Vengeance is Mine - Victoria Morelya's story

[vlowe72]

Suffer not a witch to live"  Exodus 22:18

The living will suffer by my hand. - Nightshade

Without hesitation, Victoria drank down the liquid.  It was bitter and burned her throat but she did not gag.  She had had long practice in consuming substances that would choke the insides of most people.  She lowered the wooden cup to the ground and closed her eyes.  Her hands felt for the other flask which she slipped into a dress pocket.  It was done.  In two hours, she would either consume the antidote or she would die.

She glanced at the clear sky and calculated the time.  Midnight.  He would be here soon.  A strong breeze stirred the leaves and swirled around here and she shivered.  Or perhaps he was already here.

"Why have you come, druid?"  The voice seemed to come from the very trees, but her keen night vision spotted a tall silhouette near the edge of the forest.  A long black cloak swirled around the form and silver eyes glittered in the darkness.

She felt no fear.  The worst that Nightshade could do was kill her.  The potion she had drunk would ensure that she could not be made to serve as an undead minion.

"To be honest, I am not sure.  You have been an enemy of the Druids for a long time, but now our order is no more.  You have won, Nightshade.  I am at your mercy."

"I have been cheated!"  Nightshade hissed.  "They died a quick death, a merciful death!  They should have died slowly, so that I could feel and taste their fear!  I have no vengeance!"  The dark form stepped forward and now she could see the pale white face framed by long white hair that whipped in the wind.  "The ignorant people of this land killed my family with their superstitions and the Druids in their damned 'code of neutrality' stood by and let it happen!  I will slaughter them all like cattle!  They will see that there is no neutrality."

"I agree," she said softly.

A long silence.  Then he spoke and incredibly there was uncertainty in his voice.  "You... side with me?"

"They have killed all that I hold dear as well.  You are right.  Neutrality is a form of cowardice.  No longer am I a druid, but an avenging angel.  By the nature of your curse, you are limited to this forest.  I have no such limitations.  Teach me all you know of the dark powers and both you and I will have our revenge... Davon"

He considered a moment, then nodded.  "It has been a long time since anyone called me by that name.  But your offer is acceptable.  Provided of course..." He grinned the smile of a shark.  "that you bring the occasional one to this place as well."

She returned his smile "We have a bargain.  You teach me of the dark powers, and I will teach you the strengths and vulnerabilities of Druidic magic."  She pulled out the flask, uncorked it and quickly drained the contents.  She wiped her lips, and although she still smiled, her eyes were cold and deadly.

"Shall we begin?"

[vlowe72]

At her command, the vines encircled his throat, cutting of his air.  His eyes bulged and he thrashed wildly, but the branches and thorns held him fast.  She waited until his thrashing slowed, then she mentally released him, just enough for him to gasp in a quick breath.

She smiled at him and calmly spoke as if they were holding a casual conversation in a tavern.  "Do you know who I am?"

He spat at her, blood mixed with the saliva.  "You're the thrice damned witch we've been hunting for."

She struck him, her nails digging furrows through his cheek.  "Witch?  You and your kind throw that word around so casually, without knowing the true nature of what you seek.  You execute terrified young girls in cold blood to satisfy some warped sense of self righteousness.  Or maybe just to satisfy plain old male lust.  I neither know nor care for your reasons.  The point is, you have yet to face a real witch."

Several drops of blood trickled from his scratched faced and dripped off the edge of his chin  She reached out and caught one on the tip of her finger.  She looked at it for a long while, then stuck the end in her mouth.  Her smile returned.

"I'll not deny it.  I am a witch."  She laughed  "There.  How many hours did you have to torture girls to get them to admit that?  Think of all the time and trouble I've just saved you."  She put her hands on her hips in mock consternation.  "Now the only question that remains..."  The side of her mouth curved upwards "...am I a good witch or a bad witch?"

She leaned in close as if to kiss him, hovering very close to his ear and whispered.  "Let me assure you.  I am very, Very... bad."

She gestured again.  The vines raised him several inches off the ground, forcing all his weight against his upper arms.  He screamed as a shoulder popped out of his socket.

She stood and watched him die, which took almost an hour.  She wrinkled her nose as his lifeless body dropped to the ground with a soft thump. 

"Come, Agatha, " she called.  The panther bounded in and looked at her, then to the body.  It licked its lips in anticipation and returned its gaze to its mistress.

