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She weaves through people, smiling and waving like she isn’t evil incarnate. Her mask of innocence and indifference is a work of art, perfected over who knows how many years. Little does she know I will be removing it for her tonight.
Iallow a single tear to roll down my cheek and get absorbed by the scarf covering my mouth as I hide in the shadows. I can’t help but feel shame as they carry the unconscious young man into the female’s house. He is probably in that state because he fought, and this was the only way they could move him without making a scene.
Logically, I know I am only allowing this to happen so I can free him without having to fight over twenty Keryth and risk losing. But my heart still breaks that he is going into that house of horrors when I could stop it now.
Anger quickly burns away my shame at the thought that there are so many willing to share their blood with the Keryth. Instead of feeding from those, these monsters force it from their victims so they can taste the fear and adrenaline without having to hunt for it. They are sick and twisted and deserve the worst kind of death imaginable.
It takes longer than expected for the other Keryth to disappear. Not before I memorize their faces: the tall, pale male with a bald, veiny head and thick black eyebrows, the short female with onyx skin and thick black braid, and last, the male I followed to the Inn the other night. His cap securely in place, and his brown eyes scanning everything around him.
If this mission weren’t so detrimental, I would abandon my post and find out where that male lives. He keeps popping up, and I have a feeling that if I can get to him, then the one I have been searching for will finally be within my reach.
But now is not the time. Now, I must free a man who will wake very soon.
I adjust my bag across my chest. I wasn’t able to prepare like the last few kills. Everything will have to be done on site, which brings a sense of nostalgia to the whole thing. This is how I used to get things done. So, I know it is possible to succeed and don’t need to wait for an opportunity to set it all up.
Quietly, I make my way down the slanted roof until I can safely jump onto the next one that is beside an alley. I use the thick, thorny vines to lower myself to the cobblestone road and wait in the shadows to ensure no one is around.
Taking a few deep, calming breaths, I slip on my mask of death. I become the ghost of the night everyone is whispering about—fearing—and let all emotions, other than anger, flow away on the night’s cool breeze. They are not needed here.
Once mentally ready, I slip into the lamplight of the main road. Despite the adrenaline demanding I make this quick, I take my time walking across the street.
Death doesn’t run. It stalks. It slinks and slithers until it catches its prey unguarded.
A shadow crosses one of the lower windows of the dark brown wooden home. I wait to see if it is alone, to make a mental note of how many I must kill this night. Luckily, there is just one.
I feel a little uncomfortable going into this house blind without the floor plan or exit planned out, but I also crave the challenge.
A muffled scream fills the night, and I up my pace to the door they used earlier. I crack it open and slip into the dimly lit interior as stealthily as possible. A staircase stands directly in front of me, with a small, narrow hallway to the left of it. It seems to lead to the front of the house, where the shadows moved in front of the window.
Carefully, I make my way, testing the floorboards to see if they squeak with my full weight. The muffled scream comes again, but I don’t let it quicken my pace. I need to do this right in order to save his life.
The house is cold and dark—just like its owner. Decorated with ornate carvings of flowers and pictures of people I both recognize and have never seen before. Their frilly clothes and predatory smiles cause a shiver to skate down my spine. And the artist somehow captured the illusion of their eyes following the viewer wherever they walk.
It also doesn’t surprise me that the female actively chooses darkly colored candles to light up her home instead of the typically preferred white. The shadows appear to be deeper and more menacing than in other places.
Little does she know this aids me. She probably would never believe someone would come to her home to seek justice. Just like the hagveen, Keryth never look up because they believe they are the biggest predator. But unlike the giant bird, the Keryth don’t swiftly consume their victims; they play with their food.
Finally, after what feels like hours, I make it to the door with the screams coming from the other side. I pause with my hand on the knob and remind myself what it felt like to be tied up at the mercy of someone who thrives on violence. I let fear and anger take root and fuel my movements.
Testing the handle, I find it unlocked. Slowly, I crack the door open to gauge what is happening and where everyone is located. The female straddles the man, lying on a giant four-poster bed barely lit up by the one candle that struggles to reach them behind the bed curtains.
I raise my pipe to my lips, already prepared with a dart and aim. With a soft puff of air, the dart flies and finds a home in the female’s naked ass. The bitch is so consumed by her greed that she doesn’t even notice. I patiently wait for the effect to render her unconscious so I can pull the man out from under her useless form.
First, she takes breaks between gulps. Then her arms slacken, causing her to fall forward time and time again until she doesn’t rise at all. I pull the monster onto the floor and turn to help the young man.
“I’m here to help,” I whisper.
He doesn’t move, only stares at the ceiling, not seeing a thing. I feel for a pulse and only find a weak thud that is uneven and getting slower.
I am too late.
He is now beyond my reach. I can’t let him die with the fear I have felt too many times during those torturous years. So, I climb onto the bed, not even bothering to put my bag down, and carefully place his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and sing a song from a distant memory full of blurred faces. My tears fall onto his cheeks, mixing with his, and even as my voice cracks with sadness and regret, I continue to sing. He softly smiles with a shuddering breath and his light green eyes close, never to open again.
I continue to hold him for a while longer. No longer comforting him but myself. This is my fault. I could have saved him, but instead, I used him for my own selfish reasons. And now the Keryth had claimed another soul. Another Elani forced to endure their greed until every last drop of their blood was stolen and consumed.
The female stirs, reminding me that my job is not done. I carefully remove the young man’s head from my lap and softly lay it on the pillow as I get up.
“I will be back for you,” I promise, brushing the hair from his forehead.
