Sanguine Debauchery

[Hecate Rothchild]

The game was afoot in her mind as Hecate closed her docile blue eyes for a moment and when they re opened they had shifted to the dark pinkish red, the noticeable trait of the dark personality taking over. "Holy shit...." She said as she stood up and stretched her arms and brushed aside several of the ornate chess pieces.

Her gaze turned towards the boy who had seemingly fallen asleep again due to the overwhelming boredom caused by her other self. "Oy boy wake up." she said as she slammed her hand down onto the chess table jarring Yandere lover awake. "Oh? Am I boring you?" she asked with ire in her voice. "fine, let me show you something to make your blood run cold." She said with her sick smile, the thought of seeing crimson rivulets of life dripping from a wound made her body yearn as she thought about it.

Taking the boy by the arm she led him back into the bathhouse by the white marbles stairway, and down and down they went.

Upon reaching the classical inspired bathhouse Hecate continued walking along the wall leading the boy by the arm even now. She stepped on a small pressure place, hidden among the marble tiles, giving way to an opening before the pair of people. The white marble that had defined the very architecture of Fort Rothchild was redefined, as Black marble with red veins lit by torchlight became a new scene. This was Dark Hecate's inner sanctum, a place where she could unleash the horrific desires she harbored upon the people and things of the omniverse. Inside the smallish hallway there were no distinguishing things but the thick banded iron door at the end gave a whole new meaning to the term ominous. The door was admittedly ornate, however each detailed acid etching in the iron seemed to just bear nothing but dread. Carefully etched drops of blood seemed to flow freely from cuts, carved into the iron. Hecate's body gave a small shiver as her right hand gripped the twisted iron handle and pulled the heavy door open, even the sound of the hinges opening gave an eerie feel.

Yandere lover gulped at all of what he was seeing, his eyes not even fully adjusted to the new lighting.

"Welcome to my domain." Hecate said, the words rolling off her tongue like those of a lover whispering into her lover's ear. Yandere Lover's body felt a shiver down his spine. His eyes took in the "Domain" she had spoken of. It was a dungeon, and a frightening one at that, the walls held chains, shackles and other restraining tools. It seemed to Yandere lover that the place was where several of his fetish hentai's had been recorded. not that he would ever tell her such a thing....

The room had small grooves cut into the marble flooring leading to what appeared to be a large basin or tub. In the lighting Yandere lover couldn't make it out. Hecate smiled as she walked towards the center of the large hidden room, it was then noticeable that the dungeon floor sloped inwards ever so slightly towards that tub.

Hecate stepped down into it, taking several small steps showing it was large and deep enough for her to lay down quite comfortably into. She didn't say a word as she walked around showing off the different tools and items hanging on the walls or nestled neatly on the floor.

The glimmer in her eyes made Yandere Lover take a moment to clear his throat before speaking. "so.... what is all of this for?" He asked, hoping he was not to be the one to find out first hand.

“I am so glad you asked.” Hecate said with a wicked sing song voice. “This” She said as she pointed back towards the central tub. “Is where I plan to bathe in blood.” He smile widened as she watched the boy take an uncomfortable step backwards This was a little too much even for him. “Oh don't worry, you are not on the menu…. “ She said as she stepped towards him, making him back up into the wall, the sound of clinking chains startled the boy as they touched his back as he pressed against it.

Hecate halted her advance as she looked around her private palace within a palace, everything in this room was a tool of wickedness, and she loved each and every one as if it was her child. Her eyes turned towards the boy once more before she whispered in her silky voice again. “I want to go get some more of those elven girls…” She said as her tongue escaped her mouth, wetting her lips.

Yandere Lover didn't know what to say, or how to react. He had known she was a little crazy, that was why he had found her so damn attractive, but this was not what he expected from her. He had expected her to come out swinging her swords and cutting down any who would oppose her or threatened to take her away from him, her Senpai. Instead she was hungry.. No lusting for blood.

“Where would you expect to find them?” He asked as he looked for an excuse to derail her plan, He loved who she was but he was not going to partake in unwarranted murder like this. Not even that flea Warren Zimmer deserved something like this.

No He was her Senpai, and she his Waifu even if she didn't know it yet He was going to help her, He was strong, not only did he kill a prime, but he had made that very prime grovel at her feet like little more than a dog. He had already committed to her, he had told his mom he was not coming back, and he had no intention of going back, plus he was sure she could handle herself. Even if she had lost to a fairy.

Hecate watched the hesitation in the boy’s eyes fade away, “Good” She thought as she grabbed his wrist and headed back to the surface.

[Hecate Rothchild]

Oh yes, the passion was real, Hecate could feel excitement permeating through the very core of her being. "How many will I take?" She thought to herself with her wicked grin, behind her walked the boy still. He had donned his strange looking hat once more and now had a sword of comparable length and design to those used by the other her. It was a seemingly interesting weapon, though still it paled in comparison to the spiritual blades she once used. He stopped for a moment and pulled out a strange looking device similar to the kinds of tools used by Warren. A hearty laugh erupted from his throat as he read something from the strangely lit device. Hecate didn't care much for the strange device nor did she care what was written on it. Reading was more of the other her's thing.

"Five... no six.....no... As many as he can carry!" She said aloud, causing Yandere lover to peel his eyes upwards from the screen he was staring at to look at Hecate who was now babbling to herself with numbers. "Whatever. Every guy in the anime club would be jealous of him, not only had he managed to meet the waifu of his dreams but he had also managed to participate with her on her favorite hobby. This was more entertaining than sitting in a dusty old library anyways.

