected every morning without fail. Her bare feet wiggled into the dirt as she leaned against the building and waited. She had eaten a burnt potato for breakfast, as it was all she could afford. There was supposed to be news from the battle field today. It was the only reason she had stayed at the tavern that night. She had picked up a tending job as all the men had been recruited to help the king. Even the keeper of the Tavern had left they were a village of old men, women and young children. Every once in a while a wounded man would return, but none ever stayed long. She was desperate for information on the "boys" she had grown up with, they were her best friends and as close to her as brothers. The only ones who had seen her as nothing but a frightened child when she had been dropped in front of the village church with the fresh burn on her face. It had been nine years since that fateful day. She was a young woman now, old enough to be married and even have children of her own. The scar had chased away many potential suitors, and she was content for now to be alone. She took a deep breath as the wind battered at her from the east, the crisp smell of the salt water hit her nose and she could not help but smile. The boats would go out today and hopefully they would have better luck then the last few weeks. Everyone was starting to worry what with winter fast approaching, there was not enough food to keep them through the winter, and everyone knew it. She tilted her had back and closed her eyes, letting the rays of the sun warm her face for a few moments before she decided to walk around the village, there was no point in standing next to the tavern all day waiting for a messenger. He had not shown up for several weeks, no news of the war, of loved ones... nothing. Her silent plea to her "heathen" gods, for the lives of those that were cared for by the village. Her fingers reaching out to her sides as she stepped into one of the grain fields. Fingers brushing over the long stalks of wheat as she headed for the cliffs on the other side of the fields. She stopped at the edge of the field, before she stepped through the long sea grasses to stand on the side of the cliffs, watching the surf slam against the rocks. As the wind came up off the sea and over the edge of the cliff it pulled the hair away from her face and her neck, causing it to billow out behind her. She loved being beside the sea, it was comforting knowing she was living so close to the cusp of a world where men had no control over anything.

As the clouds began to roll in from the south the rain began to fall, slowly for the first few moments before becoming a torrential downpour. The young woman cursed softly as the water began to soak into her denim jacket as she pulled it around her body tightly as she slipped through the doors of the school. Pushing her wet hair out of her molten copper eyes as she headed down the hall towards AP English the only class during the day she could sleep through. As she stepped into the room she noticed the change in the seats and looked around noting a name written on the board as she slipped into a seat in the back watching as the room began to fill and finally the door closed revealing a substitute. She groaned softly as she pulled out her mangled copy of her course book and read over the notes she had scribbled in the margins when she had read the book this summer.

        The day dragged by and by 2:45 she was bored out of her mind ignoring her physics teacher as the man began to talk about lab and partners, her eyes glanced over the other people in the room before stopping on the window as she watched the rain roll down the window. Walking home tonight was going to be awful. She sighed as someone got up and moved to sit beside her. She took in the boys form quickly before looking back out the window as the teacher began to explain how the assignment would be working and what was expected of them for their first project of the semester, taking down names as the man began to walk through the room taking down lab partner names stopping at her and clearing his throat

        “Nadia Thompson” she said softly as the man nodded then looked at her name for a moment.

        “You’re the sophomore aren’t you?”

        “Yes” she sighed and looked up at him

        “Good, good, very good” the man smiled and scribbled her name down as he moved on the boy next to her said his name and she could feel the eyes boring into her back as the man wrote his name down beside hers.

As the wind howled through the trees the young woman pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, and ducked her head as the frigid air nipped at the exposed flesh of her nose and cheeks. The wind tugged relentlessly at her hood before a particularly nasty gust ripped the fabric from her hands. Her long raven hair pulling loose from its crude tie as it whipped out behind her. Cursing softly she tucked herself into the shelter of one of the large trees beside her, now protected from the wind for the most part, she reached back and pulled her unruly hair back into a messy braid. Her piercing gold eyes scanned the woods from the direction she had come from. Not seeing anything she sighed in relief before she headed out again in the direction that the gypsy woman had pointed her in after listening to her tale.

Hours behind the woman a pack of dogs strained at their leashes as they followed her scent. The armored guards of the local Roman lord’s house, held tight to the leashes as the giant mastiffs pulled them through the woods in the direction that the woman had fled. An advanced guard thundered their mounts towards the tiny village that lay slightly to the north and west of the lord’s home. The guards rode as if Pluto himself were chasing them with all the hounds that occupied the underworld.

As she neared the road she stopped to listen; the sound of galloping horses was getting louder. She tucked herself as far into the shadows as she could just as six pairs of riders rode past her hiding spot. She sagged against the tree stroking the bark in a silent thank you, before turning to look towards the heart of the woods. Her shivers were no longer the shivers of the frigid wind, these shivers were from fear. The old gypsy woman had told her to head for the wall, but all the stories she had heard since she had gotten here were stories of death and magic. She looked up into the sky and spoke softly.

