There was a fire crackling merrily away in the hearth. The two young women had just washed up for bed and were sipping some tea in the warm glow of the fireplace. Outside a fierce wind howled, the heavy snow slashing at the windows of the shaking little cottage. Fitting enough weather that made the night deeper and darker, all it did was serve to heighten their uneasiness.

  "Of all the damned nights for a blizzard," Esha murmured nervously. "What if the guards had to call it a day before they had a chance to check up on us?"

  Alia shook her head and scoffed, "Do you believe the duke is just willing to leave killers on the loose because of a little snow? How do you think the public would view such a shortcoming? The guards will come.”

  She seemed certain. So certain that Esha visibly relaxed. If the ever-worrying Alia wasn't scared, she shouldn't be either. She reached over to pet Rajan, who was napping on the couch next to her. The little mutt had become a reliable friend and Esha was thankful to have him. He opened his eyes drowsily and gave his tail a few good thwacks before appearing to drift back off to sleep.

  Soon, all three had fallen asleep. Too nervous to actually retire to their separate rooms, the sisters had cuddled up together on the sofa.

  Alia was having a terrible dream. She was running through the dense thicket of the forest. Thorns scratched at her tearing her clothing and lacerating the skin underneath. She could feel those terrible eyes chasing her. Soft, ominous chuckling emanated through the darkness surrounding her panicked flight. Mocking her. She fell and landed hard on her shoulder, she gasped in pain and began to weep in terror. Glowing yellow eyes loomed above her, and a hand with nails as sharp as a knife tore through the black and began for her neck-

  She awoke to loud knocking and Rajan’s soft growling. Esha sat up blinking. The two jumped as the beating on the door was repeated.

  "Must be the guard," Alia mumbled, still half asleep.

  Rajan took a low defensive stance and continued to growl as the tuft of hair on his back rose up bristling like little spikes. "It's ok boy," Alia began soothingly. "It's just the guards."

  "Alia," Esha began, uncertainly. "Stop. Maybe we shouldn't answer it."

  Rajan began to snarl, baring his tiny but sharp teeth. Instead of charging the door, he was backing away from it.

  The knocking continued after a short pause. Loud and insistent. The door frame shook.

  Alia frowned and flung the door open to...nothing. No one stood out on the porch. There was only the swirling snow. She stared blankly, not comprehending. No traces of footprints in the snow either.

  "Alia! Close it!" Esha wailed, frightened.

  Loud knocking on the back door now. Alia jumped and screamed. Esha fled to her room. Alia slammed the front door and bolted it. Her heart was hammering now, threatening to tear through her chest if she didn’t calm down. She raced to the kitchen and grabbed a large butcher's knife from a wooden block and held it out in front of her shakily as she rushed to the back door. That thunderous bombardment on the back door began again, it startled her. She would have surely dropped the blade had she not had such a death grip on the handle.

  Gods above, what was happening?

  She took a deep breath, mustering every bit of courage, and flung the back door open, slicing blindly at the air with her paltry weapon. Again, no one was there. She darted her eyes around wildly, trying to see in the blinding storm.

  That horrible feeling was thick in the air again. As if the creature had followed her out of her dream and into the waking world. Alia slammed the kitchen door shut and locked it. Just as it clicked into place, the door was battered again, this time with enough force to burst open and knock the young woman back violently against the wall. She lost the knife and slid to the ground in a daze.

  "Was your intention to protect your homestead with that laughable excuse for a weapon, woman? How utterly adorable." The voice was deep and tinged with amused contempt.

  Alia attempted to scramble to her feet but before she could a vicious hand entangled itself in her long chestnut hair and brutally yanked her upwards. Instant fiery agony exploded in her scalp as this animal lifted her off the ground by her hair. She dangled in front of him helplessly as her hands punched against her captor's barrel chest.

  "Pitiful. Little human females are so weak. Look at you just hanging there. I could easily gut you with my free hand and watch as you bleed out in front of me. I’ve always been fascinated with how red human blood is." He tightened his grip and gave Alia an effortless shake. He laughed as she squealed in pain as she felt a few hairs rip from their moorings.

  The tall being pulled Alia’s face to his. She kept her eyes closed but she could feel his hot breath on her freezing skin. He pulled her hair again, the pain forcing her eyes open. He gave her a chilling grin, revealing sharp incisors and canines. "That was a lovely sound, human. Music to my ears. Please repeat it," he gave her another shake to elicit another scream and she obliged as she felt even more hair tear out.

  He appeared delighted, beaming at her agony. "Tantalizing, but I haven't the time nor luxury to play any longer." He dropped her and drew an almost ridiculously large sword from a sheath attached to his back.

