The forest was sparse and the trees tall and thin. It was home to many woodland creatures, and the place of work for the average hunter making a living off the animals he hunts.
Armed with a bow and a quiver full of arrows strapped to his back, the old man, the hunter, made his way through the forest with two dead rabbits tied around his waist.
By chance, he came to the edge of a small cliff overlooking a lake, captivated by what he saw much to his surprise.
A naked woman was bathing in the lake. She looked young, yet mature. Her skin was visibly pale in the evening light, even from afar, and her black hair was extremely long, as seen by how it spread in the water.
The old hunter, seeing such a sight, put down his bow and pulled down his pants. On his knees, hiding in the bush, he tried to get as close as he could without falling or being seen, trying his best to get a good look as he pleasured himself to the sight of the woman. However, his stroking was cut short when she got out of the water.
A terrified expression replaced his beady-eyed lustful gaze upon seeing the lower snake-like body of the woman.
He fell back on his bare bum, pulling his pants up in a panic, before grabbing his bow and running off.
The woman, the monster, the lamia as she was, was Marasia. At a glance, she wouldn't have seemed recognizable. Her scars had healed and she had grown much, now more akin to a proper adult, rather than a teenager.
She grabbed her hair in both her hands, straining it, before her slim, naked body was dressed in an instant, by what could only be described as an unnaturally dark, thin silk. which covered her body in the shape of a dress. It was her own mana which she used to dress herself, having learned to wield it properly after years away from her master.
Not far from the lake she bathed in, was the small hill cavern she took shelter in, alongside the pack of wolves that considered her of no threat even as she slithered past the adults and young pups.
The journals left by her master were some of the only remaining belongings she possessed. Her days were spent learning from her master's journals, which she did diligently, day after day, hour on end, without fail. This continued for months, reaching years, surviving in the wilderness.
Even her own master would not have expected her to study so diligently, and many individuals
She was blindly devoted, fanatical, a coin flip away from being insane, all in the name of pleasing her lord and master.
Of those few belongings she still kept, was a small hand mirror which, in the time she was not occupied reading her master's journals, she was captivated by, staring in depth at her own reflection.
She made an assortment of faces in the mirror, trying to seem more mature, alluring, or even smiling in different ways. Sufficed to say, with her natural appearance, pale unblemished skin, and sharp facial features, even with her venomous green eyes and sharp hooked fangs, she had a comely appearance, above average, but not enough to be considered an unparalleled beauty.
Her insecurity and dissatisfaction were shown in her expression and in the way she turned and pressed her fingers on her face. It was not her own opinion which haunted her thoughts, but the opinion of her master towards her appearance, which she grew increasingly worried about.
This fear kept her unsteady, even as she slept, coiled up in her den, squirming in a cold sweat, haunted by her own nightmare.
Her eyes opened wide in shock as she held her breath. Finally, she breathed out, then she heard something. The adult wolves, too, were awoken by the noise.
The sound was only heard for their keen sense of hearing, the sound of movement in the woods, the crackling of leaves, snapping of sticks, multiple steps pertaining to a group.
Humans, armed with pitchforks, torches, wearing the simplest of dirtied clothing, and with dogs, came into view of the cavern.
They shouted: "Over here!" Alerting the rest as they surrounded the cavern.
One of them threw a torch near the cave, giving view to all inside, the wolves bundled together, snarling ferociously, and Marasia huddled against the wall in worry.
"It's here!!" One of the men shouted. "Bunch of wolves too!! Hurry!" That very same man turned back to look at Marasia, a hateful glint in his eye. "Fuckin monster!"
Having just awoken, Marasia was still drowsy and not in her right state of mind.
"How... How... How..." She repeated. "How did they find me...?"
The majority of the men looked like they were mere peasants and farmers, but a few of them were equipped in proper armor, thick leather and even wielding swords. They were clearly guards or soldiers.
The soldiers took the lead, giving commands to the other men.
"Let us take the brunt, stay back, don't let them escape."
Marasia simply didn't have experience in dealing with humans, she didn't even hunt for food, as the wolves would do that for her. The only time she'd ever had contact with a human was with her master, but even he was cold to her.
But, faced with the threat of death, and having finally fully awoken up, Marasia lifted herself off of the stone at her back.
The shadows at the edges of the torch's light grew darker, before stretching forward and spreading.
"It's moving" One of the soldiers stepped closer with his blade raised, and at that moment, he fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood.
The rest of the men flinched, just trying to understand for a moment, what'd just happened.
"What the hell...?!"
"Witch... Witchcraft!!" One of the men roared, backing up in fear for their lives as the wolves began prowling forward, their fur raised, their sharp teeth bared, and their heads lowered in a threatening manner.
Marasia too, moved further into the light, a pure, inky darkness surrounding and following after her.
She held out her hand, a black liquid, oozing from her sleeve. It tendrilled down, like blood being spilled, before forming the shape of a long, slender blade.
"Fuck!! Run!!" The men fled like cowards but were unable to escape with their lives even as they spread out amongst the trees.
Like game, they were hunted down and slaughtered. The torches they carried, they used to navigate through the dark, but it because of those very same torches that they were quickly found.
Some tripped and fell in their escape, only to be beheaded where they lay. Others hid, but were found nonetheless.
Her breathing was erratic, trying to keep up with her heartbeat and jittery nerves. She couldn't even keep her hand held straight, but it wasn't because she had taken the lives of so many, but simply because she was excited, as seen by the grin on her thin lips.
Her attackers were the villagers and guards from an extremely small village on the outskirts of the forest.
The worried folk were awaiting the return of their men who'd left to hunt down the monster. The wives of the men were restless, with some staying up to await them, despite knowing they might not return until past late.
