Chapter 15- Lamb to slaughter

  James was like that lamb, led to be slaughtered, naive and unaware where I was leading him, giggling like I used to at Mom bringing home a treat for us.

  I kept thinking about trying to escape, but the reality of that would be slim to none.

  No. The plan forming in my mind was much more sinister.

  I’d never thought of myself as capable of this level of calculation, this willingness to use another human being as bait. Still, years of survival had taught me that morality was a luxury, one that had to be weighed against the need to protect yourself. James had made his intentions clear. He was going to hurt me, violate me. I was simply redirecting that violence back to its source.

  Darkness drifted in, its tendrils snaking around my ankles. The breeze picked up a notch, and leaves flew everywhere.

  James asked. “We there yet?” and at that moment, he sounded almost like my brother, begging me to stop, begging for the goodies, promising—the tactics I’d used on more than one occasion to get us to the next rest point, the next stop.

  “Just a bit further,” I purred at him, “then I’m all yours.”

  I knew what was out here.

  Leigh’s warnings echoed in my mind as we ventured deeper. He’s the kind of man you don’t want to be alone with. My plan now, was a devil’s plan, born out of nothing but contempt and damnation for him.

  He would rape me no matter what or where. At least here, I hoped to the gods something else would come for him first.

  We stepped into the clearing, though it was as dark as it could get, and settled birds scattered everywhere, wings flapping fluttering up into the skies with but screeching wails as their melody. James ducked, and I almost laughed.

  I turned around, running my hand from my breasts to my navel. “We’re here.”

  James stared up at me, grinned, and then was in front of me, his hands all over me, his lips on mine. “You like it rough, don’t you.” He tore at my clothes, my flesh. Instead of fire where he touched, I felt nothing but forbidden dark, searing cold.

  My mind fractured into two parts, one that registered every violation with crystalline clarity, cataloging each bruise, each unwanted touch; and another that floated somewhere above, detached and coldly observant, waiting for the moment when my plan would unfold. I’d dissociated from my body before, during times of extreme hunger or cold. This was similar, yet somehow worse.

  He unbuttoned his dirty trousers, kicked off his boots, and then turned to mine, fumbling at my zip. “Take em off,” he ordered.

  Come on, I begged the skies as it grew darker and darker around us.

  I obliged, kicking off my boots and then my trousers, but I shivered with the cold. It was beyond cold in this darkness, even he shivered or was that—heaven forbid—excitement?

  When he came to me this time, he forced me to the ground. His hot, stinking breath left a trail of disgust all over me as he nipped, licked, and bit wherever he wanted. He had yet to touch me down below. Please don’t…. I begged.

  Yet even with his heavy breathing in the darkness of that forest, I heard something else breathing heavier, something that clearly wasn’t—James.

  Heavy thuds. Twigs breaking.

  Something else was here, something big, and I prayed to the heavens I was right.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  James thought that was his go-ahead though—fuck! “I wanted to make sure the pretty virgin was ready.”

  “I’m not a virgin,” I said, but he just laughed.

  He spread my legs. “Tell no lies, missy,” he teased. Poising himself above me, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down on me, a self-satisfied glint in his eyes. “You’re never going to want anyone else when you’ve had me.”

  I froze as his hands slid lower, his boasts fell on deaf ears. My eyes had locked with the creature in the forest—red, blood-red.

  Those eyes pierced mine, nothing but murderous intent in them.

  In that moment of connection with the creature, I felt something shift inside me. A doorway opening where none had existed before. The darkness around us wasn’t just absence of light - it was something palpable, something I could almost reach out and touch. Something that responded to my desperation, my silent plea for intervention.

  James' fingers brushed against my panties, ripping a sob from my throat—one he misinterpreted as pleasure.

  “This is gonna be heaven,” he said, biting down on my neck.

  Oh gods, I did not want this. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have.

  Thank you, the creature's voice whispered. It's dark tendrils formed not into fur as I thought but deep dark feathers.

  I screamed. I screamed for all I was worth. “Get him off me!”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  A dark, sharp beak snapped at his neck.

  Red gushed from James’s neck as it was torn apart. I scrambled out from under him, backward, leaving him with his pants around his ankles, his dick hanging out for all to see. He spun around franticly trying to fight the creature. All I could see was a mass of darkness, flashing claws, and feathers.

  With trembling hands, I pulled my underwear up over my legs and stumbled forward, tears streaming down my face. All around me, that darkness and a red so deep it seeped into every corner of my view.

  The screams—my screams mingled with his. James cried in agony as he fought, desperately trying to hit it in the face.

  Relief and horror mingled in my chest. Relief that I had been spared the violation that seemed inevitable just moments before. Horror at the savagery unfolding before me, at the blood and the screams. And beneath it all, a disturbing sense of satisfaction, that my plan had worked, that justice of a sort was being served. The complexity of my emotions was dizzying.

  The sound of teeth gnashing against bone and the guttural gurgles of someone drowning echoed in my ears.

  Gritting my teeth, I forced my eyes open and reached for my trousers, but the image before me kept me frozen in place. The look of terror on James’ face as he begged me to help, his last breath left him, leaving behind a gruesome mess of blood and viscera. He deserved this; after all, he would have raped me regardless of what I said or did.

  My heart raced as I yanked my trousers up over my bloodied legs and met the gaze of the massive bird standing before me. It released its grip on James’ lifeless body, and I could have sworn it was laughing at me.

