The corpse slumbers eternal before me, what life had once infested this flesh, had fled beyond reach. In death there is an eerie quiet, a stillness that draws in the darkness to shadow his features.

No longer can this man fear me, and no longer can he wrong me.

His blood now courses through my body, burning hot as a blazing fire, as it boils away in my veins, leaving behind traces of power that will remain with me.

It’s not unexpected and the difference from my past strength is not overly remarkable, but for one change. Whether through use and familiarity or through the blood I consumed, my vampiric strength now stays with me even without an aura of fear.

Ranking up to E from F, if I’m to trust the system written within the skillbook.

Beyond this, I should also be able to cast a small measure more vampiric magic before my veins burn and threaten to collapse. How many will I have to kill, and drink dry before I can be as strong as the red-eyed villain?

Staring down at the lifeless corpse, my mouth dries and my chest tightens.

I stab the corpse, breaking ribs without concern as I pull it apart with my æther fuelled strength. This twisted young creature may yet serve me, his body put to better use in this state than in life.

My head is floating in the clouds as my hands work with a will of their own.

Flashes return to me, moments of that night...

Father’s screams turn to bloody gurgles, while my step-mother’s screams are clear, ringing through the air like a cruel siren in the night.

Despair and desperation drown out all else in the room, stuffing my mouth more effectively than a handful of cotton.

I want to run, to abandon everyone and just flee for my life, but I can’t even do that.

I’m too weak to be a coward.

My frozen hands move with a will of their own, as I tear into the man’s chest. There’s little blood remaining in him.

His eyes shine with dull terror. Were mine the same?

His heart is soft and still in my hand. Is mine the same?

A tremor takes my hands from me for the length of a heartbeat, but no heart here is beating.

More and more of my own cold magic floods into me, and I wear it like a cloak. A warm blanket against the emotions that would flood me.

The moment passes, and though I feel it should be otherwise, my heart is still frozen. I’m still a monster.

Clarity returns, all that remains of who I once was now that my soul has left this fractured container behind. What being can live on without a beating heart? What being can find pleasure in such atrocities and cruelties? What being can sip fouled tea as their family’s corpses are put away into boxes?

No, the soul that I remember having is gone. It must be, for the girl I once was couldn’t do these things. She wouldn’t.

In the darkness, bright as day, I tear from the man his heart and fully sever his head. The parts of a man that are most dense with the essence of life.

The rest, I leave splayed. My cuts were amateur at best and my efforts more designed by passion than a proper mind. It is a cruel memorial that remains... but what more might be done with it…?

Perhaps, there is something that can be done with it…

On instinct I reach for the remains, my hands seeking to craft something, but my mind does not know what. My sanity escapes to consider future plans whilst leaving my hands to the insane work of binding bone and flesh into something new, something useful.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After setting everything into its proper place, I return to my room and clean up. I don’t trust the maids to do their work properly, but it’s still an awful discovery to find that my room is as soiled as when I last left it.

My uncle may have a different mind about matters, but he is right that I need a personal maid, if only to protect me from the incompetence of his own staff. More than that, I’d much like some personal muscle as well, even if I cannot find a knight that still recalls the meaning of honour. Not one of father’s oathbound knights has come to save me.

Desperate times justify desperate measures… so it seems that I must prepare something for myself.

Dressing carefully, I make preparations and gather some coin from my personal wallet. I’ll have to raid my father’s coffers before uncle can spend it all, but there’s only so much I can do with my current strength.

“Noble dignity comes from seeing through noble responsibilities,” I whisper the words hoping to find inspiration as I leave the estate. A few guards try to stop me, but my æther fuelled gaze grants me enough pause to leave them behind.

The darkness calls to me, and I cross the vast yards towards the town that has been wrongfully abandoned by my noble family. There is much to be done, but before I can begin correcting wrongs, I must gather loyal maids, knights, and soldiers.

The city is a mess of voices and scents, but I wander through with care to find the few familiar characters that I might first draw into my service. I have all night to search, and all day to train. The life of a sleepless monster truly allows me to better use my time.

“Young miss?” The family young woman greets me with a fine curtsy, as fine as I could expect of a proper servant.

“I’ve found you again,” I say. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I must apologise for my earlier misunderstandings. It was poor of me to treat you as I have.”

“Please, don’t speak of it again. It’s forgiven already, miss,” she says, with a warm smile. What brought such a kind young woman to this place, I’m not sure I can properly understand.