She nodded.  "Enjoy yourself.  We have some traveling to do, later, and we'll want to build up our strength."  She turned away as the great cat began it's meal.  She pursed her lips at the ripping wet sounds.  Did Agatha always have to eat so... noisily?

She shivered and drew her cloak around her.  Unseasonably cold for late summer.  Perhaps winter was coming early this year.  She checked the sky.

Hmm.  Quite a bit of fog coming in.  She might have to delay her plans.

[vlowe72]

In a blind panic, she stumbled and landed face down in the grass.  Darkness had come, and for the first time in many years she felt fear.  She crawled over to a tree and huddled underneath it, her arms wrapped around her knees, whimpering softly.

Agatha, sensing her mistress' distress, purred in her throat and nuzzled her.  She gratefully stroked the panther's head.  "I'm glad I've not lost you, my friend.  But you made be better off without me.  I will not last long, if the witchhunters find me."

She closed her eyes and tried to tap into the Earthpower.  She could sense it, but it was faint and muffled, almost as if she were trying to talk to someone deep at the bottom of a well.  Her power was less than a fraction of what it had been before she had... arrived.  And she desperately needed her power.  There had been hazards in her old forest, but nothing like this.  Just by being out after dark, she was in great danger.

She looked up and saw the faint glow of lights in the distance.  Civilization.  She wrinkled her nose.  When was the last time she had walked among... people?  The thought almost made her retch.  The rare times that she needed to replace clothing or weapons, she usually just took them from those who were sleeping or those she... punished.  The homes here, though were locked up tight after dark.  And she didn't have the power to take anything by force.  That left only one option.

"There is no choice, Agatha.  I have to find..." She almost choked on the word.  "...allies."

She got up and smoothed out her skirt.  She checked herself critically.  "Well, I at least look presentable, if a bit disheveled.  Come Agatha, but stick to the shadows.  Commoners don't tend to... react well to your presence."

...

She wanted to gag.  People were everywhere, and they all emitted noises and smells.  She put a hand on the wall to keep herself from stumbling.  Luckily no one was paying her any attention, as she took deep breaths to get her revulsion under control.  She straightened her back and walked with dignity to the back of the tavern.

A hand slapped her rear end.  "Hey, a new face.  What's your name, beautiful?"  She whirled around her eyes wide and her fingers hooked into claws.  The drunk saw her look and backed up a step.  "Hey, no offense.  I warsh just bein' friendly."

Now everyone was watching her.  She almost killed him right there, power or no power.  Her reason saved both her life and his, as she looked at the guard at the door and other patrons touching their weapons.  She forced a smile on her face.  "I'm... sorry.  You just... startled me."

The stupid grin returned to his face.  "No problemsh.  Let me getsh you a drinks."

"No thank you."  She made her way to a table and sat down without looking up.  The drunk shrugged and went back to his whiskey.

"You have no idea how fortunate you are, you idiot," she muttered.  A patron bumped her arm and she jumped.  "Sorry," he said as he pushed through the crowd.

Gods, she hated being touched.  Just as that thought crossed her mind, a halfling stumbling towards the back rooms stepped directly on her foot.  He passed her and belched without a word of apology.

She sighed.  It was going to be a long night.

[vlowe72]

Power does not corrupt; power attracts the corrupted.


10 years ago....

She sat cross legged with one palm flat upon the grass and the other facing in front.  She thrust forth her will, and a gout of flame erupted from her hand, consuming the small bush in front of her.  Startled, she willed again and a torrent of rain quickly put the fire out.

She stared at her hand in wonder.  Her power had been steadily increasing over the past year.  Nightshade had been right.  Despite what she had been taught since she was able to walk, her current allegiance to dark forces had not affected her ability to tap into Earthpower in the slightest.  She had been taught of Nature being an intelligent entity, a goddess that granted power in Her service.  But now she knew the truth.

The intelligent races were still a disease, a dry rot that needed to be purged.  She hated to see the harmony of her forest disturbed with their building and over hunting, but she no longer harbored any illusions that the Earth smiled upon her for her efforts.  Nature was just a dumb, brute force to be use for her own purposes.  There was no right and wrong, only... personal preference.  And of course, the acquisition of power.

She rubbed the tender spot on her neck.  Nightshade had fed upon her again last night, and had repeated his offer to make her  like he was.  She had refused, although the power was tempting.  She wanted to walk in the sunlight for a few more years, and she thought that she would best serve their interests if she could do so.  Perhaps, when the weight of old age began to press down on her, she would take that step. Not today.