Unfortunately, what would crawl out from the forest and into the village, would not be any of the men.
She slithered into the village, bringing with her the thick reek of blood that covered her in splatters. What she would do next would not be driven by bloodlust, but by teachings that repeated over and over in her mind, even slipping from her tongue as she stuck down the villager in her path: "Leave no evidence."
By the end of her slaughter, she would be out of breath, sweat falling down her forehead and cheeks, mixing with the blood splatter on her jaw. She struggled to steady her breathing, plunging her long blade into the dirt and wiping away the droplet of sweat with her sleeve, all the while the wolves devoured corpses near her.
They ripped limb from torso, snapped flesh from tissue, tore into their fresh, bloodied red meat, and even crunshed bones like they were as brittle as dry wood. The sound of them feasting on the still-warm bodies could be heard from inside, where a young survivor hid beneath the bed, covering tightly their mouth with both hands.
Perhaps it was fear for her life which drained her strength, or her own tears which slipped between the cracks, loosening her grip. Her nostrils flared red trying to keep her breathing under control, struggling not to whimper too loudly, while also trying not to suffocate in her attempt to hold her breath.
He was one of the younger women who had managed to hide before she was found, forced to wait out the night while a corpse lay on the floor just ahead of her, the frozen expression it had, the wide open, deceased eyes staring right at her.
Her elbows began to hurt from the stone floor. She didn't know how much longer she could stand the position she was in.
Moments passed, the sound of mush and cracking continued, but then, something brushed past her ankle. Frightened, she jumped, the sound of her head hitting the bed she hid under alerting the wolves.
They all raised their heads from their meals. Marasia too, looked in the direction the sound came from.
She raised her head and slithered over.
The woman feared for her life more than before. She prayed no one heard her, but she that they did. She then prayed they would not find her, but sadly, a dark figure came into the room she was in and dragged her away.
She let out shrill cries and shrieks, caused by the pain of being dragged on the ground by her long hair, her lower body being scraped against the rough ground, and the roots of her scalp being yanked with each pull.
Tears flooded down her face as she began to whisper words under each gasp of air and cry.
"Goddess o'graceful- I pray thy save- Demonspawn- Mother of light- Please-"
Her praying made Marasia stop in her tracks. She looked down at the woman, praying with her hands clasped together. Something about seeing her praying annoyed her, as if zealousness made her upset at the sight of blasphemy.
"The lord you pray to will not save you."
The woman opened her eyes in shock hearing her speak. She tilted her head up, looking up at the very corner of her eyes at Marasia, who was looking back down at her with a cold look in her eye.
"My holiness..." The woman muttered.
"Surprised I can speak your tongue? Of course you are. You humans think us, monsters, and that we are nothing more than mindless savages. How audacious you are, praying to your god, when you are the assailants."
"Wh-What...?" The woman stammered on her words. "I... I... I don't know what you mean." Clearly, she simply didn't know the meaning of the words Marasia used, only being a commoner with little to no education.
"What I mean?" Marasia raised her voice, throwing the woman to the ground. "What I mean is that you pray to your god, asking to be saved, begging to be avenged, and yet, you are the ones who attacked me, first. Despite me having not laid a finger on any of you, or having even approached your village, you still sent your men to kill me. Who is the true monster?"
The woman's thoughts were jumbled together, unable to form even a sentence.
"There was a time I wish I had a god to pray to, to save me from my hunger and pain." Marasia lowered herself down to the woman, inching closer to her as she crawled back on the floor. "Even if I couldn't understand it at the time..." Her slim finger caressed the side of the woman's face. "I did when my lord saved me."
The woman shivered at the cold touch of her skin, and the sharp tip of her nail which ever so slightly poked at her cheek. Her lip quivered. She was afraid, and yet, despite that, she spoke words of courage and spite, as if wanting to vent her own wrath before her inevitable death.
"You..." She muttered under her softest breath.
"You...?"
"You..." She raised her chin to look dead straight into the eyes of the lamia. A blind look in her eye, a lifeless expression, and a cold yet slightly quivering voice. "...Are a monster. The goddess fury smite you. In hell, you shall burn for your sins. Repent for those you have harmed, you hag."
"Hag...?!" Marasia couldn't believe what she had heard, an unbecoming look on her face as she scraped her teeth together. She shoved the woman to the ground with a grunt and a roar. "Hag?! You...! Wench!!"
The woman yelped, crawling back and away through the blood-soaked mud. Her elbow hit something, and when she turned back to look, she realized she was next to a half-eaten corpse with a no longer recognizable face.
Again, she broke out into prayer as Marasia made her way to the woman with her long, slender, blade of black in her grip.
"Hag?!" She roared once again, raising her blade to the night sky, and with it pointed downward at the praying and panicked woman, she impaled it into her gut.
The woman couldn't even muster the strength to scream as she coughed and choked on her own gushing blood, pouring out from her mouth.
"You know... I used to eat live rats in the forest to survive. I'd often see a few, running around. When I was lucky, I'd manage to catch one. I would eat it whole. The disgusting taste and texture of eating a live rat are like eating mud and sticks. You would not know such a harsh life..." She lowered herself to the dying woman splayed out in the mud and dirt, mere inches away from her ear. "...A human woman like you. You are pretty, sought after by men to be bred and wed. I wonder, would my lord find fondness in me if I were more like you?"
Marasia pulled back, taking her blade out from its place in the woman's stomach, and being sure to twist in the process, just to inflict that much more pain onto her.
She looked down at the woman, watching the look on her face as she began to lose consciousness as she once again raised her blade, angling the edge at the woman's hip.
"If only I were more like you..."
A straight stroke of her blade made a clean cut across the woman's hips.