“Aquilo guide me to the North, Feronia point me in the direction of freedom and spare me the wrath of Poena.” She closed her eyes and took a step to the north. Her first step was followed by another and then another, soon she was running through the trees again.

As she stumbled, she picked herself back up and continued. With each step her breath came ragged and labored, but she pushed on. The old woman’s words ringing in her ears.

“To the North you must travel, across the wall you will be safe from them, do not stop, and do not look back. Now run…. Run like you have never run before child.” Her barrowed skirts caught on bushes as she ran. As she fell for what seemed like the hundredth time, her flimsy house shoes tore, pulling the mangled leather from her foot and ankle. She bent to pull off the other shoe and tucked it into her belt not wanting to leave them behind in fear that the old man’s ravenous soldiers and their handlers would find her.

The dogs pulled the guards through the dense trees at an alarming rate using the same path the runaway had. Snarling, the dogs broke through the trees into a clearing, the guards blinking at the loss of the frigid wind making them pull the dogs back in close to them. There inside the clearing a huge bond fire blazed, making the scene before them seem almost like a dream. The guards blinked and looked around seeing the gypsy people talking, singing and taking care of their children and animals. On one side of the clearing a group of young men were wrestling, as by the bond fire another group of naked youths, their muscles straining as they raced towards the flames before launching themselves through the air, clearing the roaring flames by mere inches. A group of young woman watched the jumping youths; as their bodies cleared the flames the girls giggled and blushed. The dogs pulled on their leashes, growling, eager to get at the people that were laid out before them. One of the large gypsy horses looked down at the dogs slightly annoyed at the growling, his huge front hoof coming down hard in the grass. One of the dogs lunged at him, the horse reared, pulling against the rope that held him tied to the tree; the branch bent as the horse pulled harder against the rope his hooves raking the air above the dog. As the horse reared the camp’s demeanor changed completely, before the gypsies had been happy and carefree, the guards watched almost in complete shock as swords, daggers, and bows materialized out of nowhere, most being pulled from the insides, sides, and undersides of wagons, from inside hay stacks and tree hollows. As the shock began to wear off, they each took a step back as the ancient woman shuffled towards them leaning heavily on her oversized oak staff. She squinted at them one at a time before shuffling between the dogs, one hand stretched out as the animals quieted and sat down.

“What is your business here?” Her voice was soft as she looked the guards over slowly, her fingers moving to scratch one of the huge dogs behind his pointed ears. One of the guards stepped closer to her and then stopped. The almost silent sound of a bow creaking making him think twice about approaching the woman.

“We seek information about a young woman who passed this way earlier this night. She is of special interest to our Lord Adalricus.”

The old woman shook her head and moved out of the range of the men and their dogs. Waving to one of the boys in the clearing, he moved over and took her arm helping her towards her wagon. With his help she climbed into her wagon, turning to look over her shoulder she spoke again, “None of your people have passed through here while we have been celebrating this night.” The guards turned and left through the same trees that they had come through, the frigid air whipping around them as they entered the woods pushing them towards the south.

Adalricus paced his room waiting for news of his latest purchase and if she had been found yet. He was mentally kicking himself for her escape. He ran the situation over and over in his mind lost to the memories as he paced. The girl had arrived with the last batch of soldiers that had come to keep the Britons away from the wall. She looked so small beside the soldiers who led her horse, her hands tied to the saddle that she sat upon. One of the cloaks that the soldiers was issued was wrapped around her shoulders to keep her warm in the drastic change in temperature from what she was used to. Her thin undyed flax dress completely inappropriate for the weather in Briton. She had not fought the house servants as they untied and pulled her from the saddle. She gave the soldiers a sad look before she turned to stand straight and tall as they pulled the cloak from her shoulders exposing her flesh to the cool air. She had closed her eyes and shivered; it was not a shiver of fear it was a shiver of cold. The soldiers stood by watching this as Adalricus  walked up to her placing his hand on her chin and turning her face from side to side reaching out to stroke the delta brand on her neck. He remembered she hadn’t pulled away in fear like all his other slaves had as his fingers touched her brand her eyes had snapped open the piercing gold color boring into him, to the point where he almost pulled back. Instead he ran his fingers through her hair and her muscles tightened under his touch, like a frightened doe ready to bolt into the safety of the trees. He laughed as the memories that followed the initial one; she had been extremely fun to break in. Her begging had only egged him on he moaned as the memory of her screams rang through his head. Oh, the things he would give to have her back in his control, back so he could hear those screams again.

