She waved her hand through the smoke, and the shapes changed.
Do you remember the man in black who took your curse? She grinned wider.
Do you remember what he did? Blood, Grayell. Blood. Your blood. Your blood did it.
Grayell saw a vision he knew all too well. Liseth's face suddenly turned to anger.
Instead of overcoming the beast, being stronger than it, you took the easy way out. And they paid the price. A woman's face, hand outstretched. He heard a voice from his past. Grayell!
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell's head was looking at the ground. He trembled inside, haunting memories that had robbed him of too many nights fought with an unbridled rage, a need to kill. And Liseth, for all her manipulations and all her toying, was in the line of fire. He wanted to reach out and snap her neck. He wanted to tear her heart from her chest and crush it, stomp her ragged body into the mud, to spit in her face as he tore her arms from her. His mind wished such inconceivable horrors upon her - but he did none of these.
Grayell had to force his jaw to move. His words came slowly, but as they did it reeled him into reality and his eyes, cold steel eyes; stared her down. There was no warmth, no compassion, no feeling nor even so much as a fleeting care. They were dead, dead and empty.
I warned you Liseth. I warned you about everything, then and now. But you've changed. You've become a toy, a play thing and worst of all - you've been domesticated to amount to nothing other than a lap dog. A sadistic bitch who licks her master's palm. You were proud once and rightfully so. You were even human once.
Now.... well now you're a flarbing joke. Flarb you and the horse you rode in on bitch.
Grayell turned and slowly walked away, sheathing his blade and not so much as daring to look back. Flarb what she thought. She'd be pissed, beyond pissed.
You think I'm doing this on his orders? You think he knows where you are? And do you think, when I found out, that I would tell him and let him send his halfbreed mongrels after you to ruin my fun? She climbed up onto the casket.
This is me. This is my doing. As far as he knows I'm hunting game. He's a moron, and you know it. It was only a matter of time before someone tore out his throat and took over the pack. I was hoping it would be you, but now it looks like it's going to be me. And right now...I'm just tying up loose ends. Goodbye, Grayell. I did once love you. When you were a monster.
She roared and charged at him, a solid wall of fur and fang and fury.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
He could draw his sword. She's been set off. He could look to lop her head off, cleave her from neck to navel. He could use his might, wrestle her, kick her or even lash out and beat on her skul with his bare hands.
But Liseth was a monster he'd helped make. He would never tell her, but he hated himself for that. Regardless of how removed from the act he was, it all came back to him. Another life ruined by his curse.
Perhaps this was right. Perhaps then, should she kill her master; then the mongrel pack he commanded would just fall into a quarrel, be less of a threat. But he knew he would then take ownership for that too.
The fact was, Liseth didn't know him anymore. Grayell knew her too well, and that is why his heart was heavy, why he simply hadn't the commitment to follow through and kill her. She was more than this, beautiful once, graceful and daring. She was a kindred spirit, some respite in his miserable life. She would not know, but Grayell held onto those good times, the fond memories he had of them together. He had remained in stubbornly self induced denial that she were no longer the lover he knew so many moons ago.
But he wouldn't let her think otherwise. He had not spoken the words, he would not do that to himself - but he simply wouldn't end it this way. She could have her ignorance, but it wouldn't be by his doing.
He had almost reached the gate - almost. She came upon him, a savage maelstrom of death and release. This was the crucial moment, the moment when it was done. A finite ending to a tragic story.
He did nothing. He did not turn to greet her charge. His weapon stayed put, his hands at his sides. There was no physical motion, not a hint of resistance. As the nightmare known as Liseth slavered for his throat and was poised to take it with ease, he only spoke.
She barreled into him again, knocking him to the ground, her claws against his neck, drawing blood. Wild and frenzied, she glared down at him.
Fight me. Fight me, damn you.
She glared at him silently for a moment, then growled and picked him up by his neck, throwing him against a headstone.
Where. Is. Grayell? I don't need your forgiveness, you disgusting little worm. I may have changed, but you changed more. You got soft. You got human. She put a foot on his chest, pressing down hard.
Fight me. I will not kill you if you don't show me that you still hold the beast inside. Fight me.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell sneered, blood stringing through his teeth and smearing his lips. He coughed, red spittle rushing out of his lungs and onto his chest. He lay there, un-moving. He stared at her as she barked her demands, wanting him to fight back. She needed him to lash out. His ribs cracked and it tore a yelp from him, a pang of pain that died off in a growl. For a moment, his teeth were bare and hungry.
But he looked up, sighed and then laughed.
Yep, tell yourself that. ALL human.
Another pop of his ribs, harder than the last and it stopped his breath. He swallowed, swallowed hard and gasped, that desperate drag of air taking a moment to have any effect. He spat blood and shook his head in defiance.
No. You won't do it. And you know what that is?
Another cough, ragged and harsh. His voice strained, wheezing.
That - that is being human Liseth. You can't run from it. Run from everything else, run from me... but you can't escape it either.
If I..
A groan, his head shooting back. Something else had torn and his left arm was suddenly stabbed with pain. He hissed, bit his lip to bite back the pain.
If I am so damn weak, then do it. Finish it. Just take it back. Take it all back. What we had was a damn joke to you. I've been worse than human. I've been a fool to think you ever cared....
Liseth glared down at him for a moment. Then stepped off, growling.
No. I won't kill you. I know you used to be someone I loved. If you won't change voluntarily, we'll make you. But not now. She got on her knees and shifted back into her human form, leaning over Grayell, her face close to his.
Once I kill the blood mage I'll come back for you. Then you'll have no choice. She kissed him, gingerly, quickly, and got up.
I'll see you once you accept who you are, Grayell. I'm letting you live because of what we did have. But only once.
She turned and walked away, into the fog.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell groaned as he rolled to his side. His hand pressed into the dirt and he looked, eyes following where she had gone. His yell hacked blood through his throat but it was commanding all the same.
Grayell stumbles as he gets to his legs. He coughs, but grins as blood dribbled past his lips and spatters on the dirt. He slowly stands erect and his hands, bunched into fists, come to his front.
I do. I'm calling you out. We played your game, now you play mine. You're real tough kitten, fur and fangs and all.
But I remember when we used to spar. As I recall, I taught you everything you know. I wanna see if you've gotten better.
Grayell's grin flashed into a twisted smile and his eyes shone brighter suddenly. It had to be the moon. He rolled his neck, spat on the ground and reached out a hand. His fingers waved her in.
Sweetheart, you don't get to trample on me twice. Put em up.
She was going to be faster than him, even in his younger years. The blood did that to you. Blood he wouldn't use yet. She started out as he taught her though, poking at her prey. Forcing a reaction.
Good girl...
Grayell bounced to his right and swatted her arm away with his left, his arm now circling casually and lazily floating in front of him. It had been too long, but the muscle memory was still there. Deep.
His feet scuffled back, keeping him light and then with a thump, planted to the ground. Dust puffed from around him and his hands pulled in toward his chest, hand open. Eyes locked on her, 6 feet off his shoulder now he pivoted. A rush of hair flowed through his pursed lips and his shoulders swayed to side, foot twisting and his knees folding to bring his stance down.
She snarled, darting at him again, her right hand going low this time while her left tried to grab his throat again. Old habits died hard, and her claws came out a little even though she tried to stop herself.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.