Daciana's Moon

Who's Afriad of the Big Bad Kitty? (Prologue)

           Saraphine's eyes shined like fire in the moonlight. Blood coated her lithe body as she walked through the rooms of her clan's home.

         "Dead; all of them dead, even the children!" Her voice crackled with lunacy as she began to run through the halls. As she reached the front door, she heard a small sound. It was far away, but she could just make it out. The sound of a faint heartbeat, her body began to arch backback as her bones began to rearrange frantically.The shift caused her no pain, as she dropped to all fours and padded past piles of half eaten remains of her former clan members. The clan of a hundred shifters had once been strong, led by Saraphine and her right hand Nickolai. Her bloodline had ruled the land under her feet for generations as the only therianthropic clan. Although small in numbers they were fierce and had never been defeated until now.

        She followed the sound as the moonlight from the castle windows played of her black and silver stripped coat. Of all the creatures she possessed this tiger was her favorite. Near the double arched doors to her room she stopped, the heartbeat was dancing at a frantic pace just inside the room. With so much blood in the air, she couldn't make out who it was. Regardless, she crouched down as her claws extended and shifted into a half-human form; prepared to enter her private chamber. She was quite powerful in this form and had few of the limitations her beast forms possessed.

        The doors' latches slid down slowly under the pressure of Saraphine's claws as she threw them open. The air whistled as it was cut by the blade of an axe soaring towards her. Followed by a smooth but grotesque slice, as the war axe caught her neck; cleaving clean through the bones of her spine like nothing, but not before a final breath escaped her mouth as she gazed upon her killer.

         "Nickolai!" she whispered as she fell forward, her head detaching as she fell to the ground. Rolling towards him, he kicked it away. He pulled the axe free from the corridor wall behind her. Kneeling above her body, he raised the axe high over his shoulder and swung down letting the axes' momentum build before he sliced off one of her arms. The axe slammed into the stone floor with each blow spraying a mist of blood as he jerked the axe free. Laying it against his shoulder, he repositioned her remains. He grabbed the severed limbs, tossing them away from her corpse into the dormant hearth.

           Bones crunched with each hack as the stone cracked under the mighty strikes of the war axe. He dragged the two legs towards the hearth, grabbing kindling. He built a fire around the severed arms steadily building the flames before adding another limb. He didn't stop once the fire filled the hearth, instead he grabbed chairs breaking them and coating them in lamp oil. Lighting the chair legs he coated the room and the remaining body parts with oil before catching them ablaze with the makeshift torch. He ran as the structure caught flame; determined too never look back.

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