She continued to run, her bare feet slapping against the dirt. As she looked up into the night sky, she shivered the pleasant clouds from earlier that morning had vanished in their place rolling black clouds began to cover the sky, lightning raced towards the earth and a deafening roar of thunder forced her to cover her ears as she continued to head towards the tree line and the wall. As the trees thinned around her she stopped, looking through the trees at the clearing that was laid out before her. Her heart beating so hard she could almost hear the flow of her blood in her ears. She stopped for a moment looking from left to right, before catching sight of a few Roman soldiers. She caught her breath, frozen by the sight of them, her mind arguing that this was not a good idea and that she should turn back. Willing the voice in her head to quiet, she took two deep breaths and offered up a silent plea to the gods before she darted out into the clearing racing with all her heart towards the wall. Her abused muscles screamed in protest as she scrambled over the collection of stones that was known as the wall. Her feet slipped in the slick grass and mud as she headed towards the far tree line. Angry shouts behind her egged her to move faster, she ignored the calls for her to stop tears filling her eyes as one of the guards shouted her name and called to her that it was dangerous, in her mind she begged for forgiveness. As she ran searing pain exploded in her left shoulder, she cried out and stumbled, her right hand coming up to hold the area above the pain, her fingers brushing the shaft of the arrow and then feeling her own hot sticky blood soak into her top and her cloak, as it began to run down her back. She let her tears roll down her cheeks as she stumbled into the trees leaning against one before she pushed further into the trees stumbling before she collapsed over a fallen log her eyes fluttering as she slipped out of consciousness.

Two pairs of green eyes watched the young woman as she raced across the clearing, one set closing in sympathy as the arrow sank into her shoulder. The Roman soldiers took up their weapons and advanced towards the wall watching her stumble towards the trees, one calling her name, before turning to yell at the one who had shot her. The pair of eyes that had closed now opened to see her still running towards the trees not thirty paces from where he and his friend were hidden; they had been watching the troops. He got to his feet slowly sticking to the shadows, flanked by his childhood friend, he moved over to the girl, he watched her for a moment before he reached out and took a hold of the arrow shaft with his fist and holding it tightly he snapped off the fletching as not to jar it as he moved her. He bent down and slipped his left arm under her body and lifted her up draping her gently over her shoulder as he handed his rattan shield to his friend before adjusting his hold on the spear in his right hand. His friend placed a hand on his arm before whispering softly beside him.

“Slade is this wise? She could be one of theirs…” Slade held her a bit tighter as he thrust the fletching at his friend.

“And tell me Leal… would they sink so low as to shoot one of their own? Not a soldier but a woman?” Leal nodded slightly at the logic as the friends headed back towards their camp. He prayed the elders would see it the same way and do their best to keep the young woman from Cernunnos’s reach.

The pewter goblet clanked against the far wall of Adalricus’s hall, “Fools” he cried “Idiots” he screamed. The serving girls made themselves as small as possible against the walls of the room as he paced angrily around it. One of the girls not moving fast enough cried out as his open hand caught the flesh of her cheek sending her to the floor by his feet. Clutching her cheek and curling up as his boots connected with her stomach and her chest she whimpered softly holding back her cries as it only made him hit harder. Eventually one of his guards laid a hand on his arm to drawn him away from the defenseless serving girl. Adalricus snarled and struck the guard away from him.

“How could you lose her? She doesn’t know the area, she knows no one here. How dare you come back to me without her in hand!” He continued to yell at the guards, his dogs cowering on one corner the serving girls in the other corner. In the kitchen, listening through the closed door, one of the girls smiles Adora had gotten away.

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As strong fingers laced into her hair she jolted awake trying to pull even further into the cage that held her. The fingers closed into a fist pulling her head back and exposing her unmarked flesh. The man on the other side of the room laughed softly and then nodded to the guard that held her by her long raven hair. The guard smiled and pulled her roughly from her wooden prison and thrust her to her knees before the man. She whimpered softly as the man looked her over his fingers running over the exposed flesh of her throat before nodding again the words he spoke not making sense to her. She cried out as the strong arms pushed her into the dirt and held her there; one hand on the side of her head, the guard’s knee braced over her shoulders another guard holding her down his hands on the small of her back. She watched with wild eyes, as the man who had looked her over, moved to the brazier in the corner as he pulled on a heavy leather glove. He smiled over to her as he reached out and grabbed one of the white hot iron brands that were always kept at the constant temperature for searing flesh. She thrashed under the guards as he moved over to her with the iron in hand. The guard pulled her hair away from her neck, the movement causing her to start sobbing. As the man moved closer to her she could feel the heat getting closer and closer to her delicate flesh. In a flash searing pain ripped through the muscles in her neck, right below her ear. She gasped and then the scream tore from her lungs and throat. The man smiled as he held the brand to her flesh till he counted to six.

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As the same pain exploded in her left shoulder her eyes snapped open and she screamed, fighting the pressure from the knee at the base of her neck that stretched over her right shoulder, she tried to kick out only to find another weight pressing on her lower back holding her legs down. Her tears rolled down her cheeks as her screams turned to shallow sobs as the pressure lifted from her shoulder, her back, and her legs. She squeezed her eyes closed as the rough hand ran over her back gently as a cool salve was applied to the burn. She whimpered and tried to pull away slightly she could hear the whispers around her like and angry wind storm. She shivered and made to sit up before the pressure on her back returned the strange language spoken softly before the pressure let up, she lay back down and pulled her hands up under her head, wincing at the dull ache in her shoulder that had not moments before been the searing pain. As the fur was laid over her she mumbled her thanks in the local language.

