The Slayer

The man was known as "Slayer", his Christian name had never been uttered to your knowledge. He was supposedly hell bent on revenge, his family bloodlines having been completely erased with the exception of one, himself. As the killings had continued, growing in number and in their horror word had been sent and he was to arrive this day. Your father, the mayor of the hamlet had already prepared lodging for him and would host a feast in his honor that very night, a feast you were informed you would attend.

You heard the rider approaching, the long shadows of day falling prior to the onset of night. Looking out your window you saw the man dressed in black, his long cape covered in dust, his journey arduous on his steed, the poor animal looked like it was nearing exhaustion. He handed the reins to a stable boy, his words obviously spoken with intent as the young lad listened carefully before hurrying to do the man's bidding. It was then you realized that he was looking at you. Quickly you withdrew from the window, wondering what a man like this "Slayer" would be like, a question soon to be answered.

The gala was to be at eight, the hour drawing near and as you had witnessed quite a few of the local hierarchy arrive you had sat in waiting, not wanting to put in an appearance until it was absolutely necessary. A get together such as this usually ended with your father trying to find yet another presentable suitor for your hand, something you had insisted you needed no assistance with but to no avail. With a final glance in the mirror, insuring all was right; you walked out the door and began to descend the staircase.

The reception you expected, certainly the one you received from your father was unexpected. His brow was furrowed; he was sweating profusely as he muttered to himself. "Father, what's wrong?"

He looked at you, his eyes rolling, "Everything my dear. Everything is wrong. The gentleman refuses to join us for this evenings feast; he says he prefers to eat alone and that he desires the young woman he saw when he arrived to deliver his meal. I can only assume he means you my daughter. Go to the kitchen, prepare him his own feast and take it to him immediately, I fear he grows impatient. I have to deal with the guests and I have no idea how I will tell them."

With that he took your leave and as you stood there fuming, you though the audacity of such a man. You were no servant, no chambermaid to be at his beck and call. The food you prepared was to best be described as "scraps", the end of the roasted pig, the most wilted of the greens, the wine the dregs of a bottle long gone bad as you smiled, preparing the visitor's "feast" before remembering where you had to go in order to deliver it, the bowels of the castle. You took a candle, lighting it as you began to make your ways down the winding stairs, the coolness of the air turning almost frigid by the time you stepped back onto solid ground.

The candle provided little illumination, the many cobwebs and trappings of a part of the castle used very little in the past awaiting you. You shook your head, wondering why this man would want to stay in such a seedy environment when there were many rooms, some ornately decorated, much preferable to this squalor. It was only when you heard him clear his throat; a sound which startled you, drawing a brief gasp from your lips did you then realize he was watching you. "Please, leave the food and I thank thee miss."

You peered into the darkness, in the direction the voice had come from. The sound so soft, not like what you had felt a man of such stature might sound like. "Good sir, my father has asked that I deliver the food in person, will you not show me the person who demanded as such?" The sigh which escaped his lips did so as a sign of resignation, footsteps to be heard as he drew near until suddenly he appeared before you, his eyes watching as yours grew wide at his visage. The scar ran from the corner of one eye, all the way down to his lip. The wound had been deep, a painful reminder of an encounter in his past, one that you could only wonder at as he took the tray from your hands.

His voice was weary, his posture the same. "Go now for you have looked upon the monster and you may tell those gathered of his deformity, it matters not to me."

Your hand reached out, the open palm slapping his face, the tray falling from his hands as he stood there, his eyes of blue turning dark, nearly black in appearance. "You insult me sir, you ask for me like I was a slave at your beck and call, demand my appearance and then you put words in my mouth, treating me as if I were some common gossip mongering washerwoman. I am the daughter of the mayor and I will form my own opinions and speak my own thoughts. Your so called "deformity" lives only in your mind, not in mine so do not feel that you can speak for me."

