Insatiable Assassin [On hold]

Teaser

The man was prey.

One foot after the other... his feet rapidly pounded the dirt underneath, fleeing as fast as he could. Panicked and desperate to preserve his life.

The predator liked when her prey led her to chase. It fueled the burning fire within her, making the kill much more satisfying.

He collided with the dirt, rolling in the earth's filth. A shrill cry interrupted the night's air as she pounced on him. Her hand slid to the hilt of her dagger, unsheathing it from her side. The chase was over, and it ended in death's trap.

The dagger glimmered under the fluorescent moon. Its awaiting victim quivered under the point—sobbing heavily.

"Please, please..." he muttered, unknowing how futile his cries were. "Spare my life."

"Now, now." Her sickly sweet voice hushed, emotionless towards the cries.

Her fingers snaked into the man's greasy strands, gripping his scalp in a tight hold. The dagger pressed firmly onto his neck.

"This will be over in one skip," she spoke in an odd, comforting tone—smiling. "Ready?"

The entranced victim nodded his head slowly, absently welcoming his fate.

Her irises swirled a deep blood red as she grinned and licked her lips greedily. With incredible swiftness, she slashed the sharp metal across his flesh.

"Mhm..." An encaged moan emitted from her throat as she felt the victim's soul abandon its body and become a part of her. She loomed over the fresh corpse, pride emanated from her sadistic smile.

"May you rest in Edecor," she whispered.

This darkness of the night spoke to her while she approached the old hostel. Whispers and cries from the lost spirits lingering in the forests. Creatures that could not rest, frolicking.

The night's cold temperature of her skin deflected the warm summer's breeze that whipped against her.

The wooden door groaned as she pushed it open. Dust flew and cobwebs smacked her face. The boards beneath her feet creaked with each step she took inside.

The place was barely lit, and if she was not so bonded with darkness, she would have been blinded by it. The woman almost wondered if the place was occupied, but undoubtedly she smelled the life lingering in it.

A lamp suddenly flickered on and illuminated the counter space. Slow footsteps grew closer until a young clerk appeared. Seda released a huff of disappointment; Though handsome, he was scrawnier than she preferred.

He looked upon her with fascination until spooked by her chilling presence. The clerk trembled under her gaze.

The woman was beautiful, she didn't appear threatening. Her hair resembled the feathers of a raven—it was a strange style in which part of it resembled horns. Her skin, though a warm golden colour, appeared as pale as the scleras that surrounded her near soulless irises.

She was curvaceous but as slim as they come—her figure fitting the tight black leather she wore.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" The clerk swallowed the lump of nervousness that settled in his throat, but his shaking frame was not unnoticed.

"A suite for one night," she requested.

Unlike her aura, her voice was light and silky like that of siren.

"Five silvers," he responded with a deep, shy tone.

Seda gathered the coins then placed them into the clerk's trembling hand. Little did the poor boy know, his fear aroused the hungry predator in front of him.

"Erald." She read the name on the boy's tag. "How old are you?"

Erald glanced up to catch her lustful gaze. "19."

If he wasn't already, the sinister look that briefly flashed across her face would have made him.

"Lovely..." she drawled out, clicking her teeth. Seda could hardly contain the excitement that boiled within her. "My key?" Erald placed the suite key in her hand.

"It isn't too late to dine is it? A meal will do my horse and I well."

"N-no, I can prepare something."

"Thank you, Erald. I expect you to bring it to my room."

She turned sharply, the hair that fell down her back swayed to briefly reveal the symbol tattooed on the base of her neck.

"Swicca," Erald mused in a whisper. She paused as she heard him.

A grin slowly formed on her thick, red lips.

"Seda, the swicca," she corrected with the faintest chuckle.

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|Swicca| • female assassin

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**Keep in mind the terminology is fictional and very much made up by my own brain!