She stood up and brushed leaves off of her black dress.  Time to go find the witchhunters that had been pursuing her for over a week now.  Undoubtedly the fools would be asleep in their campsite, safe in the knowledge that nothing bad could happen to them while the sun was in the sky.  "Death's Mistress cannot attack in sunlight;" one of the many rumors she had helped to spread among the commoners.

She cackled.  Time to correct that inaccurate perception.


Present Day...


She could barely walk, her hands and legs were shaking so badly.  She was weak and powerless; a state of affairs that often spelled death in this new land.  She told Agatha to watch for danger and the panther slunk away into the shadows.  She slumped to the ground and closed her eyes.

It had been a long time since she had been drained like this, and this one had done it with a mere touch. It was a most unusual type of night creature and she might have been foolish to follow it into the Von Zeklos keep.  But she had been intrigued, and the bonus of the two other fools that it had lured along with them made it too tempting to resist.

It had fed on them, all the time babbling nonsense about "Ezra" and the "Fifth."  More religious claptrap.  But the creature had power and had shared it with her, in exchange for her help.  Very well.  If she had to kiss the arse of some undead thing to gain access to the power she craved, so be it.

Sigh.  She had so wanted to play some more with the elf girl.  In her weakened state, she doubted she could have hurt her too badly, but the look of terror on her face as the events unfolded had been enjoyment enough.

The man though.  He was... an enigma.  He had seemed almost willing to accept what was happening.  In the end, the creature had let them both go, so she would have to be careful that they did not recognize her in the city.

She lay and slowly recovered her strength.  As she did so, an idea began to form.  She looked down at a corner of her black dress poking out of her pack.

Yes.  She would rebuild the coven.  Here in this land, in her own image.  All that Nightshade had taught her, would serve her well here.

[vlowe72]

Disaster.

She limped away, dropped to her knees, and pressed a hand to her side.  Her fingers came away bloody.  Quickly, she grabbed a bandage from her pack and pressed it against the wound.  Her breath came in short hitching gasps, sending tiny needles stabbing into her.  She became still and listened.  No signs of pursuit.  The man might have the skill to follow her, but not silently.

It didn't matter.  If he caught her now, she was finished.  She pulled the bandage away, hissing through her teeth and checked her side as best she could.  The blade had cut deep, scoring against a rib and had come within an inch of disemboweling her. 

She felt like a child, helpless.  A year ago, she would have not allowed the man to get within a yard of her.  But now, she had unleashed all of her spells in a fury and the man kept coming at her.  She had let her impatience dictate to her; making her act as she had before, before she was ready.  And she had paid a terrible price.

She had revealed herself before she was ready.  The man had seen her face.  She would be recognized.

"Death's mistress," she muttered.  "What a joke."

They did not fear her.  She had to make them afraid.  And to do that, she had to regain her power.

She glanced up in the direction of the Von Zeklos keep.  Or maybe, a different kind of power.

[vlowe72]

The crypts...

The warrior had her blade drawn and pointed at the shadows.  Her helm blocked any view of her face, but Victoria could hear her whispered prayers, and the tremble in her voice.  "Stay back, monster, or I'll run you through!"

Victoria let out a giggle.  It was too funny.  Take an ordinary panther, cover her in a barkskin spell and have her hide in the darkness, waiting for some adventurer to come down hunting skeletons.  A very handy recipe for terror.

The sound further unnerved the warrior.  She gripped the symbol around her neck and spoke.  "Helm, protect me from the darkness."  A soft glow enveloped her and Victoria felt the prickly sensation of a warding.  She wrinkled her nose.  Earth save her, it was one of Them.

She took several steps forward, her ink black dress and cloak making her almost invisible in the crypt darkness.  "Yes Helm.  Protect her from such as me."  She cocked her head as if listening, then shook her head.  "Looks like it's just the three of us down here."  She threw her head back and cackled.

"My god will grant me all that I need to defeat the likes of you!"  She raised her sword, but it was visibly trembling. 

"The likes of me?  Why whatever would that be?  You don't mean..." She drew her mouth in an o of mock horror.  "... a witch?"

"Yes."  The knight's voice was steadier.  "You and your kind are an abomination that must be purged."