“If it isn’t imprudent to ask, might I know what busies your days and nights? Your employment, specifically,” I ask her.

“My employment?” She asks, sounding troubled. “I used to work as a scullery maid, but I wasn’t fit for it. Ever since, I’ve sought what work I can find, without having to sell my body.” Her cheeks blush at that, likely recalling my insinuations. “A week ago the baker’s son fell sick with some nature of ailment, so I assisted the baker in preparing breads, but the boy has since recovered and my help is no longer needed.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Then my offer wouldn’t be a bother,” I say, meeting her eyes. “I’m in rather desperate need of a lady’s maid to assist me with various simple tasks. I can arrange for all you would need, and proper pay for the work, of course.”

“A lady’s maid?” The girl asks, her brow creasing in confusion. “But this is hardly how such things are done.”

“As I said, my situation is rather desperate,” I repeat.

“Hey, you came back to cause more trouble, did you?” The roaring voice is another familiar one. The brute of a man who gave chase to me when I was trying to leave. I’m certain, that while he was brutish in his approach, he never had any truly cruel intentions for me. Not only my noble bearings but also my huntress senses tell me as much.

“It’s good that you came by, I have business I wanted to discuss with you, as well,” I say, meeting his eyes. I do not flash my power this time, it is too useless and would only cause more trouble. “Can you use a sword and a spear?”

“What nonsense are you spewing tonight?” He asks, as the woman rushes to his side to try and calm him. I leave her to it for now and prepare my speech for him.

“What is this about jobs?” The man asks suspiciously.

“I need a personal maid, and I’d very much like for someone who can act as a guard while I walk the streets,” I say. “As you can likely surmise, it is quite unusual for a woman like me to wander the streets alone.”

“Why not have your brother or some servant run about for you?” The man asks, interrupting the girl as she tries to ask something a little more politely.

“My servants and brothers are dead,” I say. “Haven’t you heard word of it yet? I am the last daughter of the Greystone family. Three nights ago, all those who directly share my bloodline were killed. I alone survive them.”

His eyes open wide, as the girl pulls herself free from the large man’s grasp. She takes my hand and whispers a soft prayer for those that I lost. My heart, frozen by my own spells, remains unmoved, but I thank her regardless.

“I lost all my servants as well as my family,” I explain. “My uncle has moved in to try and seize my title, and no knights have come to assist me. I must assume that they’ve abandoned me in favour of my uncle.”

“You want us to fight for your noble title?” The man spits, clearly disgusted with the thought.

“Not at all,” I answer him. “That is my duty, and I will find allies who join my cause for justice rather than payment. All I ask of you is to guard me in the night, as there is much I need done, and I cannot escape of the daytime. I also require a lady’s maid that I can trust, I won’t ask anything too troubling, I assure you.”

“Henry, I want to do it,” she says, looking me in the eyes. There is a subtle strength to her that has illuded my senses for the brief moments I’ve met her. “I, Therina Smithson, accept your offer, my Lady.”

“Thank you,” I reply, bowing my head ever so slightly in return.

“Well, then I need to keep watch to make sure nothing funny happens,” Henry growls, still suspicious of me. There is an anger to him that he only barely hides behind a smile, I can imagine that the smile fades when Therina is not by his side. “I’ll play the part of your guard, but the pay better be proper.”

“It is,” I answer, pulling a few coins from my purse. “I wish to show my trust in you by paying for your service in advance.”

The wage is what I understand to be quite normal for similar roles in my household, but their eyes shine with the light of the coins. I have to worry over the state of these streets if such coins can really bring this much joy.

The pair of them, even without the proper livery, immediately take on the seriousness of the roles they’ve been given. Therina is much more accustomed to it, her steps careful and measured, and her head held high with the proper dignity of a servant. Henry is much less accustomed to formality, but his presence is already enough to keep the less pleasant sort from getting any ideas.

“Where are we going?” Henry asks, looking at the crowds around us as we approach the high-class district that I travelled to before. The place where the murderer still lives.

“I’m checking on something,” I say, listening closely as Therina’s breath starts to grow ragged, and her steps lose their confidence. When we turn a final corner and see the mansion before us, she finally stops dead, her face paling as she sees the building.

“Are you well?” I ask her, but she only shakes her head as her mouth opens and closes like one of those small fish that I’ve seen some nobles keep in their ponds.

“We’re not going inside, are we?” She asks, shuffling her feet and looking away, seeking an escape. She drips with fear palpable enough to inspire great strength from my magic.