Hecate led him back into the woods, towards the direction she had found the campers before. "So boy... What do you know of me?" She asked as they walked, the silence aside from the sound of boots on dirt. Dark Hecate hated such silence, she prefered the sounds of people to the sounds of nothing.

The boy looked quietly without saying anything, seemingly to consider what he knew or perhaps as a way to stall for time, either way Hecate didnt care. But when he did decide to speak he said something interesting, much to her surprise. "From what I read you come from a land called Vestura, a place with a rich and vibrant history.... but also a dark current time." He said choosing his wording carefully lest she snap on her Senpai.

[Hecate Rothchild]

"You can say that." Hecate said as she walked, her leather boots with iron studs on the sole dug into the dirt leaving a small footprint behind. It was hard for Yandere Lover to really notice it much, clearly her boots had been designed for ease of concealment in wooded areas.

"What else?" Hecate asked as she turned her head backwards towards him for the first time.

"ummm..." The boy said as he thought about the books he had read as well as the things he had seen. "You are a mage?" He said with a light question in his tone.

"Witch" Hecate corrected. "In my culture, only males bear the title of Mage, for us women, we are treated more as slaves, or prisoners." She explained without emotion.

"What is the difference?" The boy asked as he felt a sliver of joy in knowing more about his waifu, and the fact she was somewhat opening up to him.

"Mages are.... more of the tacticians, I guess would be the best way to word it. Where as we of the Witch Corps, were more front line shock infantry." She described as her mind went back to the days when she had gone at it with mages. "They think they are better than us, since all witches are disposable, of each class of 100 witches only a maximum of 25 ever survive, sometimes even less. A witch is made powerful by breaking her, and who she is as a person." Hecate began to explain as the pair reached what looked to be an animal path in the woods. Hecate looked around straining her hearing to its limits before continuing on her path.

"Every day was a struggle to stay alive, learning how to use magic, learning how to never be vulnerable, learning how to accept your lot in life." Hecate elaborated before coming to a halt, In the distance she could see what appeared to be a spear poking out from above a bush, moving slowly almost as if it was being carried by a sentry.

Hecate walked closer towards whoever was holding the spear, keeping her weapons in the sheaths they now rested in. Abducting ld be the same as a declaration of war, considering that she knew next to nothing about the elves it was not a wise idea to initiate open war just by herself.

A simple not of her head was the only acknowledgment she gave the spear wielder as she looked at him while passing. The man was clad in interlinking armor scales and long thin strips of plate.It made for a formidable and impressive looking armor, the likes of which Hecate had not seen before. The spear was no longer than eight feet in length but the curve of the head made the weapon look very capable of delivering lethal blows with ease. The spearhead itself reminded Hecate of a snake, or a flame.

The sentryman stopped Hecate and the boy as they passed, taking notice of the armed state of the pair. “What business do you have with those of the great tree?” He asked, the tip of his spear shifted from upright to an angle. Hecate knew that bringing forth the spear from that position was not only efficient but also very effective. “We are mere exploring primes. Looking for a place to lay our head.” Hecate said, even with her wicked smile the lie sounded convincing, at least to Yandere Lover.

[Hecate Rothchild]

The sentry however was not convinced. “Not to alarm you, but I do not believe you.” He said with a very plain as day attitude, the spear lowered to a level position pointed directly at Hecate’s heart. The smile on her face didn't fade, in fact the presence of danger made her body ache with desire, the desire to spill blood.

Yandere lover took a step back gripping the handle of his weeb sword in preparation of a well practiced draw technique. He wanted to impress Hecate with the speed of his draw. Hecate still stood calmly, breathing quickly, the wicked grin and red eyes was a menacing combination even to the seasoned sentry who seemed to hesitate before speaking. “I … I will ask again, what is your reason for being here?” The spear hovered a mere inch or two in front of Hecate's breast, where her beating heart lay.

“Very well” She replied in a near sultry voice. “It is my intention to capture, imprison and torture a hand full of your people… It is my intention to keep them on the very cusp of death as I bleed them dry for the sole purpose my my own sexual fulfillment.” She said as she leaned inwards allowing the spear to touch her. She shuddered, each passing moment her heart felt as if it was going to escape from her chest. “Yes, this is the thrill!” She thought as she leaned inward. The serpentine spear began pressing against her pale white flesh until slowly a small crimson rivulet began to flow down the front of her body.

The sentry seemed aghast to witness such a blatant disregard for personal safety. “I am taking you in! The elf said in a slightly confused tone. His attention now turned towards the boy holding the handle of a long blade. “I must warn you to desist lest you find yourself bleeding out boy!” The elf called out loudly, almost as if attempting to draw some of his comrades to assist in the apprehension of the duo.

The moment he had called out Hecate grabbed at the shaft of the spear, twisting her body and using the momentum to pull the sentry forward, driving the head of the spear into the dirt. A flash of steel caught the sentry as Yandere Lover drew his blade with the speed of one who had spent their life in devotion to the blade.

The weeb sword despite it’s inferior craftsmanship cut deep into the elven armor, a small flow of red began to seep out of the cut, the wound was clearly not fatal, not due to a failure on the boy’s part but rather as a testament to the durability and quality of the elven metalworking skills.