Victoria's light mood vanished beneath a cloud of anger.  "My kind.  You don't even know me or what I have done, yet you would presume to judge me?  You and your kind.  You're all the same."  Her fingers itched to burn this sanctimonious bitch back to her god.  She ran her hand along Agatha's bark covered skin, to calm herself.  Not yet.  The lessons of the previous week had taught her that she could not yet assault openly.

The knight spoke again.  Incredibly, her voice was almost kindly.  "Turn from this path you have chosen.  While you live, there is a chance for redemption."

And now she was trying to save her, which only made Victoria more angry.  These people had tortured, killed, raped, and plundered; all the while patting themselves on the back for being so thrice damned holy.  She could not keep the sneer out of her voice as she retorted.  "Will your god grant me absolution, if I repent?"

That shut her up.  "Ah.... it is possible."

"Want to know what I think of that?" 

Silence.  She walked right up to her and stared directly into the visored eyes.  The knight raised her sword, but Victoria ignored the weapon as she pointed a finger.

"Your god, all others like him, and all who worship them, can go to the devil!"

She whirled, her black dress swirling around her.  "Come Agatha."  She stalked off into the darkness, heading for the lower crypts.

She was off to hunt some zombies.  Her hands tingled with the desire to destroy something.

[vlowe72]

Earthpower....

She closed her eyes and leaned against the stone pillar.  She let the warm glow of this place flow over her, as though the power were a warm bath.  She felt the touch that she had not felt since coming to this place, and smiled.  She would have to thank Tamara for telling her about this place.

She spread her fingers and gestured at the trees.  Vines immediately sprouted from the ground, twisting and writhing like a carpet of snakes.  Her smile grew wider.  She closed her eyes and sent forth a mental call.  A wolf howled in the distance in answer.  She could feel its cunning mind with hers, savage and beautiful, and subservient to her will.  A minute later, a huge black wolf trotted into the circle and lay at her feet.

Agatha growled and the wolf returned a snarl.  She laid a hand on the panthers head.  "Steady, love.  We're all friends here." 

She stretched out her and and watched the green glow flow around her hand.  Her fingers tingled and she threw back her head and laughed.  She was slowly becoming in tune with this new land.  Soon, very soon, she would be able to assume her rightful role.  She had encountered several others, those that might join her in the coven.  Understandably, they were reluctant to trust her, and wanted to keep their secrets hidden.  But if they joined together, then the people would cease throwing the term "witchhunter" around so loosely.

She pulled a list out of her pocket.  It was a list of several names.  Most of them were of witchhunters she had encountered.  They had openly boasted about their profession, right in front of her.  They even talked about their plans and what methods they used to hunt witches.  Idiots.

There was one name at the top, written boldly at the top and underlined.  The one she wanted to die first.  He was sneaky and good with a blade, but no one is invulnerable.  His confidence would be his undoing.

He was the one who had killed her mentor.  In cold blood, no less.  Perhaps Yvonne would return; undead had a way of doing that, but she had not heard from her in weeks.  She was probably destroyed.  The elf would die for that.  Slowly and painfully, if she had anything to say about it.

She drew in a deep breath.  Time for the big test to see how much of her power had actually returned.  She formed a picture in her mind and began to chant.  Her clothing vanished and dark fur sprouted all over her body.  She dropped to all fours and growled low in her throat.

Two panthers now stood in the clearing, staring at each other.  One sniffed the other, and purred in approval. 

The wolf raised its head and howled.

[vlowe72]

The Outskirts temple made her skin crawl, but it was a lot more spacious than the inn.  She retreated to her usual dark corner to rest and meditate, trying to shut out the incessant babble of those around her.

A wolf howled in the distance.  Her ears perked up.  It was not an unusual sound in Barovia, but this seemed... different.  It was not an animal baying at the moon, it seemed to... call to her.  More wolves howled.  A chorus of hundreds of children of the night.  Several people ran in and barred the door.  "There's a pack of white wolves out there!"  one shouted.  "Led by one of the biggest man - wolf I've ever seen!"  Those within the temple babbled to one another and huddled together in fear.

She watched this and smiled to herself.  Perhaps this would be the way to have people fear her again.  If she could somehow connect with this 'man - wolf,' she could roam the lands and claim the wilds back from civilization.  My name will be whispered in fear again, she vowed to herself. 

She stood up and announced "I'm going for a stroll."  The people looked at her as though she had gone utterly mad.  "Haven't you been listening?" a woman jabbered.  "There's wild beasts out there!"