Slade watched them from beside the fire; he had volunteered to let the girl stay in his crude hut. He winced as they closed the wound on her shoulder, her screams making him shiver slightly. As the elders moved away from his hut he moved back inside and looked her over, seeing her shiver he pulled one of the furs out of the pile and laid it over the exposed flesh of her shoulders and lower back. Hearing her speak his own language he smiled before sitting down in the furs to watch over her. He held his spear in front of him and slowly ran his fingers along the shaft, not sure what the elders would say about her. He knew deep down that she belonged here with them.

She watched the nameless man as he got up and moved into the hut, before sitting beside where she was laying as sleep began to overtake her again she let her eyes flutter as she pulled the fur tighter around her body as she let her body relax against the strain of the last few days. Something about the man beside her was comforting, almost like he was there to protect her from the nightmares that plagued her dreams. As she drifted away she noticed the dirt covering part of his face and the smattering of green in the man’s tangled black hair, and his piercing green eyes.

As the woman slept Leal brought him a bowl of what smelled like the most wonderful rabbit stew, the two sat together watching her sleep for a few moments Leal turned to his friend and smiled slightly. “Your right, I think, Slade…about her” he motioned to the girl. “Even though the Romans are a strange people…no Roman man… no roman brave enough to call himself a man….would shoot a woman…especially one with her back to them.” Slade nodded slightly and watched the small woman asleep in his bed. Leal watched him for a moment before clapping him on the back.

“Leal…” Slade looked over at him. “They must have done something awful to her to make her run with all her being like that.” His friend nodded and looked her over again. “You saw the terror in her eyes just as I did… she looks so small and delicate like a flower.” Slade’s words were soft and almost sad his green eyes closing to keep back unshed tears.

“Slade… rest… she is safe here, and you need your strength.” Leal’s words slowly registered in the back of Slade’s mind as he nodded and closed his eyes finishing his soup before curling up in the dirt one hand still clutching the spear, as if he was expecting the entire Roman army to come after her while she slept.

As Adora slept her body quivered with the strain of her run as well as the nightmares that plagued her from the short time that the man had her within his grasp. She didn’t remember most of her child hood just the one day that changed her life forever.

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Her bare feet slapped the dew slicked grass as she ran through the trees calling the names of her friends. Her soft giggles echoing in the forest, she stopped brushing her hair out of her eyes as she looked around at her surroundings. Her mother had convinced her to put on skirts and a shirt this morning and the fabric itched. She sighed and headed in the direction of the soft laughter of her friends. Their laughter turned to screams as the soldiers appeared from through the trees, her own scream cut off by the huge hand that covered her nose and her mouth, her tiny body fighting against him as her world darkened.

Her eyes fluttered as she came to, she moved to stretch and flinched at the tight ropes that bound her wrists together. As she began to look around she noticed the ground moving quickly past her, the motion that had woken her was the galloping horse that she was draped over, holding her against him the soldier bent slightly over her to protect her from the branches that whipped past them. She cried out in shock as she caught a thin branch in the face under her eye, the soldier pulled her closer but did not slow. Eventually the trees gave way to lush rolling hills, and a fort came into view. She had been warned never to go there, to never talk or be seen by the men who wore the red cloaks.

The cries of the arrival sounded through the fort, and she peaked out from around the soldiers arms too look at the place they had been coming from the tears welling up in her eyes. As the horse began to slow she shrank back into his chest, there were so many people all shouting and moving quickly through the streets. As they entered the soldier’s compound the horse finally stopped and the soldier dismounted before pulling her from her spot on top of the beautiful animal. Other soldiers arrived each carrying a child, she recognized one two of her friends, she opened her mouth to talk to them then hearing the strange language of the man that held her by the back of her shirt she stopped. Eventually they were led to a small room their bonds untied and the door closed and bolted behind them. As the soldiers left the children finally broke down into a panic, most crying for their mothers, her own voice quivered as she huddled together with her friends on the cold stone floor, she cried long into the night before the loss of energy forced her to sleep.