A pained gasp erupted from the elf’s throat as he stumbled forward caught off guard by the sheer speed of the boy’s strike. As Yandere Lover moved in to finish the man off Hecate’s arm outstretched halting him from delivering the killing blow. “This makes number one.” She said with a sadistic glimmer in her eyes.

[Hecate Rothchild]

The boy slid his long weeb sword back into its scabbard with a satisfied smile on his face. “Yippie Kai yay mutha fucker.” He said as he looked on at Hecate with his eyes hidden by the brim of his fedora.

“Well?” Hecate said as she waited for him to pick up the elf. “We don't have time to stand around and dawdle boy. Pick him up and let's go!” She said as she watched him pick the still breathing elven sentry up and threw him over his shoulder.

As Yandere lover took the lead heading back the way they came, hecate took the time to cover the tracks they boy had made, taking the elven spear with her she make a point to use her boots to redirect footprints. She didn't expect the other elves to dedicate much time to tracking her. Even so, Hecate contained her excitement for what was to come as she worked to hide her tracks.

“Cut to the left” She called out ahead of her, she needed to lead the trail to a body of water. She could see the elf's breathing beginning to stabilize as the blood slowly halted from the deep gash left by the boy’s blade.

“Who are you people? The elf asked between pained breaths. Hecate didn't respond, she knew that talking in a situation like this could distract her enough that she could make a mistake in covering her tracks.

“Help!” The elf called out and was subsequently silenced by a heavy handed blow delivered by Hecate. Shaking her hand as it went loose from the power of the blow, she would need to wrap it later to prevent it from bruising.

“Hurry up, we should be good, head to the creek over there.” She said quietly as she pointed towards a few foot wide creek, despite its small size it was flowing with a very fast pace. Perfect for concealing one's position.

Hecate could feel the water sloshing over her boots as she walked in the waters allowing the water to cover her tracks for her. Using this method the pair managed to make up a great deal of lost time. After only a twenty minute detour, Hecate could see the outline of Fort Rothchild in the distance. The sadistic smile appeared once more upon Hecate’s face as she led the boy and his charge to the gates.

Deep inside her subconscious the more moderate side of Hecate screamed inside her own head. She knew what was going on was wrong. She was a soldier, not a murderer! Still her please for rationality fell upon deaf ears as she could do nothing more than watch through her own eyes at what was unfolding.

Meanwhile the darker side of Hecate watched as the boy carried the armor clad warrior down into the bowels of the castle.

The elf warrior awoke after the crass blow to his jaw left him unconscious. His ears were ringing but more so than anything he struggled to move. His side, the one that had been ripped open by the curved weeb sword was bandaged, the wound did not pain him even in the slightest. He tried to move his hands to check it however the sounds of chains clinking together and a taught resistance to movement was all he could hear and feel. "What the..." He said, his voice reverberating throughout the dimly lit dungeon. Even his Eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the nearly nonexistent lighting, a single torch was lighting the room and it was on a passageway wall. He had no idea where he was. Hanging his head down he looked at his body the best he could, even his legs were restrained to the floor. the thick iron cuffs on his wrists bit into his flesh as he pulled at them, testing the give on each of the restraints. When he realized he could barely move any of his limbs without some degree of discomfort he turned his attention to escape. As long as he was not dead he had a chance to get out of here, and when he did he was going to make sure to bring the full weight of the elves of Yggdrasil upon this psychopath whoever she was.

Hecate smiled to herself as she watched the elf from the darkest corner of the dungeon, there was no way even if he had perfect vision that he could see her in such perfect darkness, his struggle was admirable as she watched how he tested his restraints, as well as the restraint he showed in fighting them. She herself had made the mistake of fighting chains that bound, and each time you pulled, the iron shackles would slowly dig away at the flesh of your hands and wrist eating away until your wrists became slick with blood. Infection would take hold and with that came weakness, the weaker you were the more weight you put on your bindings increasing the pain and dragging the ordeal out. She was impressed with how well trained the elf was. She didn't move or make a noise, keeping even her breathing regulated. She had made sure to be extra careful on how she approached interaction with this test subject. She needed to get information on the elves, but also she wanted to see if there was any anatomical differences between them and humans.

[Hecate Rothchild]

Of course to her this was just part of the torture, Hecate still needed several more to fulfill her dark and twisted desires. She knew with the power of omnillium in the palm of her hand she could easily just summon forth a person to shackle to the wall, in fact she had already considered it, but those were just constructs, they had nothing to lose, nothing to gain and in the end they were just hollow shells. Just as hollow as she was.

Hecate watched for a long time, she didn't know just how long, but long enough for her to study the man. She had treated his wounds, not out of compassion but rather to ensure he survived until she decided to end his life. She had taken his armor, and his spear and stored them securely inside of the library prior to administering aid and treatment to his wounds, of course she had already sampled a small amount of his blood, there had been so much blood. Who could blame her if she sampled it, the metallic taste had been nothing less than perfect.

Hecate finally stepped into the dim lighting, the sound of the iron studs on her boots made a ominous clacking sound as she stepped in front of the nude elf. "Hello there." She said with a odd sadistic sincerity.

The elf still weak from blood loss, looked at her with groggy eyes before muttering the simple word. "Why?"

Hecate smiled as she said nothing, instead turned on her heel and walked towards the hallway leading back to the bathhouse. stopping only for a moment to extinguish the single torch providing light to the elf.

