31 Horrific Days [Day 29]
Prompt: Bleeding
Her breath released in clouds against the chilling air, the earth frozen beneath her as she padded over rotting leaves, fallen branches, and freshly fallen snow. The elements had not affected the palace, protected by wards and kept warm by charms and Cecil’s touch. Viscardi had been cold, but always grew feverish when he dined on her flesh.
Now the trees loomed overhead, much like they had after she’d run from Cecil many moons ago, with Viscardi hot on her heels. She dared a glance over her shoulder and wondered if he would come for her again. The forest was bewitched, designed to throw travelers off their trails and hot-headed sorcerers into insanity. Feeling as if she’d roamed and only gone in circles for hours with only the waning moon as her company, she came to a stop and leaned against the nearest tree.
Cecil hadn’t given her proper warning, hadn’t given her a kit to set up camp, hadn’t taught her how to survive the wilderness.
All that work done only for her to die out here alone.
She brought her numbing fingertips up to her face, staring at the ragged nails, the nails that had desperately clawed against the wall as she begged for Cecil to let her back in. Tears were still frozen on her face.
Yet by glaring at her the chipped nails, realization dawned on her.
A string of spells left her chattering teeth.
Fire blazed before her.
A squeal of excitement echoed through the night, and she made her own campfire, set a blanket of charms over her shoulders to keep cozy, and as she settled within the roots of the tree, she allowed herself a moment of peace.
The sharp scent of blood pulled her into consciousness.
Her eyes fluttered open, peering into darkness, over the dying embers of her fire and into the shadows beyond. It took a languid form, sprawled against the fallen tree opposite her, the only light dispersed within its black eyes.
She felt numb, as if her charms had worn off and ice had settled along her bones.
“I thought we had a deal, love.”
Voice heavy with spite, Viscardi shifted, moving like silk as sparks flew from the makeshift pit, fire growing from the embers within. It cast ominous shadows over his face, so devoid of emotion, save for the pain deep within those captivating eyes.
Iron overwhelmed her senses, but his face was immaculate, fixed on her, focused solely on her paralyzed body as his steely gaze roamed downwards. Her attention followed suit, and panic swelled within her when she saw the crimson that bloomed from her chest, a wooden hilt jutting out just far enough to see the glint of the blade.
Blood spurted from her lips as he lifted the spell of paralysis, thrusting her into sunbursts of agony.