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She woke with a start her heart beating rapidly as the dream consumed her, she gasped for breath before she rolled onto her back, crying out softly at the pain that flared in her shoulder. She closed her eyes bidding the tears to leave them. She sat up slowly pulling the fur around her, draping it over her shoulders and pulling it tight as she shivered her golden eyes looking over her surroundings. He was curled up in the dirt beside the pile of furs and she smiled, her fear subsiding as she noticed the spear still clutched in his fist. She reached out towards him her fingers not touching his flesh before she pulled back then lay back down her mind muddled as she closed her eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

He stirred slightly as her breathing changed not opening his eyes quiet yet his listened as she sat up. The questions began to race in his mind. “Was she going to run away? Who is she? Why had she come north of the wall? What is her name?” the last question was the one he was focused on, he listened as she lay back down her breathing returning to the slow even breaths of sleep. He sat up and stretched, laying his spear in the dirt beside her. He reached out with a shaking hand to brush her hair back out of her face. Smiling to himself, after picking up his worn bowl, he headed towards the cooking fie spooning out a portion of leftover stew into the bowl before heading back to his hut. He sat and ate slowly watching her back rise and fall with each unlabored breath that she took. He imagined her body covered in woad, her hand gripping a bow and the determination of her eyes as she took aim. He laughed softly and finished his stew, leaning back against the hut wall he looked out onto the waking camp waving slightly to Leal. Leal raised his hand in return, making his way to the cooking fire he scooped up some of the stew and moved over to sit beside his friend. Slade turned to watch the sleeping woman and he sighed softly.

“I hope you were not up all night worried about her Slade” Leal spoke softly as not to wake her.

“No, I slept… not well but I slept”

Leal nodded and then pulled a twig out of his hair, shaking his head slightly he turned to look his friend over.

“Perhaps you should go down to the stream and wash up you might scare her looking like that.” Slade smirked and then reached up pulling twigs and leaves from his own hair, before he nodded slightly.

“You should too my friend” Leal nodded and then looked at the sleeping woman, before he ate the rest of his stew.

“I can go right now if you want me to stay and watch her while you clean yourself up.” Slade nodded slightly, Leal smiled and got to his feet. Not saying anything more as he headed to the stream to wash up quickly. He returned a while later his wet hair plastered to the side of his neck as it dripped down over his bare chest. Slade got to his feet and headed towards the stream.

He pulled off his muddy pants and slipped into the cold water, ducking under the surface as he scrubbed the mud from his flesh quickly, he came up for air his teeth chattering slightly as he pulled his pants in scrubbing the mud from them as well. He ducked under the surface of the water again before scrubbing at his hair, as he came up he took another deep breath and watched the grime wash away downstream. He smiled as he ran his fingers through his hair gently before slipping out of the water to wring out his pants pulling them on quickly as he headed back towards the camp.

Leal smiled as he watched the young woman sleep, there was something about her that reminded him of someone from his childhood but he couldn’t place it. She looked so helpless curled up under the furs her eyes closed, the pain that had been inflicted on her evident by the various stages of bruises on her face and neck. His eyes stopped on the raised flesh of the symbol burned into her delicate flesh, he reached out and ran his fingers over the abused flesh gently. She didn’t pull back and he sighed, when they had been watching the troops, he had noticed that some of them bore scars like hers only the ones he had seen had been more elaborate and on biceps and calves. Hers looked like a mark that gave her certain status in the roman society. He was curious about what that status had been. He pulled his hand back and leaned against the hut wall waiting for Slade to return.

As Slade walked quietly through the camp he looked around at the other men that were beginning to get up and go about their work. He greeted one of the elders as the man stretched. As he looked Slade over he could see the forced growth of the muscles beneath his flesh and sighed. The war against the Romans had been hard on all of them, but Slade had lost everything, his older sister had been stolen from these very woods by the men that had come to protect their then small outpost that seemed to have blossomed overnight into the towns and villages that were now common to the south. His voice, hardened by the experiences of his past seemed to almost boom with authority as he raised his hand in greeting.

“Slade, I trust your night was uneventful” Slade nodded slightly and turned to face him.

“Yes sir, although I cannot help but think that maybe the gods delivered her into my hands for protection.” He smiled at the thought then continued, “She reminds me of Caelan in a way, she is strong, willful, and most likely a handful. Something inside me is telling me that she is here to change something.” He stopped seeing the elder’s reaction to the name.

“I have no answers for you Slade; we both know that the Romans took Caelan almost,” he stopped to count, “thirteen summers ago. I do not know who she is but if you feel that the Gods have given her to your protection than I will not argue. As we all know the Gods work in mysterious ways. You must remember though, she may not be Caelan.” Slade nodded before he turned to head to his hut. The ender stood and watched him; the same thoughts about the loss of his granddaughter had crossed his mind when Slade and Leal had brought the wounded girl into the camp. He had stayed up long into the night wondering about the life that had been stolen from him; the loss of his cherished granddaughter was what had convinced him to join in the fighting.

Slade returned to his hut and sank down to sit beside his friend. Leal nodded to him and spoke softly.

“She belongs here…with us…safe and healthy” Slade nodded and smiled reaching out to run his fingers over her cheek and down to stroke the brand gently. Her eyes fluttered as she woke, staying still as he pulled his hand back, she blushed slightly and then sat up. Her voice was soft as she spoke; she stumbled on the language slightly.

“Thank you… for helping me.”

"There is no need to thank me Roman"

Her eyes narrowed and the words slipped off of her tongue quicker as she spoke again.