She was glad she had sent that boy to go walk the ramparts of the walls, she couldn't contain her excitement. Pulling the orb of omnillium out from between her breasts she held it in her hand summoning forth a small pouch made of leather and garnished with semiprecious stones. Inside of the small pouch were one hundred small round slots each carefully securing a empty crystalline vial with a cork and ruby stopper. sle debated on going back down into the dungeon to take her prize but decided to wait. Patience after all was all part of the fun. She secured the small pouch to her outer thigh on her left leg. and issued a very clear warning to her other self. "If you so much as think to get rid of it I can guarantee you will not live to see another day ever...." The words struck deep into her mind cementing them into the other her.

She still needed more! one person would simply not do, the mental anguish she intended to dish out was simply too important to herself. She was so close to realizing her own dream. Most people wouldn't understand how important this was to her. She knew she would be labeled a monster by many if not all, including the boy guarding the castle above ground.

Hecate stepped back out into the midday sun whistling loudly to catch the boy's attention.

He jumped down from the tall wall landing in place like something out of a superhero movie. "And he sticks the landing!" he said with a cocky grin. His fedora landed nearly on his head with an almost practiced precision as he finished sliding it down to cover his eyes with a fluid flick of his wrist. In his own eyes this was truly a move to catch Hecate sama's attention as more than just a servant or attendant.

Hecate however was neither impressed nor curious about the display. "What a waste of energy" She commented under her breath as she looked back at him only once. "Come on!" She called out "We have work to do." She said as she once again led him into the woods in search of prey.

[Hecate Rothchild]

Yandere Lover hid the scowl under the brim of his fedora as he followed her. His Hecate Sama was noacting as he had expected, in fact she seemed to almost pay no heed to her Senpai. In the back of his mind he still had one question he wanted to ask. "Why? Why are we doing this Hecate Sama?" He asked finally hoping she wouldn't turn her ire towards him.

"Why?" She responded with a question. "Perhaps just because I want too?" This was something she had not given much thought to. Why did she wish to cause so much pain upon others. "No, I am not so crass as to simply do something like this just because I want to, though do not mistake I take great pleasure in this, more than someone like you could ever hope to understand." She responded as she continued to lead him through the woods. "More than likely, I want others to experience every excruciating moment that I have lived through, to see how strong another's will to survive is." Hecate said coldly. Her fingers twitched slightly as she decided to continue telling the boy more about who she was.

"Tell me boy, do you know what rape is? What true rape is? No I doubt that someone as limited as you could ever truly understand just what it is like to be a fifteen year old girl taken from the only family you have ever known and used for several years as nothing more than a toy to be passed between your captors? Do you boy?" Hecate asked without a trace of emotion, almost as if it no longer affected her.

"No, I didn't know" The boy replied quickly, truly he had expected her personality that he had fallen in love with to have been something that just existed. He had not considered the emotional trauma one would need to endure to become a Yandere.

"Of course you didnt, Do you know what it is like to have been....sealed with a hot iron rod? No how could you. Even if I wanted to bear children." She gaged at the thought. "I can do that no longer." Even at this she shed not a single bit of emotion. In fact a small grin was on her face, the same grin she always wore when she was hungering for one of her vices.

“Don't get me wrong, I loved every bit of it. She on the other hand was too weak and created me as an escape from her reality.” She elaborated as she halted at a tree, the distinct sound of crackling wood and the scent of burning oak filled the air around them. She had been so lost in telling of her past she had nearly lost where they were.

Why was she telling this boy about herself so willingly? Was it guilt? Or was she proud of who she was, even if it was only part of the whole picture.

“Watch carefully.” She instructed the boy as she sat down with her back to a tree and continued to talk about her past.

“You are either the victim or the predator, there is No in between. So here I am, the predator, the one who took her screams and pleas for help as she was ravaged and turned them into power and a hunger for more.” Hecate said in a low whisper. It was true, she had been born as a way to cope with the no stop sexual abuse her body had been subjected to on a daily basis. Even now her insides squirmed at the mere thought of sex.

There was a strong urge to charge into the camp swelling deep inside of Hecate, the thirst to see red splatter across the ground, the moans of those on the very cusp between life and death. Those where who she was she was a blood letter, a killer. She bore no resentment towards the guards that bedded her constantly, nor was there anger towards the elder witches that mutilated her insides to the degree they were. Even now she only felt bliss when she could spill blood. She only held resentment towards the docile side of her, the one responsible for spilling blood first. That's was to be her glory! The trophy of that first kill was to be hers! Not the selfish reader who resented the very things that defined who she was! She was a witch, one of a few who not only bore the scars of training, the kinds of training that broke even the most resolute into mindless followers! No she was Hecate Rothchild and she had overcome the darkness that swallowed most witches. “Kill your mother..” Hecate said in the same low whisper. That was the first test we had to overcome, She did it, not I. She stole the first kill, the first spray the first baptism.” Hecate said, a all trace of anger filled her voice despite her attempts to reign it in. “I wanted to held the sword, I wanted to push it in, so slow, so effortlessly. It wouldn't have taken much you know? A few pounds of pressure and shliiiick” she said trying to replicate the sound of a blade passing into flesh.

This was too much even for Yandere lover, his stomach turned sour at what she was saying. She wasn't even a true Yandere, she was just.. broken.

[Hecate Rothchild]

Hecate watched the boy walk away, a small tinge in the pit of her stomach stirred her as she stood up from behind the tree she was hiding behind. Her red eyes scanned the clearing little by little, taking in every little detail. She didn't need the boy, he was just a tool, just like everyone else.