  Alia's blood ran cold as she clutched her injured head. Strangely, her first thoughts were if the brute could even wield that heavy-looking blade with any precision at all. It didn't look like anyone could lift it easily, let alone utilize it with any skill. Her silent question was answered when he deftly flipped it around in his hand and slammed the flat of it into the side of her head.

  Darkness.

  "Alia," a voice whispered. Something nudged her rudely in her tender ribs. She mumbled grumpily and tried to escape back into unconsciousness where her pain was dulled. She couldn’t remember why she didn't want to wake up, only that it was in her favor not to.

  "You can't fool me, pretty little wretched human. Leave those dreams behind and wake into your nightmare," something about that voice was hauntingly familiar. Like she knew it but only from recently. One thing was certain, it was a voice to fear.

  Against her will things became less hazy and more acute. Like the intense pain in her head and hands. She tried to shift her body, to release some of the pressure off of her aching hands but found she was unable. Confused, she finally opened her eyes and looked around blearily. She was still in the cottage lying on the sofa, with her hands and arms bound tightly behind her back. Her feet weren't tied, but she didn't figure she could get very far. Not with the demon hovering over her.

  He grinned, pleased. "There you are! Rise and shine, human." He pinched her cheek savagely and she let out another pained moan as his nails dug into her. "You really must stop those noises, you know," he began cheerily, "As much as I enjoy hearing your kind weep and beg, much needs to be done before this wonderful dark night is through," he said with a mocking chuckle, the very same one she'd heard in the trees weeks ago. "Odd isn't it? Normally, I kill your disgusting kind on sight. Never so much as uttered more than a few words to your species until just recently. Now, ironically, I am in need of your services, human."

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  Alia glowered up at him, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The being was nothing like she'd ever witnessed. Tall and muscled, dressed in savage-looking armor and adorned with weaponry so horrible that she couldn't even imagine what their uses might be. Dark blue hair grew draped his shoulder narrowly covering his pointed ears. Flawless red skin almost shone it was so smooth, and his eyebrows slanted up, giving him a feral appearance. His eyes were a sinister swirling orangey-yellow. Piercing and filled with a bright alien intelligence.

  Horrible beauty. Cruel good nature. Somehow, these conflicting phrases jumped into her mind and described him perfectly. Was this who Esha had seen-

  Esha...

  "Where's Esha? What have you done with my little sister?" She attempted to sit up and was rewarded with a rough slap to the face. She fell back, whimpering once again.

  "That was nothing, woman. I could make you sing with agony if I so chose to," his tone was as cold as the blizzard raging outside.

  He studied her with cool interest for a long moment, head tilted thoughtfully. Then the jolly expression returned once more, "So then, lesson learned? Shut your fucking mouth unless asked a direct question, yes? Yes. Good then! Onward we press."

  He's batshit crazy, Alia thought. She pressed herself into the couch, attempting to make herself as small as possible.

  The creature cocked his head to the side again, examining her behavior with intense curiosity.

  "You and I are going to have so much fun, I think," he said softly, that wicked grin spreading across his mouth once more.

  She didn't reply, only trying to cringe back into the cushions even more. He crouched in front of her, eye to eye, and shoved an ancient-looking scroll in front of her face. She jerked her head, startled by the sudden movement, then squinted at it, confused. It looked like the alphabet that she had learned growing up - the characters were the same - but other than that, it appeared to be nothing but a jumble of nonsense words.

  "Translate this, human," he said, amicably.

  His countenance suggested he was at ease. As if he knew he'd be able to get her to tell him whatever he wished, yet his posture was dominating and direct. She gathered that this information was why she was still alive.

  "I c-can't read th-th-" she began, stuttering in terror.

  Instantly, a dark menacing expression replaced the casual patience, "Don't toy with me, girl. This is written in your barbaric language. You will translate it for me." He shoved the paper even closer and a low, ominous rumbling issued from deep within his chest.

  Alia became even more afraid, if that was at all possible. He wanted something she could not give him. The most she could attempt to do was read aloud the impossible sentences. She figured that was hardly what he meant. He wanted to know what they said, not how they sounded. How would he react when she denied him again?

  "Please, listen. I-I don't know what it says! Those a-are our letters but th-they aren't arranged like any words I've ever seen. It's just gibberish!" Her tone was pleading, begging him to believe her.

  Irritably, he snatched the scroll away and glared at her intently. His eyes seemed to brighten momentarily before returning to their original hue. For several long minutes they gazed at one another, neither moving. He seemed to be mulling something over as he searched her face. Finally, he sat back on his haunches and gave her a cagey grin. The sight of it sent shivers down her spine and a cold, hollow feeling began to grow in her belly.

  "That worthless, screaming old fool told me the exact same thing the other evening. Perhaps the old wretch was telling me the truth after all. Shame. I could have saved myself much needless effort. It wasn't a total loss, though. I did get to take my time with the old man, he served as an educational tool. Now, I have an intimate understanding of human anatomy and basic inner workings. Very informative, and such vibrant colors," he spoke in an off-hand way, but his sharp scrutiny of her face never wavered.

