Dream of Xanthos

She was alone in the rain. Her thick flowing hair was weighing on her shoulders as she gazed across the manicured lawn. Her face was the color of ash. She possessed a solemn constitution as she realized what she must do. Her heart was beating like a drum. She licked her lips and tasted the moisture collecting upon them, yet her throat felt dry and hoarse as if she had been screaming for hours.

Her chest ached and a tear streamed from the corner of her eye. She pulled her coat off one arm at a time, bracing herself as a runner would before a race. She saw her target. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath filled with purpose. The slow churning squeak of a nearby sign blowing in the wind reverberated in her ears and she heard the song of the birds chirping in the trees; keeping warm against each other in the cold winter rain. A cold blast of wind caused a lock of her hair to whip against her stone face as she began to rise, eyes closed, ozone filling her nostrils. She clenched her jaw and focused on what she must do.

Calm and collected; she saw the man she had to remove from existence before her. She saw his wicked smirk, his taut muscles clearly outlined even beneath his thick black trench coat as he paced back and forth. Such a pleasing figure to lay eyes upon, yet such a plague upon her kind.

Suddenly she sprang straight up and began to propel toward her destination, determination driving her movements. She unsheathed her knife as she drew closer. It happened in the blink of an eye, but it felt as if she had been closing the gap for ages. He felt her coming close and whirred around meeting her gaze, his coat flinging water in a circle around him as he threw his arms to his sides in a taunting gesture, raising his chin to her advance. His smile broadened at her look of hatred and desperation. Her will to fight was a game to him.

She flew into him like a ton of bricks aiming her knife for his throat. His forearm blocked her thrust, and he locked his fingers around her wrist, twisting it painfully causing her to drop the blade into the mud. She cried out into the brisk air but quickly regained her composure; ignoring the pain as she locked her fingers in return around his forearm.Twisting out of his grasp she flipped him onto his back. He tried to rise but was quickly deterred with use of her heeled boot which slammed him into the ground with a wet splashing thud.

He glared at her as she moved over him. Bloodthirsty vengeance flashed in her eyes. He read her expression and laughed a loud laugh that rang out piercing the deadly silence.

This angered her and she screamed, "Silence, you arrogant bastard!" Her voice was filled with rage, loud and harsh with a threatening tone. His laugh slowed to a giggle as he looked at her mockingly, enjoying her game of revenge.

He spoke, clearly amused, " You think you can just waltz out here and take me?"

He laughed more, a spark of sadistic cruelty behind his eyes. His laughter faded into a growl as he said, "You don't have a chance, orphan."

She smiled down at him. Her eyes gleamed with such deadly ferocity that the look in them could have killed any other man at twenty paces.

She spoke in return, her sultry voice seething with disdain, “You are wrong this time, Magdon. I have the upper hand. For eight years I have dreamt of this moment. You will suffer so much more than they did. I can promise you that.” An invisible force struck him hard across the face, causing his head to turn with a jolt.He licked his lips, tasting blood.

He laid a cold hand upon her ankle. She dug her heel into the flesh of his chest, but he just smiled as he stared into her eyes. His grip tightened as his smile widened and with a flick of his wrist she was flying through the air. She made contact with a nearby tree and her head against it made a sickening crack. She tumbled to the ground. Blood flowed from her fractured skull mingling with the mini-ravines of rain formed in the mud. The rainfall turned the area around her into a pool of red; looking so innocent, like a child's watercolor painting upon the earth.

She breathed shallow breaths and coughed up blood as she heard his heavy wet footsteps approaching. Her eyelids fluttered as drops of rain fell upon them. She saw his face as he bent over her.

He whispered in her ear as he brushed his fingers through her now tangled hair. "As I said, orphan. You don't stand a chance. Let this be a message to your pathetic band of half-wits. You cannot touch me,"

Her light brown hair stuck to her clammy wet skin as her lip trembled and she breathed her final breaths.

"You cannot touch me, fair one." He repeated as he stroked her hair; smiling down at her as she struggled to inhale.

He stood up and pulled his blade free of its sheath with a metallic hiss. He raised the weapon over himself and with one flowing movement removed her head from her body. Metal rang in the air as it hit bone. The cheerful song of the birds mingling with the soft patter of rain continued.

Magdon knelt back down, his knee plunging into the mud beside the corpse.He placed his right hand against her sternum. A soft glow resonated from his palm. His fingers became translucent as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Her body shuddered, though dead, still reacting to what he was doing to her. His hand shone brighter now, her torso glowing now as well, becoming translucent. You could see her still heart and entrails through her skin as the glow became more powerful. A soft haze of red cascaded down her body, making her entire skeleton visible through her flesh.

Streams of the energy ran up her legs towards her heart; collecting at the spot upon which his hand rested. His face distorted in shape becoming thinner. His blue eyes became black and his red lips twisted gruesomely revealing rows of sharp fangs instead of pearly white teeth. Black veins became pronounced throughout his entire body like a poison was coursing through his blood as the red energy flowed into his hand. He laughed but it sounded more like a bestial growl as he reveled in the pleasure of her bodies life force.

He tilted his head back in enjoyment, the rain falling upon his face as the energy moved into his hand faster. He growled low and hissed as her body began to convulse and her skin became blue and sunken, the flesh deflating almost like a tire.

As the last of the red energy was pulled into him his eyes flashed hungrily and he howled into the crisp winter night. He leapt upon her corpse like a rabid animal and feasted upon the decayed flesh; ripping chunks from her and scarfing them down his throat with a swallow. His fingers, now sickly grey claws, raked her once beautiful skin leaving deep gashes in her flesh. Her disembodied head lay beside her, watching him feast with wide eyes from beyond the grave. A message indeed.