The tall grasses of the clearing brushed against her boots as she took her first steps towards the campsite, It was similar to the one she had assaulted before, simple but effective, the elves walking around it paid the silver haired maiden little heed. It was a mistake she was more than happy to make them regret.

Yandere lover could hear the sounds of combat behind him, it was a shame she could not see him as the only true Senpai she needed. She only needed him, as did all Yandere. Instead she was more focused on her own sexual perversions, not that he minded but there was a difference between being a yandere and being sick. Given what she had said though, it was clear she just needed some space. He would give it to her, and soon she would come crawling back to him. Of course he would play the part.

He checked his dataverse device and looked at the directions, He had just accepted a job to keep his mind busy. He was still going to think about her, but now with a job in this”New Babylon?” he could continue to put his focus on the blade, that and making money.

Turning on his GPS Yandere Lover began the long walk towards the gate to the Nexus.

Hecate took a deep breath, her body ached from the exchange, her fingertips trembled at the sensation as she looked down at the gaping wound in her midsection. Blood slipped between the gaps in her fingers as it rushed out of the foot long cut. Her body felt a chill, a feeling she had come to terms with, though even now it was not fear that gripped her but rather arousal.

The incident replayed again in her mind, the campers had greeted her with arms wide open, offering food, shelter and conversation. Those trivial things did not matter to the woman known as Hecate, without ceremony her blade was drawn, a flash of steel and one of the male campers toppled to the floor, a shower of crimson washed over her face as his head toppled off to the side.His eyes blinked in disbelief as he seemed to watch his body stand there without its control system. Horror washed over him for a brief moment before his blue eyes glazed over in death.

Hecate’s grin turned to a woman who seemed adept in combat, her hands holding tightly to a long sword, the blade had no shake nore quiver to it as she held it, her determined eyes held a fire of hatred. “Was he your lover?” Hecate recalled asking the young looking woman who offered no reply, the blade steeled in her hand lunged at Hecate who parried the blade wide to the side. The sound of a horn behind her turned her gaze to the rest of the campers, all armed. Bows, spears and sword all aimed at her. Her smile widened as she lunged at the girl who seemed to have expected a different reaction. Her long curved blade bit deep into the young elf's midsection erupting from the back in a flurry of frozen flesh. Hecate pulled on the blade and was stopped short as a painful sting in the back of her right shoulder made her face the others, her head turned she could see the bow, no arrow on it's string. “Oh.” Hecate thought as she turned her head and looked down. A barbed arrow had ripped through her breast, the jagged edges of the arrowhead had turned her pale flesh into little more than glorified ground meat.

Her blade seemed to slip from her hand as she struggled to keep hold on it's decorated handle. Still she had her other sword. She moved her arms down to grip at the blade. When it barely budged she wondered why. Turning her head once more she looked at the wounded elf, her hands had forsaken the longsword and now gripped Hecate's swords with equal ferocity.

The second of her swords, now in the hands of her prey, came down in a slightly off horizontal slash biting into Hecate's midriff. The icy blade didn't hurt as much as she had expected, even so pain gripped at her mind as a third strike came in from behind.

The thick spearhead erupted from the slash wound, spraying hecate with her own viscera as she fell to the ground, she felt it sweet sweet agony. Her smile seemed to fade ever so slightly as the elves surrounded her. Feet slammed into her head in a rain of blows, her mind clouded over with each strike.

She closed her eyes for a moment without wanting to…

Somehow she had awoken, and now sat covered in wet clothing, the putrid scent of urine seemed to fill her nostrils as she lifted her head up and gazed down at her mangled body. She winced, as she struggled to move even her legs. She knew she had lost control of her body when it failed to heed her call. Even now her fingers danced around in the blood leaving her body. “Where are they?” She asked weakly as her eyes closed again for even just a moment. She was losing the power to maintain cognitive thought. Even the simplest of words seemed to be foreign to her as she moved her right arm down clumsily and scooped out one of the the small ruby adorned flasks from her thigh pouch, she struggled to press the cold crystal to her flesh. Crimson fluid slowly dribbled into it, filling it up to the tip.

Hecate struggled to slide the small vial back into its slot in her pouch, sighing as she finally achieved her goal. Her body began to convulse violently, as it went into shock and she moaned out loud, with near orgasmic pleasure as she finally closed her eyes once more.

[Hecate Rothchild]

Hecate opened her eyes once more, this time pain racked her body as she attempted to rub her stomach. She heard the familiar sound of metal clinking together as she felt pressure apply to her wrist. "This again?" she said with slight irritation in her voice. Her eyes took some time to adjust to the new lighting, and her body was still heavy from blood loss. Her wounds had been hastily stitched closed and coated with a paste of some kind. Yes she was a captive, once more. "Ironic." Hecate's voice carried far in the dark, it’s nonchalant sound drew who she assumed was her captor towards her.

"Do ye know why ye are here?" The Elven man spoke with a mocking tone as he watched the silver haired maiden hang limp from chains.

Hecate smiled with cruel intent at the man who was used to this kind of treatment

“You primes all think that you can just do as you desire, without any consequence. Well whoever you are… your reign of terror ends now.” The elf spoke with authority in defiance of her attitude

Hecate held her head high against the weight her condition gave her, the stitching on her midsection stretched against her as she twisted her body to glare hatefully at the man.