  There was more red—but this time it flashed across my vision.

  Death Elemental

  Kill Count - 1

  Death took his first kill in your name. As darkness seeps into your soul, you will struggle for sanity. Cling to everything you can, Cerys. This road is long.

  The system message was unlike any I’d seen before. Not a skill assignment or status update, but a warning. A premonition. Death took his first kill in my name - not just through my actions, but somehow bound to me. The implications were staggering, terrifying. I had accessed the system at last, but what I’d found there wasn’t the power I’d hoped for - it was something darker, more ominous.

  James lay dying, and for a moment, I stared into the creatures’ eyes as it swallowed—oh gods—a part of him…

  It never took its eyes of me, unsure of what I saw reflected at me I noticed—my boots. I grabbed them, and I ran.

  Tears continued to blur my vision as I sprinted, fueled by fear and desperation, eventually stopping to put my boots on. My mind raced with thoughts of the library—the one place where I might find answers and my Mom’s journal. With a newfound determination, I pushed forward toward the city, never once looking back.

  I didn’t know where else I could go to get clean. My trousers were filthy, and my period pants felt heavy, though Leigh had said they’d be good for hours. Had it really been that long by the time I reached the library?

  I looked around. It was getting dark again, so I guessed it had. I pushed past the door barricade, and though I could barely see where I was going in the waning light, I found my things.

  I slung my bag over my shoulders, gave the place one last look, noticed Reece’s bag, and, grabbing that too, left.

  There was nothing else here for us, nothing that would help me now.

  Only one thing would help me—getting back, getting washed off, and going to a late meal, then work tomorrow.

  The instinct to maintain normalcy, to blend in, was overwhelming. Return to routine. Act as if nothing had happened. These were survival strategies I’d learned over years of adapting to new environments. But could I really sit across from Leigh at dinner, shovel coal into the furnace, interact with others, as if I hadn’t just led a man to his death? As if I hadn’t just discovered some dark, terrifying connection to... what? Death itself?

  I had to be precise and use my brain; I didn’t just walk through the same exit we’d used earlier.

  Careful not to make noise, I crept in and climbed over one of the other walls. There were patrols, but even in the short time I’d been here, I’d logged the gaps in their security. This place wasn’t as safe as they thought it was, not at all.

  But they’d survived out here so long, so something must have worked.

  My guess was the furnace, the electricity, and the fact they probably shoved anyone out the gates who couldn’t contribute “something.”

  I avoided seeing anyone, snuck both bags into my room, hid them out of sight for now, and then made my way to the bathroom. This time, I had clean clothes of my own.

  The shower room was cold, and though the water ran, it wasn’t refreshing. I just wanted to try to get clean.

  No sooner did I touch myself with the soap than it stung. James had hurt me, despite my hope, but I would never, ever class him as my first. I couldn’t.

  I also couldn’t tell if the blood was from him or my damned period.

  The water couldn’t wash away what had happened, couldn’t cleanse the memory of his hands on my body, his weight pinning me down. I scrubbed until my skin was raw, but the feeling of violation lingered. He hadn’t completed the act, hadn’t taken what he’d intended to take, but the assault was real regardless. The trauma was real. And somewhere beneath the pain and disgust was a cold, hard question: would I have made the same choice, knowing the outcome?

  The timer ticked off, and I crumpled to the floor. I sat in the freezing cold, still red seeping from below, and cried, and cried.

  “What happened?” asked the voice from last week, startling me.

  My Mom’s words came to me, and I voiced them. “Women’s problems.”

  “Oh,” the voice shied away a bit. “I’ve left you a pass on your clean clothes, and… well, I have something for the pain, if you’ll let me.”

  “Let you what?”

  “I’m gifted,” they said.

  Were they in the shower next to me?

  “If you can get rid of cramps,” I almost begged, “please.”

  “I’ll stand behind the curtain,” they said. “Don’t panic. I promise I won’t come in and I won’t hurt you.”

  Inside, I almost died at those words. I shivered. Sick to my soul.

  I saw it before I felt it.

  Blue tendrils of light spread out from the figure standing behind me.

  The only thing between us was a thin plastic curtain.

  Those blue tendrils snaked towards me and then, gently touched me, moving from my ankles to my stomach.

  My stomachache left me, and so did the pain below.

  “Thank you,” I almost sobbed.

  “I’m only learning, but… you’re—” they seemed to stutter. “You’re welcome.”

  Then they were gone.

  Darkness enveloped the shower room, the silvery light of the moon just barely illuminating the space.

  Was that the flutter of wings?

  I looked up to see the shadow of something flit across the windows.

  “Someone else there?” I asked, my voice low.

  More fluttering.

  I will always be here for you now, Cerys, a voice whispered. I am yours.

  It was the same voice from the forest.

  A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold water. The creature hadn’t just saved me - it had claimed me in some way. Or I had claimed it. The system message made more sense now. Death took his first kill in my name. This wasn’t just about James or what had nearly happened. This was about a bond that had formed, a connection to something ancient and dangerous. My “hidden skill” was revealing itself, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know more.

  I brushed it off, not understanding any of it, and pushed myself up. The water was icy cold now, so I rinsed quickly, dried myself enough to slip on new underwear and my clothes, and tucked the pass from the strange healer into my trousers pocket.

  I needed to eat. I was beyond hungry, but the kitchens would close soon, so I ran.