"I am not of Rome and I will never claim to have been. To the romans I am nothing more than property to be bought and sold"

The old man standing in the doorway to the hut spoke next. His voice hard, and pained from years of giving orders.

“If you are not of Rome then tell us child where are you from? and what do you want here?”

She bowed her head and spoke softly once again. “There is no word in your tongue for what I am. I have only the name given to me by the man who sold me to the markets thirteen summers ago. I was four summers old…. The word they use to describe me is servus. What kind and my duties I would like to keep to myself if you don’t mind sir.” She was in the process of rubbing her arms. Her eyes closing slightly as she shuddered, the memories of her “work” almost too much to bear.

It was painfully obvious to the old man that whatever she had been forced to do had been horrible for her. That she was still fighting with the memories of what had happened to her for the last thirteen summers.

(not included yet)

She was curious about the blue dragon that adorned the right side of his face; it came up along the side of his neck, then up to above his eye from under his ear. In the fire-light the blue seemed to move over his flesh like it was living. She stood to the entrance of her own crude little hut, the men had decided that if she was going to stay she might as well have a place of her own. She raised a hand to wave as Slade looked her way, the old man was busy painting a design onto his chest so he didn’t wave back in fear that he would mess up the woad that now adorned almost half of his flesh. She had to admit when Slade and Leal were painted it made them look somehow fiercer than they did when they were covered in dirt and grime. She had begged them to tell her where they were going and why she had to stay behind. Neither one of them had given in, so she waited eventually someone would tell her what was going on and if not she would find out on her own.

The vibrant blue ink ran in spirals around her fingers and then up her arms, the single lines branching out to cuffs around her forearms, the cuffs containing a geometrical pattern around a beautiful triskele, running over her shoulders to meet between her shoulder blades. The harder the man stared at the ink it seemed to blossom and grow beneath her flesh as if it were alive. The ink ran down her spine to blossom into a beautiful rendition of the tree of life, the roots vanishing into the skin of her lower back the branches reaching around to caress her sides. The blue of the ink was startling, no dazzling, against her pale flesh. As he tilted her head from side to side he would see where her brand had once been, now covered in the living ink, a torc resting around her delicate neck, the ends of the torc grazing her collarbones on either side of her slender throat. Across her chest the intricate knot work ribboned through her flesh like the design had merely been painted on with a delicate brush. As his eyes moved down her form Celtic dragons curled up her now defined abs as if protecting her from his evil touch. With each appearance of new ink his smile faded to reveal a snarl of rage.

Seeing his reaction she smiled, she was no longer the timid slave he had purchased in Rome. She closed her eyes as his hand traced at the dragons that had been painted on not more than twelve hours ago. They would last at least thirteen days and by then she was hoping that he would either throw her out or kill her. The first being the better choice at this point as she wanted to go home to Slade and Leal, they had become fast friends with her as she had adjusted to being back with her own people. She was no longer afraid of what the man would do to her it wouldn’t matter. After all he may still have claim on her flesh but her soul was out of his hands now. There was no way she was going to go back to being that frightened and alone ever again.

"If you really wanted to keep my down, why didnt you just rip the wings from my back? Instead of leaving me broken on the ground knowing that I would heal and get right back up..." The words repeated themselves over and over in his mind. As he lay in the middle of the room, wrists bound behind his back as blood ran from the wound on the right side of his back. His right wing broken in several places. His armor lay in a heap in the corner, where it had landed after it had been ripped from his body. His form seemed to mock the gods of old, the muscles in his shoulders flowing and connecting to his perfect chest and his washboard abs, the sculpted muscles vanished into his pant line. The young man closed his eyes his black pants hanging on his hips with the help of a black leather belt and the chains that hung from it. The tattoo of the red tribal pheonix on the right side of his chest, was done in the shades of fire. His bright red hair was plastered to his head and neck with sweat. The remains of his right wing lay scattered around the floor, of the room, bloodied feathers lay in piles where they had been pulled, and the half crushed bones of the tip of his wing lay at the feet of the one who had given the order to cripple him and leave him earth bound. The pain that washed through his back a constant reminder of the fierce betrayal of his best friend and ally. That best friend now sat in a chair on the far side fo the room, her slender legs crossed, as she watched picking dried blood out from under her nails in boredom. Her voice was soft as she picked a bit of feather and blood out from under the nail on her middle finger. "Richard.... if you had told me what I wanted to know...." her voice drifted off as the pair of boots infront of his face shifted and the crunch of boot slamming into the delicate bone structure of the angel's cheek and jaw filled the room. He groaned in pain before turning his head to spit blood onto the floorboards, his golden eyes closing in responce to the pain that now shot through his face. "So I am going to ask you again Richard, where is the child Elane?" His eyes closed as he locked what was left of his jaw to keep the knowledge locked away safely from those that would use it to tip the delicate balance of life in the favor of that who should not be govening the fate of mankind. 