“You underestimate me..” She hissed back vennom spilling out with every word. Even in her weakened condition the fire and lust that filled Hecate’s dark side was evident. “You will make a great addition to my trophies…” Her voice echoed in the dungeon.

The elven guard just smiled in reply waiting for her to finish. “You know, you primes can come back to life. That is why you will not be executed, instead I want you to understand this, for the next thousand years you shall sit in this dungeon, rotting. Never to see the light of day again. So please, by all means keep your resolve, I can't wait to see what happens once you snap like the worm you are.” The guard said as he pulled the torch from the wall and left without waiting for a reply from his prisoner.

The sound of the dungeon door closing was the last thing Hecate heard from the guard.

“It's a fine mess you've gotten us into isnt it.” She heard herself whisper.

“Oh shut up you, it's better than hearing you dole on about chess, yeah stupid fucking chess.” The reply slipped out of her mouth.

“At least I didn't nearly get us killed.” the docile side whispered again.

“Keep fucking talking and I can make sure I change that.” Dark Hecate spat out, ire filling her words.
Hecate knew she needed to keep her strength up especially knowing what was coming, it only made sense. Closing her eyes she left her body dangle in the chains, the thick iron shackles bit into her wrists as she attempted to sleep.

Cold water rushed her back into focus as it splashed over her body drenching her tattered bloodstained uniform. Her blood red eyes opened up and stared into the light of another torch. The same guard as before stood before her, an empty pitcher in hand.

“Looks like you've wasted your water for the day, too bad.” He said with a sneer as he looked at her.

Hecate knew getting pissed off at the man would make her feel better now but in the long run she needed to make sure she stayed as low key as she could.

She closed her eyes once more as she once again went limp, the shackles again bit into her wrists, she could feel the iron already rubbing her skin off. It wouldn't take very long for the blood to begin to flow from the sores. Either way eventually they would have to take her down. And when they did, they would rue ever crossing her path. A thin smile crossed Hecate’s face as she once again forced herself to sleep.

The second day was not any easier, there was a gnawing feeling in Hecate’s insides as hunger began to set in, Apart from the water that had jarred her awake the first time, the guard had not yet returned. Her eyes had adjusted to the light in the dungeon, a small crack in between the door and the stones making up the floor gave just enough light to illuminate the room.

It was a fairly standard dungeon, chains other restraints seemed to be scattered with very little regard for the space, in fact the very lack of cohesion seemed to trigger Hecate’s anger. Pain in her wrist stopped her from thrashing around any further. Almost as if beckoned by the sound of the chains, the guard opened the thick wooden door, Hecate stole a glance down the wood lined hallway, the guard in charge of her had very little in common with the sentry that her and the boy had captured.

“I hope they haven't found him.” She thought to herself as the idea of the elf wasting away in the same exact predicament brought a laugh up from the darkest parts of her soul.

The guard presented her the pitcher of water forcefully pouring it down her face, Hecate struggled to gulp down two mouthfuls of the cold water as it washed down the front of her uniform. The guard didn't waste any time to talk to her, and to be quite honest she had already had enough of his voice to last ten lifetimes.

Another day gone, Hecate was finding it harder and harder to sleep, her desire to spill blood was slowly taking hold on her, her anger and rage acting as catalysts for the crimson flow to follow.

Hecate once again was awoken by the guard, on the third day it was not water or words but the sting of a whip that opened her eyes. Her uniform padded her back from much of the blow,even still it hurt. The pain however only brought a smile to her face. “More” she said to the guard behind her, who did exactly as she asked bringing the wip down across her back with even more force, the leather strips bit into the cotton fabric of her uniform shredding it and leaving a deep gash across her back, Several more strikes followed suit leaving her pale flesh dripping red.

Heavy breathing filled the dungeon as the guard wrapped the long leather whip back up and strode out the room without saying a word. The whip lashes had hurt, but the sensation was one Hecate and long forgotten, one she almost missed.

The taste of iron filled Hecate’s mouth, an unfortunate side effect of the lashings she had just received, her internal injuries had not even begun to start healing, reopened by the force of each lash. Hecate swallowed down the metallic flavored fluid with a smile. Hoping for even more intense experiences yet to come.

She stayed awake all night waiting.

The guard did not show up, not for water not for any punishment to be dealt out. The silence was more irritating than anything. Even the other her was keeping quiet, content to let her suffer the result of her selfish actions.

Another day passed, dehydration slowly began to set in, Hecate’s lips were dry, her throat sore from the lack of hydration. This was a pain Dark Hecate did not enjoy, her insides grumbled, desiring food, needing food. “So much for not wanting me to die.” She whispered aloud as she closed her eyes yet again.

The sour scent of urine filled her nostrils once again, the guard was back. Hecate was glad to see someone, even the man she was going to rip apart.

The sound of bodily fluids mixing with the water in the pitcher was all that could be heard in the witches ears. “Still thirsty?” the guard asked, his expression one of victory as he offered the pitcher to Hecate's mouth. “Drink up murderer.” He said, his smile one of similar nature to her own. A clear challenge to her. “Not the first time I've gone thirsty, you pig.” She said weakly as she kept her mouth closed and turned her head down. The sound of ceramic on stone was audible as the guardsman set the putrid pitcher down. Malice filled his eyes as he stared her down, the scent of honeyed Mead on his breath. “Keep acting high and mighty you little bitch, you'll break… they always break.”