"We shall see.  Have a good evening." she cackled.

Outside the door, she looked around.  The Outskirts were deserted, as she thought they would be.  She closed her eyes and began to change.  She could assume panther form, without too much thought, but this was something she had not done before.  It took her several tries, but eventually a great black wolf stood in the graveyard behind the temple.

She bounded to the top of the hill and howled.  Immediately, a chorus of howls answered her back, filling her with elation.  She sat on her haunches to wait.

A howl from the west, much closer, accompanied several yips and barks.  A giant snow wolf beast, walking on two legs emerged from the darkness, followed by several large white wolves.  A small cloud of frost seemed to hang over them, and she felt the biting cold pierce her thick fur.  These were not ordinary wolves, they were... different.

The beast met her eyes and they narrowed at her.  She made no effort to conceal herself, merely stood her ground.  The pack growled and they padded towards he, circling the hill warily.  The snow wolf led them and soon stood before her, like a giant in front of a gnome.

Panic filled her as she realized that things were not quite working out the way she planned.  Nothing to do for it now, but keep going.  In the way of wolves, she dropped to her stomach and bared her throat in a gesture of submission.

The snow beast snarled at her and backhanded her off the hill.  She smashed into the ground and she heard a wet snap as something in her back leg gave way.  She whimpered in pain.

The other wolves ran to her and surrounded her.  She could almost see the contempt in their eyes.  As one, they took a deep breath and breathed several cones of frost at her.  As the arctic air covered her in ice and froze her to the core, she could feel herself slipping into darkness.  She had one last thought for herself...

"Idiot."

[vlowe72]

She suddenly drew in a gasp of air and she sat up, wild eyed in panic.  Her mind was filled with images of white wolves, freezing cold.  She shivered uncontrollably and looked around.

She was in the cemetery behind the temple.  Apparently someone had found her body and brought her here to be revived, or to be buried if she could not be returned.  Yet... she was alone.  She was in a back section and no one was there to see her return to life.

A wave of unfamiliar emotions passed through her.  Sadness and regret.  So this is how I die, she thought.  Alone, unremembered, cast off into a forgotten corner.  She angrily fought back the tears that threatened to crack through her heart of stone.  They all die, whether they live well or not.  All of them.  Read some of the inscriptions on some of these stones and they spin wonderful eulogies about the moldering corpses below.  Yet what did it get them?  A six foot plot of dirt and their bodies eaten by worms.  In the end, that's all we are.  Food for worms.  Good deeds are a waste of effort and time.

Her heart successfully hardened again, she staggered to her feet and limped into the outskirts.  Luckily it was daylight.  She would return to her circle of stones and try to rest and think of what to do next. 

Tamara met her on the road and she brightened up.  She was the closest thing she had to a friend in this miserable place.  They walked along together, discussing magical theories and how to keep them hidden.  Then Victoria brought up the one thing that they had never discussed before.

"Do you worship any gods, Tamara?"

"None.  Only perhaps magical forces, but that wouldn't really be called worship in the truest sense."

Victoria nodded.  "I've always thought that religion was more trouble than its worth."

They looked at each other and smiled.  They thought so much alike.  They both hated the elf and wanted to see him die, they both wanted to grow in power as much as possible.  Their magic came from vastly different sources, but in the end it was all about the manipulation of power.  And people.

Yes.  Tamara would be the first to share in her vision.  She would be the second.  Now they had to find a third and the circle would be complete.

"What do you think of that other we met?  The white haired one?"

Tamara wrinkled her nose.  "I don't trust her.  She's got a lot of baggage.  She lets her emotions take control too easily."

"Still... she has great power.  And she can learn to control her feelings.  After all..." Victoria smiled evilly.  "The best cure for a broken heart is vengeance."

"I wouldn't know anything about that, but I'd expect you're right."

Several farmer paused in their work and made the sign against the evil eye, at the high pitch cackling that wafted from trees.

[vlowe72]

12 years ago...

Victoria twisted her body, in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure that her weight put on the chains around her wrists.  She hissed through her breath, but she be damned if she'd let these bastards see her agony.  They would probably break her, they always did, but she wouldn't let them get any fun out of it.

"How do you fare, Victoria?" Brenda gasped, her hands bound in a similar manner.

"I face a horrible death, and have been hanging from my hands for hours.  I fare quite badly, if you would know the truth, Sister," she said icily.

