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Needed information: This is a freewrite scene from the life story of my character Sira Nightfyre. In here she is a teenager, still in training with her assassin corporation. She is being held as a prisoner of war, and her mentors Aeydan (vampyr) and Nakavi (shapeshifter) have come to her rescue. Sira's age here is thirteen, and the POV is that of Aeydan.


"Shut up already, Nakavi. This is serious; I can smell blood."

"I know it's serious," the shapeshifter hisses back at me, his eyes shimmering in the darkness. He doesn't have the tapetum lucidum that I do, but his eyes shine just the same. I know that he understands what's going on, but his emotion makes me want to smack him.

I can't worry about that. I know who the blood I smell belongs to. Sira. I refrain from snarling as the slight tinge of infection in the blood wafts to my nostrils. All the same, my fangs lengthen with fury, taking off down the dungeon hallway. Nakavi and I have already taken out the guards here, but he watches behind us anyway as I stalk forth, closer to the origin of the blood-scent.

She whimpers as we approach. Her back is to us, exposing the wounds there to the cold air.

I choke.

She looks terrible. She's been stripped naked, emaciated and covered in so much blood... There are marks from repeated lashings on her pale skin, and most of the wounds are open and infected...

But that's not what brings me to the killing edge.

On the naked Werecat's back, a single word has been carved into her flesh.


Once more I have to force myself not to snarl, taking a small lock-picking set from my pocket and opening the door to her cell.

Nakavi is less calm than I'm pretending to be. His eyes are red like my own, and vicious claws are growing on his fingers and bare feet.

"I'll kill them." he growls, looking away from Sira and to myself. 'I'll fucking kill them all."

"Get in line," I answer, stopping into the small room with the young girl I've come to know so well. She whimpers again.


She turns to look up at me, wincing in pain as the movement causes blood to ooze from her wounds. Her tapetum lucidum gleam back at me as I kneel in front of her.

"We're getting you out of here." My voice breaks partway into a growl as I speak, and she shrinks closer to me as Nakavi moves and strokes her head gently.

I'll kill each and every one of them who has hurt her. I'll make them beg for death for what they did to my partner and friend.

I pick her up gingerly, trying my best not to harm her, but despite my efforts a pained cry leaves her. Despite the blood covering her and the strong scent of it everywhere, I press her to my chest and stride from the room.

No. I can't kill them. That takes time. Time that we need to get Sira back to headquarters and treated. Time that could mean her death if wasted.

I bite back another snarl and walk back up the hall the way we came from.

Nakavi could carry her out while I do it, though. Nakavi could get Sira out while I took out anyone and everyone in the damned building.

No. She needs me to be there for her.

I keep that single thought in my head as we make the journey back home. It's not as far as one might think, but to me it feels like a walk of a thousand miles. Over lava and glass.

She needs me.


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Let's Get One Thing Straight: I'm Not.

October 2013

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