Hecate smiled knowingly. “Something can only break so much.”

[Hecate Rothchild]

Hecate awoke once again, her head was in a lul, she had had nothing but a single piece of moldy bread. How long had it been? Five? Six days? Everything was a blur already. Cracked lips bled every time she opened her mouth to offer a snarky comeback. Even the guards visits were less and less frequent. Still the feeling of aloneness did not sink in, her conversations with the other her took up nearly every waking moment.
Her wrists were both rubbed raw, muscle exposed to the harsh iron. Rust colored blood, long dried covered her arms as they hung from the chains suspended above her.

Her clothes had been destroyed, shredded by the multitude of devices that had already feasted upon her flesh.

Again the door opened filling the room with light for a mere moment. A slender figure blotted out the light, the shape a pale contrast to the larger more heavyset guard Hecate was used to.

"Who are you?" She found herself asking weakly. "who is even in control now?" She thought to herself, the distinction between the two personalities was blurred even more than her vision.

A haughty voice filled the stone dungeon as a blond haired stepped into the musky confines of the prison cell. “Your worst nightmare.”

Hecate winced as a resounding slap echoed off the walls. The stinging pain brought back a small smile to her disheveled face. “You've got to do better than that.” A hoarse reply came from dry vocal chords.

The wordless reply came swiftly as even in the darkness Hecate could see the glimmer of steel, her eyes waiting for the warm embrace of that steels loving touch. A forced fistfull of hair drew her head up exposing her vulnerable throat. “Come on!” The desperate cry found its way into being.

The short blade found its target as Hecate’s head went limp, the hold on her hair severed by the blade she clung so desperately for respite. Silver white hair fell to the muck covered ground

Hecate's hope dashed she hung her head, the hold on her chains loosened, unsteady she toppled to the floor.

“Food” the woman spoke finally the sounds of her boots on stone and the closing of the thick door, leaving only a silver tray in her wake.

The stress relieved on her shoulders was a comfort that even Dark Hecate enjoyed. The achy joints and constant gnawing in the pit of her, had really taken a toll on her. Even if she was unwilling to admit it.

The food had given her enough to regain her thoughts, the stale bread and water did just enough to help her regain enough clarity to put focus on the most important goal. Escape.

The same female guard came to visit the next day this time bringing with her a hot iron, the cruel red hot glow of the poker hungered for flesh, it was not starved. The lingering smell of burnt meat filled the poorly ventilated room, even then it made the hunger pains all the more worse.

The holes in her thighs burned, the poker had been used in a manner she had not expected, being forcefully pushed through the muscle of her upper legs. The ferocity and aggressive nature of how this new guard treated her put fire to Hecate's starved loins

She almost began to look forward to seeing the woman. Almost.

And just like that she stopped showing up, Hecate's heart hung, once again no one came, food and water became scarce again.

“Someone? Anyone?” She called out desperately hoping to draw the ire of a guard. The silence was deafening. “Please” she called out begging for someone to show up.

“Hello again little bitch!” A masculine voice spoke towing over her limp form. A heavy boot to the side followed by another. The jarring pain shook any clarity she possessed as the room spun around her. “Time to go. She felt tension on the chains binding her as the bulky guard began to pull, dragging her along as she lay on the stone.

As her focus came back she could see other doors, each presumably to another prison cell, shouts and curses came from some, others were dead quiet. Her side hurt, the flesh rubbed off from being dragged along the stone pathway. The sunlit doorway in the rapidly closing distance seemed like a fairy tale as she was dragged outside.

Leering faces filled with lust at her nearly naked form laced her vision as a dark realization hit her

These were not elves.

[Hecate Rothchild]

Her red eyes adjusted to the sunlight she realized with an almost frightening disparity. even if it was the Elves that held her chains these people and things were not bound by the same laws that the elves had.

Her hands clasped together, by the iron, still eating away at her flesh, the sting of stones striking. It was ecstatic to the maiden.

limping to her feet Hecate found herself the object of attention to a mob numbering in the hundreds.

"An auction? a show?" she pondered silently as she was led to a central dias. All eyes upon her as she was forced to her knees by another sharp blade to the thigh. A cheer rose from the crowd as they crowded in to get a close watch of the coming events.

Her chains were quickly looped into a pair of iron loops, spreading her arms into an uncomfortable position, her chin rested painfully on the clean wooden block.

There was no tell tale sound of an axe being sharpened, so it was clearly not an execution, at least not one in the guise of what she was used to.

A flash of steel unknown to her, a sword from behind. Sensation, burning agony. her right hand hit the wooden platform her eyes focused on the still moving fingers. Twitching as the final signals if information left the nerves. The chain holding her hand went limp, with nothing left to keep her arm from slipping out of it. Instinctively Hecate tucked the stump into her chest as blood poured from her wrist.

Pain racked Hecate’s mind bringing the blue eyed persona forward pushing the Dark hecate into the abyss of her mind. A whimped formed on her lips as she looked down at the bloody stump, unable to stem the flow of blood both from her new leg wound as well as the new wound. Hecate looked up

All she could see was red.

[Jak Mar]

The tangled greens, a place of old memories at least for the long eared eco warrior. The first time he came here, he met various primes, ones of varying importance. One that was gone and various others who disappeared over time.

However, it wasn’t long before there was a crowd gathered not far from where Jak was standing. These elves were odd, they were short-eared, and they were cheering as a almost innocent like lady was in the middle as she was being pushed down.

