By First Lady of Nosgoth
Told through the eyes of Vorador
Told through the eyes of Vorador
Their screams gave me pleasure. A steady wave of satisfaction rose up to meet me, as I watched them struggle in vain for their wretched lives. A dozen men were bound to the walls by heavy iron chains. Rusted hooks and sharp blades twisted into their fragile flesh, tearing the skin away from the bone. Blood spilled from their bodies and rained down the stone floor beneath them. The scent of their life blood wafted toward me, tempting my hunger. But I would not feed off these men. No... feeding would be too easy a death for them. They deserved far worse. I would make them endure unbearable pain before death came for them. Their long, slow torture would be my revenge. The room was dark, save for one window high above that let in only enough light for them to see their instruments of torture. I wanted them to watch their own impending deaths approach and feel the terror that accompanied it. I strode toward one man, the so-called leader of this pathetic herd of cattle, and watched fear and pain etch across his face. Good, I thought as I bent down to watch the dark emotion grow in his eyes. Fear me. Feel the terror engulf you. Feel the same agony, you put her through… the same suffering she felt.... I drew back for an instant. The thought of her struggling, suffering, cut deep in my heart. My heart…so it’s still there. And I thought it had died the moment she had died…no…that would have been too easy. No, fate was not that kind. It would have me suffer for an eternity…an eternity spent in mourning. Sudden anger seized my body. She didn’t deserve to die. Not like that. Not hunted down like some vile creature. They thought her a demon. But her soul was more pure than any mortals could possible be. How could they rip her away from me like that? It shouldn’t have been her lying there, brutally impaled with scorched flesh. Oh, why was I not there to save her from these callous fiends…why did I let this happen to her…why was I not there…. My eyes snapped back to my victim. “You soulless beast! How dare you put your hands on her!” Rage surged through me. In one swift movement, I thrust my hand forward, clutched the coward’s throat and tore out his jugular. Blood gurgled out of his wound as the man tried to scream. It brought me great satisfaction to watch the life ooze out of him. I still held the piece of his flesh in my hand. I let it drop to the floor, as my perverse laughter flooded the room. This picture of gruesome perfection would serve to quell my grief. Or at least that is what I would lead myself to believe. The soul can be tricked into such things when filled with sorrow; anything to stop the misery. But in the deep recesses of my mind I knew this relief was only temporary. There was nothing that could truly sooth my grieving soul. The image of her lifeless body, cruelly burned by human torches and torn at by human spears, could not be eased by revenge. That image would haunt me forever. Or perhaps, it wouldn’t be the memory of her death that would truly pain me, but the memories of her life. How gentle her hands felt in mine. How her dark hair danced against her pale cheeks. How it felt to hold her in my arms, the warmth radiating from within her…to know that it would be alright to face immortality as long as she was with me. For one brief instant, the memory of her beautiful, smiling face flickered before me and then faded. Cold reality swept up to meet me. I would never again see her visage. I would never again hear her soft voice… I would never again hold her…How could I possibly face this existence without her? “Fiends,” I sneered at the chained men before me. “You took her from me! You pathetic human cattle, your righteous quest to rid Nosgoth of evil is a travesty. You mercilessly slay anything with a set of fangs. You are the true evil set upon this land!” I moved toward the next man, his face covered in sweat from the pain of the blades. Viciously, I twisted the hooks in deeper, listening to him cry out in agony. Smiling grimly, I made a promise to myself. I would never stop seeking vengeance. Not just for her, but for the countless others of my kind that fell prey to the cruelty of humans. And for that purpose, this room would always exist. For centuries to come, the sound of terror and agony will always fill this room. After all, the humans always thought we were wicked…perhaps it was time to put a hint of truth to their assumption. -
By First Lady of Nosgoth ©April 2006
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