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I am not the type to venture north. Just like heat, I loathe the cold, but this is an exception. Blood stains my body, but it has long since dried, it reveals of my recent prey. A stallion, tainted with wickedness and sin. He is my first target since arriving in this disgusting heap of rock called Helovia. He is the first of many that will die by my horn. These monsters shall be vanquished. My flame and drive has been relit by my need for their blood.
Before I finished off that stallion, he gave me but one hint as to the location of another. He had thought information would result in mercy. I merely laugh. North he had told me, head north and I would find the Temptress. I can already begin to decipher who this ‘Temptress’ is, I know it in my bones, she is the bride of my Sin. He shall lose one of his most beloved followers. The abomination will be pierced with my horn, and her blood will spill upon the snow. Today, I, Vulture, will make a difference in the world
Then I see her, a coat so light, and wings spreading out from her body. Why this temptress possesses the boy of a child is beyond me, but I can see the power behind it. Let others see innocence, when she is truly a vile being of malice. There is no hesitation, my need for her blood to spill swells inside of me. First I will pluck those wings, I will shatter them, completely cripple that loathsome creature.
“Your Sinner betrayed you little whore,” I say, my tone gleeful. I am excited; I am ready to sever the head from this little filly’s body. Oh yes, I will taste of her blood. I pace about her, and I watch her, scanning her with a hungry gaze. My pale eyes narrow as I decipher where I shall cut first. “Hm…” I whisper, my eyes fall upon those full wings. They have to be the first to go. Yes, they must be severed from her body and trampled into the snow. Maybe I could even plucked a few feathers to decorate my hair as a trophy. Oh yes, I am not the type for trophies, but this would be an exception made. This death is of great significance, she is the very bride of my enemy.
“Time for me to play,” I purr, “And time for you to die my sweet Temptress. I’ll send you back to the depths of hell. Give your beloved my regards.” I stop my pacing and lunge toward the filly, my head is lowered, horn aiming toward her left wing. My blood is shooting through me as I anticipate what blood will be dripping into the snow, I want it. Most of all, I want her to suffer, because I had to suffer. I had to suffer because of her. So now, she will be ripped from this mortal body and given over to my horn, which is craving her flesh already.
and so by degrees – very gradually –I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.
@[Aurelia]
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