For a brief moment, a second in time you thought he would strike at you, to lash out but as you saw the fight go out of his eyes it was replaced by that same soft voice, barely heard above a whisper saying, "A thousand pardons m'lady, you see now why I refused your father's kind offer of the grand gathering, I fear my social skills are sorely lacking and for that I do deeply apologize. I saw your face in the window and for a moment I dared think that.", his words trailing off, his body turning to walk back into the darkness. You watched as he walked slowly away, the flickering candle marking his exit as you said, "No, wait, please?"

He turned, his face hidden in the shadows, a look which you knew might bring him comfort though you wished otherwise saying, "I shall return shortly m'lord, you need a warm meal and wine to battle this chill, I insist." He tried to protest but your stance and your eyes would accept no other answer as he nodded in reply. "Thank you miss, I am in your debt and once again I..." but you turned your back, walking away, waving your hand in forgetting and in forgiving. As you climbed the stairs you felt your heart racing, though you were not sure so much from the exertion of climbing as from the presence of another.

It was later that you sat, your eyes peering into the gloom to watch as he ate, his manners in contrast to his appearance. Reaching into his pack, pulling forth a beaten pewter cup he poured some of the wine within before holding it out and saying, "Will you join me m'lady, I would be honored to have you do so." Your smile was brief but warm as you reached out and as he handed you the fragrant cup, your hands touched, a spark flying forth. You withdrew, your hand shaking, your heart pounding anew as you used both hands to drink, hoping he did not notice the trembling fingers which clutched their prize.

You forced your voice to remain calm, belying your feelings as you said, "My father tells me if there is any man who can stop this madness, you are that man."

His chest did not puff out, his manner showed no bravado if anything he seemed to deflate under such praise saying softly, "Your father is too kind in his words to a man such as I m'lady, I will do what I can and pray it will be enough." You took another sip, your eyes seeing his as if for the first time as you replied, "Do you know who does these murders, the man responsible?" His eyes now found yours and you saw the anger flash in them. "He is no man m'lady, 'tis the devil himself, one who calls himself...Dormand."

The name spoken so chillingly, your arms going around you to ward off the cold and your thoughts as he continued, "Dormand killed my family, took my parents, my sister, he took everything from me and for that he will pay, dearly." Once again those eyes turned, lost in his desire for revenge and you wondered if perhaps his heart was as cold as his orbs of such a brilliant blue. Finally he shook his head, as if clearing the cobwebs from within before saying, "Please forgive me miss, tales of such are not for the ears of one as young as you. We should speak of other things, please?"

You began to remind him again of what you would and would not speak of but you heard his voice, almost pleading if you will and you remained silent, simply nodding as he began to eat. Sitting in silence, watching the figure in the shadows, your feelings concerning him a mixture, a jumble of emotions running the spectrum as you wondered why? He was handsome in his own right though you felt he feared not, his long brown hair falling down past his shoulders, his eyes of blue which could show such kindness yet within seconds such rage. He was ominous in size yet almost meek in appearance, a trait he probably showed few and you wondering why he had shared it with you.

He finished the meal, folding the napkin in place, wiping the plate clean or as best he could before handing them to you. "Thank you m'lady, the food was exceptional only to be exceeded by the conversation and the company."

You felt the blush rise to your cheeks, a smile forming at your lips as you curtsied in return. "I thank you m'lord for your kind words and I would wish you a good nights sleep." With that you turned, beginning to make your way towards the waiting stairs but before you took one you stopped, turning and saying, "I pray kind sir, may I ask one thing of you?"

You saw his silhouette, his form in the dark turn, his voice responding in kind, "Ask what you may, I shall answer in kind." Smiling, you said, "I am Brielle, daughter of Alexander and you, may I know of your name, please sir?"

"Jonathan m'lady, Jonathan Samuels at your service and pleased to make the acquaintance of the lovely daughter of the mayor." Once again you felt your face flush, the stairs beckoning you but by the time you had climbed them you were smiling widely. Unfortunately your good humor was about to be tested, sorely.