Brenda's face softened.  "Bitterness does not suit you, Victoria." she said softly.  "The Earthmother is with us, even in death.  Take pride that we do Her will, even when faced with this."

"If the Earthmother wills this," Victoria said angrily "give me the Devil!"

The tears that formed in her sister's eyes, stung her.  She had not meant to hurt her little sister, in fact conscience dictated that she should try to do whatever she could to ease her suffering.  All kindness and sympathy, however, had drained from her long ago, leaving only exhaustion... and rage.

The door clanged open and two interrogators stood in the passageway, grinning.  She had not seen these two before; the idiots must draw lots beforehand to see who gets first pick.  She rolled her eyes.  Male of course.  She had never met a female witchhunter, which would explain why the great majority that they accused were female.  Her brother had probably met a relatively quick death, unless there happened to be withchunters with... exotic appetites.

"Your pick," the large one on the left said.  "Blonde or brunette?"

His rheumy eyes swept across Victoria's body, and she could not help a shudder of revulsion.  He then turned to Brenda, who was looking at him with a calm gaze.

"The blonde.  The other one's too old for my tastes.  No offense."  He went up to Brenda and began unlocking her chains.  He hoisted her up over his shoulder and the last time Victoria ever saw her sister's face, her gaze filled with regret and pity.  The other turned to Victoria, a leer on his lips. 

"Just you and me now.  Tell you what.  Give me a confession now, and we'll make it quick.  They all break eventually, so why not make it easy on yourself?"

She slumped down and nodded.  He heard the clink of metal as her chains were unlocked and relief flooded through her as the weight came off of her shoulders.  She smiled at him.  "Thank you."

"I can think of better ways that you can thank me."  He put his arms around her and began groping her clumsily.  Bile filled her throat, but she swallowed and forced herself to respond as if she were enjoying his attentions.

"You're a smart girl," he mumbled against her neck.  "Might as well enjoy it, as it 's the last you'll ever get."

"Tell me something," she whispered in his ear.  "Do you even believe in witches?"

He laughed at that.  "The Hunters pay me well for each confession I extract.  I don't give a fiddlers fart what they want me to get you to say.  As for witches, well I've had a lot confess to being one, but never have I met anyone that could really hurt me with magic."

She caressed the front of his chest and placed the palm of her hand directly over his heart, smiling softly.  "Oh yes you have."

She wished she could have preserved the look on his face as the lightning bolt slammed through his heart, killing him before his body hit the floor.  The force was enough to throw her across the room and against the far wall.  She lay stunned, fighting unconsciousness.

Get up, fool, before you waste your chance at escape.  She staggered to her feet, and made her way to the door, pausing at the smoldering corpse of her captor.   She sniffed and kicked once at the still corpse.  "Believe now, idiot?"

It would not be long before someone spotted her.  She needed a distraction, so she closed her eyes.  Once last trick... her most powerful.  Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning flashed.  She slipped into the darkness unnoticed and made her way out of the keep.  Several guards died screaming, as lightning scorched their flesh, and no one noticed the woman dressed in black making her escape.

"Storm of Vengeance," she laughed as the keep burned.  "How appropriate."

She adjusted her torn dress, still feeling the greasy touch of the man on her skin.  She felt a need for a bath, to get the stink of his hands off of her, so she set out to find a stream. 

[vlowe72]

If you do the Devil's work, be prepared to receive his wages.



She was growing in power, slowly recovering.  Still only a fraction of what she had been, but that would all change.  She could roam the forests now, with little to fear from the night creatures.  She -was- a night creature, she could travel among them.  She was becoming Death's Mistress again, and they would whisper her name in fear.

And she had done it all, without any help from her sisters, or Nightshade.  Alone, she had done it, and alone she would reap the rewards.

Twilight, she sat on a hill, overlooking the woods.  Her woods!  To hell with the Count and his Laws!  She would claim the forests as hers, marking it as her territory.  Let those idiots try to come through them, seeking treasure and glory.  She'd give them glory, as she let them watch their own blood emptying on the ground.

Maybe she'd let a few of them live, let them run back to tell the others.  Then of course would come the witchhunters, the puffed up self important ones.  So convinced of their expertise, their immortality.  the power of their impotent gods.  She almost giggled like a schoolgirl, as she thought of the look on their faces as all their tricks failed them.