  His words were terrible, and her horror was apparent as her features paled further. "Y-you? You killed farmer Baajee? W-why-" She uttered a frightened yelp as he leaned in suddenly, with horrifying, fluid speed.

  "Did I not just tell you? Speak only when asked," he hissed, the tip of his nose almost touching hers.

  He slowly drew a knife from one of the many he wore. It was a long, curving serrated blade that ended in a barbed hook. Alia's terror-filled eyes flickered to dried smears of blood clinging to the silver blade. It looked like an instrument made for dealing as much pain as possible.

  "The old man wasn’t too fond of it, but it’s one of my favorites," he said, glancing at the blade fondly.

  Leaning back, he ran his thumb across the sharp edge and opened up a thin cut without wincing. She watched with detached amazement as an emerald liquid welled up along the surface of the gash. She dimly recalled his earlier statement about having some fascination with red human blood. At least it explained one thing in this chaotic turn of events.

  "Observe," he went on. "You see that talon on the end there? It's designed to ensure that when the blade is retrieved more comes out than what went in."

  He paused, giving her a moment to visualize his statement. The woman's eyes had not left the weapon. Good. That was exactly where he wanted them. He slowly, deliberately inched the point of it closer to her stomach until she could feel a painful pressure.

  "It'd be a pity, we've only just met face to face and all, but please believe me when I tell you that I can make your insides become your outsides very quickly. My time in this nasty little hovel is up, and I am out of patience. Now if we understand each other I'll ask you once more, what does this scroll say?"

  Tears began to stream down her cheeks at this point, certain that he intended on torturing her to death for something she honestly couldn't tell him. She said nothing, only shut her eyes and turned her head away, unwilling to witness her own disemboweling. Issuing one hopeless sob, she began to weep silently into the couch cushions. She would die here unable to protect Esha, not knowing what became of her precious sister. This stopped him briefly, and he tilted his head once again to study her.

  "Why do you do that?"

  Bewildered, she dared to glance up at him again. Her breath staggered, "d-do wha-what?"

  He reached out, raked his free hand across the wetness on her cheeks, and showed her. "This. Why do your eyes leak? The old male human's eyes did the same thing when I began my interrogation of him. Every human seems to do this before they die at my feet."

  Her brow furrowed as she struggled to keep up with this erratic exchange, "because I'm s-scared and upset. All humans c-cry."

  "Fear and distress causes water to dribble from your eyes? A naturally built-in function that hinders one’s vision? Ridiculous. It's nothing less than a miracle that your species has managed to become so widespread and successful. How did you weak pitiful creatures survive all these centuries and come to dominate the known world."

  She only stared at him in amazement. He spoke her language flawlessly, without even a trace of an accent. Yet, he seemed to know very little else about her kind, it made no sense. None. Alia gulped and licked her lips nervously, tasting salty tears.

  He seemed interested in this simple gesture as well. Without warning, he withdrew the blade, sheathed it, then leaned in again and dragged a rather pointed tongue across her lips and up her cheek. Astonished, her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew bigger as she unabashedly stared at him. She wished she was able to wipe his saliva from her skin, she could feel the trail it had left. Warm at first, then cooling and drying on her cheek. Even so, she managed to control the shudder of revulsion that threatened to rip through her. Barely.

  He sat back once again, expression appraising. "This 'cry' tastes of salt. Salt water is produced from your eyes? So does it sting you as well?"

  Still shocked, she nodded silently, swallowing again. "Not usually, bu-but it c-can."

  He sneered and shook his head, rising. "You are indeed built for failure, aren't you," he spat, tone thick with mockery. "And yet you flourish. Unbelievable."

  His hand flashed out and took hold of the front of her night shirt, jerking her to a standing position. She swayed, dizzy from the sudden change of elevation, then regained her balance. He gave her a shove towards the front door and she stumbled several steps in that direction.

  "Please," she began softly, hesitantly. "Where are you taking me? Where is my sister?" She fixed him with a beseeching gaze, mouth turned down unhappily.

  The creature considered the smaller female thoughtfully, a small smirk playing across his lips. "Your loud-mouthed, dark-haired kin is being held as collateral. Just in case I failed to get any useful information from you. Don't you fret now, tiny human. My brother is looking after her well-being until we join them." Not bothering to pause to use the knob, he kicked the front door open, shattering the frame and splintering it down the middle. He gave her a shove to get her moving, only having to catch her by the arms when she stumbled.

  "Can't even walk correctly," he muttered to himself. "I cannot wait until I am done with this vermin-infested place."

  He gave her another push into the cold, snowy night.