Chapter Three: From Hunted to Hunter

33 3 0
                                    

The short swords in her hands flashed in the moonlight as she ran. Breathing in the crisp night air, she relished her opportunity to be the hunter instead of the hunted. 

She chased her quarry through the night, laughing mercilessly when she heard her stumble. A combination of dead and living grass both tickled and pricked her bare feet. Her tight, black cotton pants and muscle T let her move freely, making it that much more enjoyable to chase the heartless wretch across the plane. 

Her breathing came easily, and her motions were fluid. Running had never been so easy.  

Without ever deciding to do so, she let out a cry of delight that also served to frighten her prey even further. She was startled by the sound she had made. It hadn't been human; it had sounded more like the cry of a bird; the cry of a raven. 

Deciding to think on this abnormality later, she pressed on, taking joy from the exertion of running and the terror she could feel rolling off her target. 

This was bliss, pure bliss. She was in control; she dictated how this would end. 

Intoxicated by her power, she started singing a song from some version of Cinderella she had read in an old book at her grandmother's house:

Cuckoo, cuckoo, 

There's blood in the shoe! 

The foot's to big, the foot's to wide! 

This is not the proper bride!

She didn't know what the song had to do with her situation, but it seemed fitting. Wishing to continue singing, she began chanting the words from a song in J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit:

Burn burn 

Tree and fern 

Shrivel and scorch 

A fizzling torch 

To light the night for our delight 

Ya hay!

Bake and toast them 

Fry and roast them 

Til beards blaze and eyes glaze 

Hair smells and skins crack 

Fat melts and bones black 

As cinders lie 

Beneath the sky 

So dwarves shall die! 

And light the night  

For our delight 

Ya hay! 

Ya harri hay! 

Ya hoy!

As she sang, her clothes caught fire, but this didn't concern her in the slightest. The fire spread up her body, not burning her or her clothes. It licked up her skin, and she laughed, pleased by the affections of her old friend and ally.  

Fire lit up her path and set the grass ablaze, but she didn't let it go far. She kept it close about her feet.  

Soon the little wench was in sight, running for her life from the red eyed fiery terror behind her. Eris laughed again, amused by her soon-to-be victims desperation. Oh, it was delicious. 

Catching up to the bitch, Eris grabbed her dull hair with a fiery hand and yanked her to the ground. Longing to feed on her hair and scalp, the flames flickered in the girl's direction, but Eris held them back. This was her prey, and she would destroy it how she saw fit. 

The girl screamed, but to no avail. They were the only two out here, and her screams only fed Eris' cruelty. 

"What do you want?!" the girl shrieked, her mousy face pale with fright. "What do you want with me?!" 

"I wish to destroy you, like you destroyed me," Eris answered, not even sure what she meant. All she knew was the hatred she felt for the creature in front of her. She associated her with heartbreak. She had no idea why this was, but all the same, it made her want to destroy her. 

"Eris, no!" someone bellowed behind her. Of course it was him. Of all the people who could have come to stop her, it had to be him. "Eris, stop! You don't want to do this!" 

"How would you know what I want, Gabriel?" she asked coldly. Keeping her eyes on the girl was hard. She could feel him trying to draw her gaze, but she refused to look at him. She wouldn't let him trap her in his beautiful blue eyes. "I want nothing more than to destroy this little mouse." She laughed cruelly, yanking the bitch's hair, taking pleasure in her scream. "'Nibble nibble, little mouse. Who's been nibbling at my house?'" she recited the rhyme from Hansel and Gretel. 

"Eris, I know you're angry, but you can't kill her. Do you know what they'll do to you?" he pleaded, the desperation in his voice breaking her heart. 

"I don't care! It's her fault, and SHE. MUST. PAY!" she shrieked, plunging her sword into the girls skull.

UnnamedWhere stories live. Discover now