In the chill of dusk’s embrace, the demon huntress found respite beside a mighty oak. Before her lay a figure, outwardly fair yet harboring within a soul as black as night’s shroud. Upon this eve, she nestled his head in her bosom, bestowing upon him the tender solace of a lady’s embrace. The demon huntress, in her cunning, indulged his desires, yet harbored designs for this sinister, entwined soul. The visage of the man bore a striking resemblance to one whom she had once cherished, yet the guise concealed secrets veiled by the cloak of night’s mysteries.

The man looks up and speaks to her, saying, "Do you not know my identity? Do you not perceive the semblance of the man whom you once held dear? I bear his likeness, his thoughts, his desires. Surely, memories of joyous pasts do linger in your heart. I… I have yearned for you, Lagertha. Together again, reunited at long last, you and I."

As he spoke thus, the hue of the man’s eyes shifted, heralding the imminent hour of demon-hunting. Lagertha, seasoned in the art of vanquishing fiends, discerned the deceit within this guise, unlike the cherished one of yore. This figure plotted snares to ensnare her soul should she tread his treacherous path. Though the sun’s descent cast a frigid pall, the demon huntress remained untouched by the chill. Before Lagertha’s gaze, the man’s countenance morphed, revealing his true form. Verily, the visage of the man bespoke a feral creature, its frame shrouded in fur and rent flesh.

At that instant, Lagertha runs away from the demon and reaches for her longsword. The sword itself was imbued with a rose-like appearance on the blade of the weapon. Lagertha then pulls the sword out from the ground, and she watches as the demon finishes his transformation. The transformation itself seemed painful as blood began to spurt out from its body because of the horns attached to its face and back. Lagertha holds onto her sword, having no armor to protect herself, but determined to put the night creature to sleep. Both the creature and the huntress had nothing left but fate on their side.

Lagertha faced the demon and spoke to him, saying, "Do you really think I'm so ill-minded? You have nothing to offer me. You can’t beguile me with your pretensions!"

Then, the demon roars and makes the ground shake as the hunt seems to begin. The demon itself has teeth which appeared like swords, and the horns attached to his body appeared like spears. Lagertha strolls towards the demon with her longsword, and she is ready to take another demonic soul. She was prepared to rid the beast, especially since it dared to take the appearance of the man she loved. Lagertha lifts her sword in the air to land a blow on the creature and sever his head from his shoulders. She had a fierce look on her face with a fiery urge to kill a hellish beast.

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Instantly, Lagertha’s blade ends up being grabbed by the demon’s hand, and she tries to pull it back. The heaviness of the sword made her stumble a bit because of how many souls she had already taken. The sword starts making the demon’s hand bleed as he tries to pull the sword by the sharp edges. The blood itself smelled awful, and it would make any ordinary mortal vomit at the sight of it. Lagertha’s will and determination to survive the night was enough for the creature to gaze at her fiery eyes. They both understood each other’s eternal desires.

A second later, Lagertha pulls the sword back from the demon’s grip, and she starts attacking the creature. With all of her rage and fury, she swings her sword and watches as blood starts to splatter across the forest. The blood stains both the floor and the sword as the night itself had nothing more to give but the cold atmosphere. The creature had no weapon to defend himself as Lagertha proceeded to violently swing her blade against her foe. So it was that the demon huntress showed no mercy against the one who tried to lure her into temptation.

Without hesitation, Lagertha uses her blade and stabs the demon in the chest, and she drives the sword deep into his body. The blade itself is sharp enough to pierce the flesh of even the foulest creature, for no other sword was anything like the one that Lagertha wields. The demon huntress watches as so much blood splatters out of the beast, and she gazes upon him as he falls to the ground. He tried to tempt her, and he failed, yet his eyes were enough to make him persuade the huntress that he really was her lover.

"It is I, Lagertha," the demon said. "It is me. I have longed for you… I have wandered the Earth to find you and reunite with you."

Lagertha replied, "No! You’re not him, and you never will be. What are you but a foul-scented beast waiting to be put out of its misery? Ripping out your soul and tearing you asunder is the only thing keeping me sane! The man I know and love is still out there… and I will find him."

At that moment, Lagertha uses her blade and decapitates the demon. There was nothing left for the night creature but death, and all that was left for the demon huntress was the bleak night. The night itself reeked of sorcery and supernatural horrors, and such things were enough to make any common person fear for their lives. But in Lagertha’s case, she was taught to never have fear for those who serve the dark arts. Yet she could not resist the temptations residing in her soul; survival was all that was important to her in such a day and age.

Lagertha's heart, though steeled against the night, felt shadows stir within her inmost core. Survival's flame, a beacon burning bright, illumined the path she must tread forevermore.