Jak frowned “What the hell is going on here!”

He wasn’t the type to rescue “Innocent” Ladies, but he wasn’t the best judge of character. He’s worked with mob types such as Krew to the Governess of Haven City, Ashelin.

What else was new?

It’s not like she was “some damsel-in-distress” Hallucination, right?

[Hecate Rothchild]

A rage unlike the likes of any she had ever experienced took hold, the omnilium in the tattered remains of her uniform glowed with ferocity. A spear taking shape in her remaining hand. The crowd had seemed to ignore the weapon, opting to charge for the newly severed hand.

Every neuron in her body screamed as she pulled against the remaining chain holding her down, blood slicked against the tight iron shackles, her muscles screamed against the iron bindings. Flesh tore as her hand slipped through the locked restraint. The sound of wood hitting stone seemed to echo louder than the roar of the crowd. Blood sprayed over the wood as two speartips erupted from flesh. Hecate stood, the wooden shaft of a spear piercing her lower abdomen, the person holding slumped lifelessly to the dias, her red spear through the base of his neck.

Slowly her face turned to face the crowd, blood already trickling down her chin. The telltale sign of a bad injury, the taste or iron, Hecate disregarded all of it, using her stump to painfully steady herself she used her left hand to pull the spear out of the elves throat, the gurgling sounds of his lungs filling with crimson of his own as his blank eyes glassed over, his body twitching one last time.

The crowd had begun to disperse, a show that could fight back was a danger to them all.

Arrows whizzed through the air at the young girl.

[Jak Mar]

Jak didn't know who he felt worse for, the bleeding female with one hand missing or the various elves being killed one by one.

Seems like this lady could handle herself at the moment.

But Hecate would have another chance, as Jak turned, gritting his teeth as a angelish form surrounded him. "COME ON!"

He grabbed Hecate and hoped he was doing the right thing for once.

[Hecate Rothchild]

Hecate winced in pain as she was pulled off of the dias by an unknown person, no an elf of some form. The sounds of arrows penetrating wood could be heard through the sounds of the rushing crowds. Her body was under immense strain as she struggled to keep her grip on her bloodslicked spear. “Who are you?” She managed to ask as she was led away from the torture device.

Her eyes struggled to stay open, they seemed to be playing tricks on her, a faint glow was surrounding the person who had just saved her from being pumped full of arrows. Now they were running from the elves was already proving to be a challenge as arrows struck trees around the pair.

Another wince of pain as another arrow struck her back I'm bedding itself into her delicate flesh.

Her newly formed spear had been one wrought of desperation, and hatred. The feeling of the other her was gone, the darkness was no more instead she knew she was still one with that darkness.

When there was no reply she gazed over him with darkening eyes right as she slumped to the ground.

[Jak Mar]

Light Jak didn't say much but blinked "Mar saved you from a unfortunate fate."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you further, stranger."

He lifted her up and flew up into the air toward another far place in the tangled greens.

[Hecate Rothchild]

Hecate's mind swam in darkness, specs of light drifted before her just out of reach.

"Mar saved you." She I could hear the distant words but could not make out the source. The comforting words trailed off into nothingness.

"Who is Mar?" Her mind questioned, she wasn't sure if the words made thire way into her mouth, but even now in the crushing depths of unconsciousness the fact she heard these words meant she was still alive.

Light as a feather. The feeling of weightlessnes jarred her eyes open. "Wha?" She questioned weakly as she wrapped her fingers tightly on her rescuer. The schock of feeling her fingers but not having a hand was a perplexing situation.

Her body felt cold, whether it was from the cold air rushing as they soared through the air or the lack of clothing she now possessed she could not tell.

The rushing trees below the fair rushed by, how long had they been flying? How do humans fly? The questions seemed to flow freely in her mind even is she lacked the strength to speak them.

[Jak Mar]

Light Jak’s wings floated in the air as they kept going and the angelic form of Jak kept going and said
“Mar? He’s me.”

“Apologies, I’m his Light form.”

The strange female with one hand woke up, mostly held tightly to the man’s arm.

“It’s a long story, I’m sure Jak can explain later.”

“Shit, we should get you some -uh clothes.”

[Hecate Rothchild]

Hecate released the grasp on her spear, the crimson weapon and flag plummeted towards the ground, unwrapping the flag as it fell.
"Ironic." she muttered as it vanished in the underbrush.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked as she finally looked at her guardian with eyes wide open. The man's coloration was not what she had expected, a seeming ethereal glow covered the man like a cloak. His ears were far longer than any elf she had seen thus far. "An outcast?" she asked aloud unsure if such a term would be offensive or not.

even now the blood from her wounds had seemed to cease bleeding, this of course didn't take away from the fact there was still multiple holes in her body, but for the time being she was stable.

The man who held her seemed to have an inclination to where he was taking her, still not knowing where they were flying to was cause for more concern than the nature of the wounds she currently possessed.

[Jak Mar]

Light Jak turned at the stranger's question, or was it more like a word and noticed that the woman was staring at his long ears.

"Not a outcast.. Everyone in my world has long ears. It's natural to me."

The eco warrior set foot farther out away. "We should be safe for now."

The ethereal form faded and in its place, stood Jak himself.

Decorated in armor, cut tunic and a red scarf, and weapons on his back, he nodded.

"Hopefully we'll be alright around here." The blondish green haired man said, looking over at Hecate.