--> continued
The long journey coiled time. Lleighan's futile attempts at engaging Kess in conversation only prolonged it. But what a gregarious, jovial young woman, kindhearted too to bring in two complete strangers to her home. She must be imprudently trusting, or perhaps deceitfully conspiring. Throughout her chatter, he couldn't decipher her residential partner. Was she actually living among the grove, miles away from town, alone? How could she?
This slender vixen gradually reeled in his attention.
"This is it! We're here." She pushed the unlocked door open, revealing the stone cottage escape. A bit eccentric for Kess, but it would have to do for now. Before them stood the front desk, and she walked over to the wooden table, setting the basket beside the dusty guestbook. "I have six rooms in ol' Baverry, the biggest being room 1B, which is upstairs, first door to your left. She's a singular though, but I'm sure you both would have plenty of space. Bathroom is right across the hall. I'll go fetch ya' some towels. Now don't be shy! Make yourself comfortable. The little one seems exhausted. You can let her sleep now and get her after I cook us some dinner."
--
The rest of the evening went by with lots of food and plenty of rest. Soon enough, it was five minutes till midnight.
The night's murmur lullabied the ripples of the lake to a resonating sonnet, soft enough to melt Kess into the armchair. Slowly, he drifted into a light slumber before his hunger beckoned him forward. His light steps filtered up the stairs, down the hallway, and by the ajar door of his candlelit room. He saw Syreene tucked under the sheets, fast asleep from the coma of her evening meal. But before he could pass his door, a shifting shadow turned his head back to the slight crack.
Could it be Lleighan? She told him she wanted to retire. Surely she—
Kess gasped.
—Lleighan? How unconventional! His eyes grew wide as she pursued Syreene, unraveling the sheets over the little one while her transformation diluted her beauty into a monstrous mug. Fangs etched from ear to ear, flared nostrils pushed up her now dark, pasty skin—it was all too clear to him now, this façade she bore to rid herself from possible suspicion. Because, who would ever suspect such a lovely lady?
"So, you're the Monokenn?" He confronted, arms crossed, back lounged against the door threshold.
She instantly turned around, morphing into her appealing elfin mask. The elf quickly draped Syreene with the sheets, pulling away from the bed. "Oh, I was just tucking the little one in."
"Were you now?" She hid it so well. The scent, the intoxicating scent of demonic aura. She was now bathed in it. He sauntered over and clenched her neck, his tongue licking over his lips. Kess leaned into her. "Your first mistake was making her your next target. Your second," he grinned, baring his sharpened teeth, "was keeping the door open."
At last, he could set this famine to rest. She felt weakened, he could sense, perhaps by his sheer disclosure or motives. His breed, a rarity no doubt, brought a mallet of fear and confusion to her as he fought her against the vanity. He prepared to indulge, clasping a hand over her piercing screams before an audible banging downstairs signaled him to cease. The front door thrashed, a muffled cohort of enraged civilians outside. With his slight drop of guard, Kess allowed the Dessarian to escape with a leap out the window. He'd pursue, the meal too hot to liberate. Unfortunately for him, the mob caught his shadow, lit torches with weapons now trailing him.
He was agile—the hunt short-lived. He snatched her, reeling her in by the collar of her dress, and dragged her down against the dry terrain. He engaged her again, pinning her down as she bellowed out a cry for help.
"PLEASE NO! DEMON, SPARE ME!"
"Spare you?" he huffed, his eyes rolling to a sharp crimson red. "It seems we are quite different after all."
She was a feast long overdue…
A sweet stream of life filled his suckling lips with ecstasy. He was subdued, brought down by the overpowering appetite. Kess began to lose control, ripping the very skin of disguise from the dying demon. Gluttony—he devoured her throat ruthlessly, absent to the mob now before him.
"Have mercy!" A man bawled out, pulling Kess' eyes away from his meal and toward the little girl cradled in his arms. He froze, mouth agape, absorbing the fear from Syreene's eyes.
She twitched, her soft voice silencing the air. "Kes… sirre?"
He cringed.
The locks to his gate were ripped open. Her voice, his name, like a vicious poison torrenting through him, pushed him to the brink. Out into the surface, this malice, this true form of his would whip an uncontrollable slaughter! Those eyes of his snapped, his hands gripping his skull, ready to cleave his head wide open. The human in him was dying, surrendering itself to a beastly form. And in the very scarce seconds of evolution, he determined where she'd heard this name before…
This reveal left his audience shirking back, his structure elongated and hunched, bones outstretched, frame deformed as he cried out in agony. His flesh coated with a black mane, his once humanly facial features lost to a canine mug. Stretching out his beastly limbs, he twitched his furry ears forward, heaving out a deep grunt.
His piercing eyes studied the scattering assemble. Poised, he plotted his ambush, curling his snout back as he flashed them his fangs. Letting out a trembling growl, he lunged, turning a fleeting flock into a sloppy paste. Painting the grove in red, his massacre left no man standing, shredding through mangled bodies as if they were paper. And finally, a hiatus, a stare-down between prey and predator. Syreene wept and coiled herself against the tree behind her, quivering while Kess circled her. Helpless to his uncontrollable powers, the enormous hound wielded a bloody muzzle before the young elfin girl. As he prompted to approach, she bolted, running as fast as she could away from her once safe guardian. Kess, fighting with every ounce of sensation he had over his limbs, grounded himself, allowing her to flee.
Morning strolled shortly after, enough time for him to revert back to his stationary state.
The cave she sought refuge in catered to a monopoly of filth. He hung over her sleeping shivering fetal composure, his eyes nearly sweltering with tears. He had no other option but to let her go, not until he controlled his prime form. The streets in the neighboring village had to do, and as much as it ached him inside, he parted from her, watching from afar as a passing stranger tended to his little mistress.
Nothing, he wanted nothing to do with this past. He sought inner peace when he converted to The Brotherhood, and with it, he'd gained a new sense of purpose, a new identity. Perhaps it was best not to dwell on it, on her. Narus stood up, ready to extinguish his candlelight, quite suffice with just the mere notion of her safety. Yes, perhaps it was for the best…
SLAM
The door flew open, followed by distressing words that left him breathless.
"She's gone!"
-----
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