“You are not,” I say. “I wanted to see it again before we move on. I need to count the windows and doors. It will take me but a moment, if you can bear with it.”

She nods forcefully, but as we walk, she’s constantly turning the other way as if to hide her face from the house itself.

I can count a few different doors into the building, but there are more windows than I’d like to deal with. It’s natural of course but unpleasant regardless.

Heading away from the house and out towards the slums, I turn to look at Therina, but her complexion hasn’t improved.

“That was where you were working?” I ask, “A scullery maid?”

“I… yes,” she answers. “I ran away. That house. Something about it isn’t right. I heard screaming of a night, and sometimes the other maids went missing, and… I ran away.”

“A smart move,” I say, nodding. “If you’d stayed, I suspect you might have been killed. The young master, son of the lord, is quite the demented killer.”

She chokes, nearly missing a step, but following soon after with a dark shadow over her expression.

“And where are you taking us now? From the house of a killer to where?” Henry asks, he’s more cautious of me now than he was before.

I listen carefully while heading towards the house tainted by blood and death.

“There was a murder down here early last evening, the murderer was… well that’s rather obvious, isn’t it?” I say. “I’m looking for the family that survives the poor girl.”

“What for?” Henry asks. “That sort of thing happens all the time down here, if you’re going to try and help them, I don’t think you can.”

“There is one thing that I can offer them.” I say, “Ah, I can hear them now.”

Their weeping is deeper and contains a desperate raw quality that sets it apart from most of the others that I can hear echoing in the residences surrounding. Quite the unnatural state for a community, that so many would be weeping in the quiet of their homes.

I don’t hesitate longer than a second and walk right up to the house where the family resides, not the same as where the murder took place. It seems they’re staying with friends or extended family, and the rooms do seem quite packed.

“Henry, please knock for me,” I say, waving to the door. The man gives me a strange look before shaking his head and doing as I ask.

The sounds in the house quiet for a moment as the door rattles on its hinges.

“What is it?” A cautious voice from inside calls out to us. A young man by the sounds of it.

“I was with the reeve yesterday,” I say, calling out through the door that remains firmly closed. “I may be able to shed light on a few matters, and maybe you can even assist me in bringing the killer to justice.”

“The killers already seen justice,” The words are spit with a deeply venomous sarcasm as the man opens the door and glares at me with reddened eyes. “Some thief that those corrupt reeves just picked off the street. We know it was that noble brat who did it.”

“So, you’re already aware of the killer’s identity? Good,” I say nodding my head, slowly. “Then I would like to request your assistance.”

I pull out the sizeable bag that I’ve carried with me from my home estate. It’s proper leather and the cord is pulled tight. The crafters made it well, and it seals scents well enough that the humans can’t tell what’s within.

“Oh, you’re going to march into that mansion and drag him out to be hanged, are you?” the man asks me.

“No,” I reply. “The entire family is responsible for allowing this murder to go unpunished, and I simply cannot bear the thought of them living on my land. Any who bear responsibility for the boy’s actions will see the same fate, and while a public hanging would be proper justice, I haven’t the power to enact as such.

“No, they’ll be killed in their own home, instead.”

“Huh…?” the boy sounds confused, looking at me with wide eyes, finally taking in all the hints that should give away my noble class.

“I need these to be spread out to surround the house,” I say, opening the bag. The air instantly fills with a deep terror, the same that the man I murdered felt in the moments of his death.

Those around me glance down into the bag and see the terrible things inside. Figures wrought in bone and flesh. Some imitate the shape of a human, and others, animals that were never real and never could be. They’re twisted, demented things and could only be made by the work of a twisted mind.

“These must be set by evening tomorrow, surrounding the mansion, and as close to the walls as you can manage. On the ceiling too if you can make it happen.”

“What are these?” Henry asks, swallowing hard. Finally, something I’ve created has broken him from his overbearing confidence and inspired a faint quivering fear.

“These are… they will strengthen my magic,” I explain.

“And how will that help you to deal with this noble brat?” He asks.

“I’ll kill him, obviously,” I explain, and finally, it clicks in my head.

This isn’t normal.

What I’m doing isn’t normal.

It certainly isn’t noble.

I’m asking them to aid me in the murder of a nobleman and his family, and not once did I even pause to realize the weight of that request.

“Maybe I had you wrong, lass,” Henry says, planting a hand on my head and messing my hair as he chuckles. “Now, please don’t tell me that you killed some innocent chump to make these… things.”