Entering the grand ballroom you saw the festivities were still in process, your father motioning for you to join him, a circle of men standing alongside. As you did, you saw others you knew, smiling, nodding in acquaintance. "Well my dear, we were discussing our missing guest, I pray he found our hospitality pleasurable?"

Before you could answer you heard the voice of the chancellor, a man whose common sense was far outweighed by his own weight, a large, rotund man mutter, "He accepts your food, drink, your daughter yet he hides like a common coward while men stand by to honor him, hail him. I fail to see where a man of such ilk will provide little assistance in our current situation."

You felt the anger rise from deep within you, the nerve of such a man. Your father seemed to take the man's cowardly barbs at hand but you would not, you could not. "Chancellor, I feel you speak such words only because you feel there is no one here who will challenge your obvious ignorance."

The men murmured, your father turning with a astonished look on his face saying, "Brielle, you should not speak to the Chancellor in such a manner, I forbid...".

His words were quickly interrupted, your body moving to stand in front of the large man who stared back, his eyes small, beady as he heard, "The man you speak of carries the heart of a lion, his desire for revenge for what this monster has done to him and his line consuming him until the thirst can only be quenched by either destroying his prey or being destroyed himself."

There would be no stopping you, the torrent of words continuing, "He is indeed a man of quiet countenance, his face marred and such he feels to put himself on parade in front of such pompous fools as yourself will only cause their tongues to wag even more so. He cares not for your accolades or praise; he is consumed by only one thing and one thing only. I believe it is the reason he was asked to be here and I am sure he will succeed in his task though I'm sure he will find no help from men who would stand idly by and fling their words like so many arrows but always missing their mark." With that you turned on your heels, walking quickly past your father and back up the stairs, preferring your own company to that of the moment.

The men stood in stunned silence until finally your father turned with a sigh saying, "I must apologize for my daughter Chancellor, like her mother, god rest her soul, she has a tendency to say things in haste."

The pot bellied man waved his hands, a thin smile on his lips. "'Tis not of importance, the girl is young and naïve in the ways of men. I would warn you though Alexander this man has obviously made quite an impression on your daughter, I would keep a close eye on him if I were you." The mayor nodded, the chancellor turning, biding goodnight others as he made his way through the throng before finally exiting the castle and making his way into the darkness.

The large man lay in bed that night, his snoring loud but it scared not the creature who landed on the windowsill. The crow watched him with beady eyes, waiting until suddenly he seemed to take a deep breath and when he exhaled the essence of another escaped his lips, moving silently through the night to its new host, the bird. It took off in flight, soaring over the kingdom before coming to rest deep in the woods, a cave which it flew into, disappearing from sight. A sudden burst of light and now he stood, a man in appearance, a demon in reality, this was Dormand.

His appearance was deceiving, he was slight of build, thin, his hair as dark as the night, his eyes the same. He spoke not aloud, preferring his own company to that of others. He had walked this earth for centuries, taking what he wanted, the lives of others, their souls which kept him young in appearance and satisfied in his desires. The screams of his victims were like music to his ears and he had been far too long since his last conquest and all because of that bastard Samuels. The man had been the only survivor, Dormand's presence, his poison, his touch having been sufficient to end every life he had entered, all except for one, his. The scar was a constant reminder not only to the man who even now slept warmly in a bed while his prey stood in this dark, damp environment but also to the demon, a mistake he would not make a second time.

Moving his hand, a slight of hand if you will and the appearance of a snifter of brandy which he drank from, the warmth fueling his fire as he remembered the way you had talked to him. The chancellor would be found in the morning, dead of an apparent heart attack and Dormand shuddered, remembering how it had appalled him to take the shape of such a fool. It had however provided him with a much needed opportunity, the way perhaps to bring an end to this troublesome human's life while tasting the flesh of what he knew was a pure, untouched soul, yours. He could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, you had garnered strong emotions with the appearance of the stranger and only a fool would not reciprocate. Samuels he knew, was no fool.