I hope they have the holy water.  I so love it when they splash it on me, expecting me to melt away like I was some kind of sugar confection.  Idiots.

She called mentally, and the pack answered.  Their leader, the one she named Blackfang stepped forward, resting its head on its paws, looking up at her.  She scratched behind it's ears and addressed it.

"For too long, they've come through here, and slaughtered your kin.  Taking the skins of your mates and children.  It ends tonight!"

She pointed at the edge of the woods.  "Travel the land and find them.  Anyone who crosses into it, take them.  Kill the first two, maim the the third and let him flee to spread the terror.

Agatha growled at her side, and she patted the panther's head.  "Don't worry, love.  We've got a special job to do, in that stinking mass of humanity."

Fear, blood, death.  She was on familiar ground now.  Soon, she wouldn't have to hide amongst them, pretending to be their friend.  Some would join her, others would join later... in death.

Life was good again.

[vlowe72]

25 years ago...



"Hey, look there.  It's that forest girl.  Going to go rut with some animals?"

Ten year old Victoria huddled within her cloak and tried to become invisible, but they had spotted her.  A rock struck the ground in front of her and another hit her elbow.  She hissed and looked up at the group of boys, her eyes blazing.

"Ooh, you got her mad, Tom.  Maybe she's gonna scratch your eyes out!"  They all guffawed and pointed at her.  She tried to run into the safety of the woods, but they circled around, laughing all the harder.

The biggest one stood in front of her, hands folded.  "Isn't she the ugliest wood nymph you've ever seen?"  His foot kicked out and knocked her legs out from under her.  They all saw their chance and stood around her, kicking at her and spitting.

"Stay away from our farms, witch!" one yelled at her.  "My Dad's cattle got the fever because of you."

Because of her?  She couldn't cause sickness in animals, even if she had wanted to.  "I d.. didn't.." she sputtered, but they weren't interested in what she had to say.  They wanted someone to blame for their troubles.  Far easier to say that disease and injury was caused by someone out to get them, rather than simple blind bad luck.

Finally, they left her alone, bruised, dirty and crying.  She sniffed once and slowly pushed herself off the ground.

"If I was a witch, I'd do something really bad to you."  she muttered.  She could heal a bit, and speak with the animals, but she had no real power.  Mother said that her role was to heal the pain in Nature, which included people.  What about her own pain?

The next day, she was alone in the cottage, feigning sickness.  She made her way into Mother's small stack of books, the ones she was forbidden to look at until she was ready.  She found the book and turned to the opening page, staring at the simple red lettering.

Witchcraft ... the Secret Lore.

The first section contained the knowledge she sought.  Poisons and Poisoners.

Her eyes glittered as she read, a small cold smile forming on her ten year old lips.


He was not hard to follow.  The boy fancied himself a woodsman, but Victoria could have followed him with her eyes closed; he made so much noise.  He was advancing on a large animal caught in one of his traps.  The panther was smart; it made no cries of pain that would attract other predators, but she could sense that one of it's back legs was caught and it would soon bleed to death.

The boy was advancing, spear raised.  "Ye won't be taken Poppa's cows no more, damned cat."

His hand went to his neck and he pulled the dart away, blinking at it stupidly.  Then his eyes rolled and he pitched forward.

She giggled and clapped her hands.  It had worked!  Just like the book told her.  A  simple paste made from common herbs and he had been felled like an ox.  She stood from her hiding place and walked over to him, bending down to look right into his staring eyes.

"Now... whatever shall I do with you now?  Her eyes met the panther's and she knew.  Her small hands worked gripped the trap and she grunted with the strain, but she managed to pry the jaws apart enough for the paw to slip free.

The boy saw and heard everything but he could do nothing, not even cry out.  A single trickle of sweat rolled down his face as Victoria stared into his eyes, that single cold smile bearing on him like Death itself.

The panther padded over to him, sniffed once at his face.  The boy managed a small mewling sound in his throat.

"Maybe I will..." her voice dropped to a whisper as she hooked her hands into claws..." scratch your eyes out?"

They found only scraps of cloth, and concluded that the boy had been taken by a wild animal.  His companions, however suspected the truth.  And she did nothing to discourage their suspicions.  On the rare occasions when they crossed paths, she had only to smile that cold smile, and they left her alone.