The sun sank behind the mountains rapidly that night. We haven’t even had time to build a fire before we were encased in the arms of darkness. My friends didn't even bother to eat dinner before rolling out their bedrolls and falling asleep, leaving me to ponder my thoughts of the day’s activities. A chill crept into the air of the night, which was calm. The silence was intoxicating, absolute; sleep had not found her as her mind raced with questions. For a moment she felt a presence she closed her eyes to sense it but, she was only set adrift in the dark silent void of her mind.

She pondered her fate and looked over at her sleeping companions knowing that three days ago she would have just looked at her bookings and figured they were just another set of paying customers but, there was something very different about the two men. "Well at least they are asleep" she thought to herself, last thing she needed was them asking why she was staring at them. It had been an uneventful trip so far. She couldn't shake the sense of foreboding- the questions came flooding back: why had they sought her out? Why did they have sought her out? Why did they insist on the secrecy? And why had they asked for her to take them here?

The she froze, panic rose in the back of her throat, she fought the feeling and looked around again. Of all the places that they could have picked they chose one of that memories attached to it, but, she was used to that. She debated with herself for a moment asking if she should forget the money and head back towards town. Fear was not one of her favorite emotions. Why did she take such risks? As she mulled over the pros and cons the night grew deeper and darker, the tranquility of the place had all but vanished. Then her blood froze nothing could have prepared her for this adventure/nightmare for it was becoming clear she was never supposed to leave this place. Here in the heart of darkness under the shadow of the mountain there was no escape... if only she had built a fire there would be some light. She made to get up to look for firewood when the icy cold hand closed around her ankle and pulled her back down to the ground.

"Stay still and for the love of god don't scream." The voice was almost a whisper beside her ear. she shivered and made to open her mouth when she felt hot breath against the flesh of her neck. Checking the urge to scream in terror as cool lips pressed against her throat where her arteries and veins were pumping her life ever forward. A single tear slipped down her cheek as razor sharp incisors parted her skin, releasing the crimson flow. Not wanting to waste her, the man began to drink his fill.

she felt herself swimming, falling inside a cold cage, slowly she felt her life draining away one mouthful at a time. A growl rose from the vampire, she was no virgin but, still her spirit was strong and her blood was sweet, the growl changed to one of satisfaction.

"Ivan" he chortled through his fangs, "come enjoy this feast." When there was silence he stopped feeding. Ivan never refused a meal, besides the way he had been eyeing her he was sure Ivan had wanted to change her. She moaned in pain, still in the trance. "Ivan!" he hissed "your dinner is getting cold." Then he felt the heat. He threw the girl from him and spun to face the source, the fire blinded him before he coiled back.

"Hmm a vampire afraid?!" came a mocking voice from inside the flame, "Now there is something you don't see every night." The mocking voice continued, "I'm sorry but your friend Ivan will not being dining with you this evening, for you see Mr. V has become my new campfire."

The man who had been addressed as Mr. V hissed menacingly and took a small step back. His first thought was to distract the hunter. The only question in his mind was how to go about it. Then he heard the soft whimper of pain escape the lips of the harlot, and knew he might actually escape this encounter tonight. Reaching out he closed his hand in her hair and tisked softly.

"Dear hunter, I have a present for you... can you save her?" as the last words left his lips, he pulled the girl up and sank his fangs into her again. As he pulled his head away from her throat, he watched as the blood ran down her body. His lips parted in a cruel smile as he threw the girl none too gently towards the flames. 

The smell of toasted sugar filled the dimly lit living room. The soft pat and swish of small feet tracked her progress across the abused oak floor. Delicate, perfectly manicured fingers reached out to stroke the side of my neck. I tilted my head to the side slightly to give those fingers free reign over my exposed flesh. Her hands were as soft as satin, still warm from the extremely hot spray of the shower, that she had just finished taking. Her long auburn hair wrapped tightly in the oversized forest green towel. The startling white of her favorite summer dress seems to brighten the room. Her beautiful angelic voice bid the release of the well-loved paperback clutched between my own neglected fingers. The sigh had barely escaped my lips before the book was on the bed beside me, her fingers running through my shoulder length hair. Her emerald eyes staring deep into my soul. My heart thundering in my chest as her arms wrapped around me and pulled me in close to her, her lips brushing against my hair. Her voice once again beckoned movement out of my tired and sore limbs. As I got to my feet and trudged into the bathroom her voice floated after me reminding me that I had better hurry or we were going to be late. I slipped into the already full bathtub and gasped at the feeling of the heat on my tired muscles.

The sound of the ancient stereo system coming to life blasting her favorite station through worn speakers made me smile. Her voice carried into the bathroom as she sang along, to a song I had heard, but never liked. The bass rattled the countertops as she pushed the stereo to compete with the girls downstairs, and their awful taste in pre-teen pop music. Song after song played and the time ticked away…. Time I never thought about. I hurried to dry off and pull on my slacks and button my blouse. We never made it to the show that night.