It was late, much later that the crow flew in through your open window. He perched on one of the four corners of the bed, staring intently at you for a moment as if in thought. From there he took flight, landing in your dressing area, his eyes finding the object of his attraction. Your brush lay there, the same brush which you had used for years prior to going to bed. With his beak, he pecked at the bristles, pulling out several strands of your hair which he clutched, his prize held firmly as he took you leave, swiftly returning to his lair and his earlier form.

It was daybreak when he finished, the spell having been written, the strands of hair the catalyst and as he spoke them aloud, the morning sun was blocked by angry clouds, their darkness consuming the kingdom. It was as if night had replaced day and with the final word spoken thunder began to rumble and lightening exploded through the sky, a foreshadowing of the darkness which was about to befall not only you but the man you had only met hours ago as well. His dark eyes piercing, he watched as the vision began to appear before him, each piece of the puzzle perfect in his duplicity until it was created. The figure stood there as she was born, naked and when her eyes took in his sight, she knelt in submission saying in a voice eerily familiar to you as your own, "I serve at the pleasure of my Master. How may I serve you my lord?" His smile was cruel, he knew to control her completely he must possess her in the ways of the flesh and with that he fell upon her.

That night as the two lay beside one another she listened as explained what he required of her. "I will handle the fair Brielle, you will make sure that I am never to look upon the visage of the man Samuel's face again. Take what you will from him, his pain or your pleasure but in the end destroy him and with your final words tell him who has brought about his downfall, the one he knows as Dormand. Is that clear my beauty?"

She smiled, nodding and saying, "It shall be as you decree my lord, he will suffer greatly for having dared stand against you, this I swear." He reached out, his hand pulling at her hair forcefully, bringing her to him and as she cried out in delicious pain he pictured you in her place.

Removing you from your home had been child's play for the demon. The crow flying in, his vision changing as you slept and with a simple wave of his hand you were transported to the cave. The woman he had conjured taking your place, her prey in the bowels of the castle, her thoughts on him and his destruction. For now though, you were their main priority, especially Dormand's. The spell he had written for the occasion left you sleeping while he worked out his plan, this time not merely desiring to kill you but in the process to destroy everything you held dear, your heart, your soul, you very reason for living. Dormand had always been able to resemble the animals of the kingdom, what he had planned though would tax even his resources as a shape shifter. His accomplice had provided him with an item of the man Samuels clothing and he had used it as his template and now, now was to be the time for the changing.

Everything was in place, the dark magic providing the backdrop for what was to follow and as you opened your eyes you did so it seemed in your bed. The morning light shone through the window, the dream you had awakened from so real, almost as if you could reach out and touch it. You rose, cinching the garment around you and walking to the window where you looked down to see the stranger preparing to mount his steed. He saw you, giving you a wave, his voice kind saying, "I must travel the lands m'lady, perchance you might show me the kingdom if I may impose?" You nodded your agreement, hurrying to change and aware of a feeling unlike ever before, a tingling of your body, especially in places that up until now you had paid little heed to.

Your steed was prepared, waiting alongside his though you did not remember seeing the stable master or giving the command. There also was a hamper affixed to his ride, a pretence showing it was to be a full day's ride. You climbed aboard easily, having ridden for many, many years and seconds later the two of you were off, heading away from the castle and into the forest. As you rode you would glance over at the man who seemed intent on staring ahead, his posture a bit stiff, his bearing not quite as you remembered though he still was as handsome as you had remembered. It was his eyes, when he turned his head to favor you with a quick smile which set your body on fire as if possessed by another, a feeling both frightening and arousing all within the same moments breath.

As you rode it was only then that you noticed that you had dressed differently than at other times. Usually when you rode you did so in leggings and a long sleeved blouse, protection against the brambles and other pitfalls of the forest. Instead this day you wore garments of silk, especially those underneath your meager shift, the corset low cut to provide amble sight to your heaving bosom, the feel of the saddle between your legs seeming to only fan the flames of desire which grew hotter and hotter every time you would looks his way. By the time he called a halt, the horses coming to a stop and you prepared to dismount you felt as if you were running a fever, your face flushed, your skin alive with thoughts of his hands upon you.