[vlowe72]

Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.
-Macbeth



She rarely consulted books.  What she learned, she learned from observation and from the teachings of those she respected.  But the things she wanted to know, were not taught by anyone, or at least anyone she could talk with.  As for observation... she had tried that and almost ended up dead.  That left her to prowl the stuffy bookstores and meager libraries of the city.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly, then forced herself to look at the words again.  She pictured the ritual again in her mind, going over the steps.  Then she slammed it shut in disgust.  Idiot.  The writer had no idea what he was talking about, probably just parroting things that he had heard.

"The blood would taint the marrowroot!" she hissed.  The ritual would fail miserably.  There was no way that he had ever gotten the thing to work. 

A man looked up at her, curiously and she bent her head, keeping her face hidden.  She had no wish to draw attention to herself, especially now, when she was so close.

Her hand ached.  She rarely read, and wrote even less frequently, but she had to keep a record of her findings.  She glanced over the partial list she had made, several things that showed promise, and sighed deeply.

What was the key?  Was what she wanted even possible, or would it backfire horribly?  Once she started on this path, there would be no turning back.

But she could not continue as she was.  She had made many enemies, and several desired her death.  She had to gain an advantage, and there were only two ways she could do it.  One... embrace the night as she had seen others do, or... the second path.

She thought of her mother, as she had not done in many years.  What would she say if she could see what her daughter was up to?

"She'd scream in horror," she muttered bitterly.  "Unnatural magicks, she call it and she'd try to stop me.  Cut me, beat me, anything to stop this.  She hated these dark rituals and anyone who trafficked in them."

"And that's why you're dead and I'm alive, Mother.  I was willing to do what needed to be done to protect myself.  And I still am."

She took another book from the stack and began skimming through the contents.  She added another notation in her thin, spidery script.

Rainwater... collected in the footprint of her quarry.  She underlined that heavily.  Yes, that would work beautifully...

[vlowe72]

The rage was like a serpent in her belly, snarling and coiling and whispering.  In her darkest dreams, she fantasized about tearing through the people in one of her many forms.  The wolf, perhaps.  Tearing through them, ripping them open, bathing in their blood.

She usually had enough wisdom to not give in to her desires, for there were too many "warriors of good" around.  They would turn on her, hunt her and destroy her.  But sometimes, her anger was too strong. 

She tried to placate her anger by hunting.  Sinking her teeth into warm flesh, imagining that it was the flesh of her enemies.  It soothed her for a time, but it wasn't enough.  Rats, even the big ones, were too small, they died too easily.

She drop the twitching rat from her jaws and growled.  Damn this land and damn its people!  Her rituals had failed her, and her power was growing far too slowly.  Monsters had fed on her, far too many times.  In the day, she had to play the part of an innocent herbalist, and at night a simpering fawning servant to those more powerful.  She hated herself almost as much as the land.

A sudden flare of light stung her eyes and a flaming arrow struck a broken piece of discarded furniture.  It continued to burn, and she looked at it stupidly, until she saw the glow on the end of its shaft.  The tingle of fire magic pricked her skin as the glow intensified...

Oh gods.  Her eyes widened and she turned and fled down the tunnel.  She almost made it.

The explosion threw her forward and set her fur aflame.  Instantly, she shifted back into her human form, just in time for her to fall face down into the sewer muck.  Sputtering, she jumped to her feet and gathered her power around her.

"I've been following you, and I've seen what you do.  You think you're hidden, but there are those who see.  I'm going to kill you, witch."

"You..." her voice cracked and increased in volume to an almost scream.  "You DARE assault ME?  I'll feast on your roasted carcass!"  She muttered a spell and pointed back down the tunnel.  "Let me show you the proper way to play with FIRE!"

A jet of flame sprang from the air and roared after the voice.  A hundred rats died instantly, then there was only the hiss of sewer water boiling into steam.

"You'll have to be quicker than that."  Another arrow.  She pulled her cloak around her head and spoke a spell of protection.   She managed to stay on her feet for the explosion, though her clothing was singed and she could smell the stench of burning hair.

Lightning then.  She unleashed a torrent of electricity after the assassin.  She had seen her lightning storms destroy whole packs of werewolves, but down in the sewer, her power was less effective. 

Mundane arrows buzzed through the air.  One struck her arm and she bit down on her tongue to keep herself from screaming.  She wouldn't give her assassin the satisfaction.  She gathered the darkness around her and faded away.

She limped to the exit and half crawled, half stumbled into the trees.  The shadows usually hid her well, but now...