As time has passed I have finally started to realize that the love I shared with her were some of the happiest and yet the most depressing days of my life. I was happy to be with her and depressed to know that it would not last. She was my everything; she was the sun on cloudy days, the stars that lit up the night sky all for me. She was my pillar of strength when I had none and she was my best friend. 

For the first time in what feels like months I have once again wrapped horribly abused fingers around a quill and for once, since everything has changed, I feel human. I estimate that it has been at least a season since my feet have touched the sweet softness of freshly plowed dirt. If I dream and wish hard enough I can smell the sweat of the draft horse my father purchased the summer before last. He was underfed and mistreated, he was terrified of my father for the longest time, yet he held no fear of me. We bonded under the apple tree in the pasture. It took the whole season for my father to get anywhere near him.

I never told my father that I had been riding his work horse for almost half of the summer. I am sure he suspected it, but he never said anything about it. I only realized he knew the day he handed me the bucket of brushes. He had warned my brothers away from the “Beast”, his affectionate term for the horse.

I admit I have lost track of the days. The icy stones underfoot, tell that winter approaches. Each morning it seems the stones hold even more of a chill then the day before. I hate to think of the chill that this place will hold as winter rages over the land. There is no reason for my captors to keep me locked away so far from the ground. I miss the smell of dirt and earth. I am not sure how many days I have spent locked away in this dank place; they moved me here not long after I arrived. I have tried to reach the outer shutters on the bared window and cannot get them to close. Each day this almost barren room seems to pull the warmth right out of me. I fear I will not last the winter if I continue to receive no fire wood to burn in the small fireplace in the corner. 

I can feel your roughened fingers closing around my throat, scratching at my flesh. My own fingers, broken, bruised and mangled trying to clutch at the wrists that connected to the hands that were forcing the black to creep across my eyes.  I can see the spirit inside your body, laughing, his eyes shining in your ribs as your fingers get tighter and tighter. I tried to warn you not to open the box, but you wouldn’t listen to me. I should have known that you would have given in to him, looking back, I already knew, as soon as you pulled it out to look at it I knew you had already given in, but I believed in you. I thought you were stronger than the pull that has wrapped its twisted little body in your skin. You told me once you would never hurt me, and now I am reeling and trying to figure out, as I try desperately to breathe, why you would have turned on me and how you could have gotten this box to begin with.

I remember the tale that someone told me once about a boy who had called wolf; I never thought that the wolf could be something besides a wolf, stupid child. I understand now what the story is about, and how we have come to this place. I understand now that he…I…was the target. It….that little twisted and tormented soul…it wanted me, it wanted to kill me. To have me gasping for breath on my knees before it as it stared down at me from the body of the man that had claimed to love me. As that same man crushed the life out of my body with the hands that promised to hold me and not hurt me, closed around my throat like it was just some sort of old cloth to be rung out and then hung up to dry.

I see the world now looking down on it, I can see him standing over me, and the grin on his face is like nothing I have ever seen from him before, for as long as I knew him he was kind and gentle. The man was hard pressed to kill a bug that was annoying him. This…this was something dark and tainted and for some reason it wanted me. Not my soul but my body. It wanted something I was not willing to give it. Even if he had asked for it nicely I would not have let him have it today. Something about him had just been so wrong. Wait…why…why am I sinking…what is going on?

With searing pain that ran from the top of the throat down into lungs starved for oxygen, the breaths came in ragged hard gasps that turned to coughs. Hands instantly moved to clutch at her sides as she forced her body to try and take slow normal breaths. This was the one part of the job that she hated; coming back from the places she had been taken by the dead. This poor woman had seen something that no mortal should have to ever see. In her career she had never seen anything like this before. This thing that had murdered this young woman was very new to her. She had seen something like it written about in a book some time ago but the creature…it didn’t even have a name. This was something she was very much not prepared for, as she took more and more breaths the familiar pair of boots entered her vision and she could not help but smile.

“Inspector so nice to see you again, I was wondering when you would come hunt me out again” Her voice was horse but she pushed through it as she did her best to get up off the scratched, stained, and abused floor of the small home she lived in. It was not every day that the inspector came to see her, she would have to write down everything she had seen before she talked to him. She managed to get to her feet, before she headed to the pages she had left on the small table and she began to scribble out words, which would help her later to return to the memory if she needed to. As she finished she turned and looked at the inspector who had made himself comfortable in the only shabby chair in her living room. She turned and put her hands on her hips as she looked him over, he looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He must have some new and interesting case that he didn’t want anyone else to solve before him. This was going to be an interesting night after all. Maybe another murder, her mind continued to wander until she noticed he was holding something out to her. She moved, in a swish of skirts and closed her hand around what he had held out and with a hiss and the smell of charred flesh she dropped it onto the floor glaring down at the metal that had singed her flesh to the bone.