The Early Lessons

[Jenica Sabiny]

Further and farther, she moved with slowing her limping gait. The internal damage was still extensive enough that the thought of running sent splints of pain through her, and the growing fear of what he might do swelled in her belly and began creeping up, through her spine, ready to explode across her brain and leave her paralyzed.

But nothing happened. No hand grabbed her arm and flung her around to face the wrath, no wall of shadows appeared before her to block her in. She was surprised and unsure. She had expected everything but freedom.

When he spoke, she turned and gazed back at him, an easy, relaxed look on her face. She didn't fear him any more than she had to, and he didn't seem to want to hurt her for now.

His comment rang in her ears as she examined it, carefully picking it apart until the meaning gleamed forth. Did it imply fear of mortals? The thought made her snort, a loud, painful reaction that gave away just how much her lungs had healed. She would never fear mortals, for she was what they feared. Not Death itself; that was an implicit fear in every being on dirt, even animals. No, she was the feral predator, unpredictable and vicious. She wasn't just their death; she was the embodiment of a guaranteed painful and hard death. For all that mortals wanted, above anything else, was an easy death, slipping away in their sleep into the peaceful land of eternal dreams.

She didn't kill out of mercy, and she showed none for those she mutilated. The idea of one of those disfigured corpses fighting back made a lazy grin appear on her face, before she turned her back to him once more and continued on. Perhaps it was a new game. Find a fighter, a strapping young warrior, and strip away pieces to see how long he would fight, how long it took his natural instinct to no longer fight death kick in. Her sire had a use after all. He'd given her an idea.

She reached the trees and continue forward, sniffing the air for water. She didn't care about her appearance, but the smell of carnage and bowels was too much, even for her. She would dive into the first stream or pond she found and let the water soak the death from her clothes and skin.