Black dust hung unseeable in the air as the maid turned right down the hallway. One moment she strode forward at a comfortable pace, and the next her eyes fluttered closed, legs trembling to collapse where she stood. I caught the fall and pulled her into an empty closet nearby.

There was no way to check if the outfit was on perfectly, but it felt right. I'd mimicked the layers and even how she tied her knots. A gentle click came from the door as I closed it, wandering back into the hallway as a new woman. Step by step I traced back her path down through the carpeted darkness, headed towards the guards. I expected confusion from them as I approached, but I was pleasantly surprised to see they didn't give me a second glance. Most don't pay much attention to hired help like janitors and maids. Picking someone who looked vaguely like me might have been overkill for these two; they didn't seem to care who or what I was so long as I was in uniform.

I fiddled around in the maid's pockets for a temporary distraction. Once they inhaled the black lotus powder it would only be seconds before collapse, but I didn't want to risk getting chopped in half while that happened.

I winced. Something had pricked my finger.

A sewing needle proved to be the culprit. I ran my finger across it in thought.

'That will work.'

Just as I passed by them, I flipped the needle between my fingers and readied the powder in my other hand. With a well-timed twist, I flicked the needle out of my hand and sent it spiraling directly towards the guard on the left, the farthest from me. The intention was for him to react and for the closest guard to turn in response, thereby putting his back to me.

"Shit- what?" The guard on the left placed a hand on his leg, trying to figure out what had just narrowly missed his groin. The other guard raised an eyebrow, his head swiveling to look.

'Now.'

My fingers uncurled just under my chin, revealing a coating of fine dust across the palm. The air passing from my lips sent it swirling into the room, traveling its way over to the soldier's puzzled faces.

One. Inhale.

Two. Exhale.

Three. They both collapsed in a heap of armor and swords at my feet.

I stepped over them to face the door. It didn't fight back as I creaked it open. The room inside was gaudy, and the air was thick with a perfume that permeated my face guard even before I began taking it off. Thick purple curtains dropped off the bed against the far right wall, framing a large figure snoring under the gold silk blankets.

Using magic, I locked the door behind me. A sweep of the hand-pulled back all the blinds to let in the blurred stars and fading moon of soon-to-be dawn. Light streamed across the soft floors. I clenched my fist in the air, causing the blanket to ball up, and tossed it aside until it hit the wall, sliding off. The bare form of the viscount in nothing but a thin nightgown and underwear wasn't a pleasant sight. Finally, the commotion I had been causing in the room awoke him with a start.

"Wh- huh?" He rasped, his voice not yet warmed up. Blinking in the darkness, he rubbed his eyes to adjust. I could pinpoint the moment they did when his gaze widened, meeting my own, and he opened his mouth to shout.

I bolted across the room, leaping into the bed and slamming a hand over the cry. The bed banged against the wall in response. A pull of the dagger from my belt and a press of the blade to his neck, just as I had done with the assassin, helped to still his writhing body.

I gave my orders. "No shouting. No speaking until spoken to. No fighting back. The moment you do, I take care of you; got it?"

His beady eyes filled with resentment, but the tremble of his hands against the bed gave away his fear. I pulled off of him and stood up, wiping the hand that had touched him off on my pants.

"You are Viscount Reidthorne?" I asked, flinging the green rose insignia from my bag onto the sheets. He gulped and looked it over, his pitiful mind working at full capacity to figure out why I had this. A glisten of sweat began to form across his fattened face. I looked him over.

A large man who ate his fill, he bore no facial hair and had a receding hairline of what might have once been full brown locks. From the lack of callouses on his hands to untouched, pale skin, this person had never worked a day in his life and rarely went outside.

'Quite the fancy pig.'

"I am the Viscount. The Viscount Reidthorne." He managed to get out, emphasizing the 'the' as if that would somehow make me bow down and beg for forgiveness.

"A true displeasure to meet you," I smiled at him, giving a curtsy befitting of the maid outfit, "I am Raven. I came to claim my reward, but given the troubles you have put me through...I am afraid no amount of gold alone can compensate for that."

I gestured my hands out wide, palms up as if to say 'What else can you offer?'

"Raven...ah, yes! That Raven-" His eyes were distant, unfocused. He had no idea who I was, just that someone had tried to take his money and that they had to die. "It seems my men gave you a hard time. A mistake, I assure you. No need for any violence, you will be more than compensated." He eyed my maid outfit, which accompanied by my masculine voice left him confused. "Would a man of your...tastes, have interest in women? I have plenty of men I can offer too; quite the variety to pick from."

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I frowned.

"O-or! Or, connections in trade, job positions...rare jewels? Ah, artifacts. We just got plenty of interesting goods from a recent venture to the Southern Isles. Some of those goods are more exclusive to the underground markets. Let's put away the knife and-"

"Shut up," I commanded. His lips sealed. "Here is the only offer I will give you. Do you want to live? I can arrange that. In return, become my slave. You are plenty familiar with how that works, right?"

He didn't miss a beat, which made it apparent to me he wasn't taking any of this seriously.

"Sure, sure! Whatever you say, m'lord!" He joked, outstretching his hand. "Let us shake on it then, yes? Then turn in for the evening. I'm sure it's been a long night for you."

'You aren't wrong about that.'

What did he think would happen here? I bet he suspected that if he just satiated me enough he could worm his way out of this later by calling his soldiers. To his credit, it's not like I had presented him with a legally binding contract. He probably thought that while strong, I was still just a naive kid desperate for a quick cash grab.

I cocked my head at him, outstretching my hand. A breeze began to blow in the room despite the closed windows. Eerie shadows twisted and creeped just out of view, accompanied by a growing chill that bit at exposed fingers and toes. I watched him shiver.

"Are you sure?" I whispered, leaning in close. There was a faint light surrounding my hand, a mixture of pulsing gold, black, and red, swirling and storming like the distant death of a star.

Just as his hand trembled out to meet mine, I hesitated. I didn't want to make a deal with this fool. I just wanted to overpower him. To own him like the meat to slaughter he was. Why did he deserve the same 'status' as the other little chicks I had called my own?

A growing itch inside me, burning against my chest, tickled with another way. What if I used the same power as before, but this time forced it upon him? Why wait for consent from a pile of garbage like him?

I pulled my hand back.

"You don't deserve it," I growled, before thrusting my palm forward to collide with his face, fingers spread to cover as much as possible.

He squirmed and hummed with surprise, but there wasn't any going back now. The light growing by the minute, more fierce and red than I had ever seen it, I committed to the moment. To the hunger. His face was consumed by brilliant sparks as the ritual began again. The wind roared around us, terrified, shattering vases and cutting at limbs of wood. He began to scream, and I felt a pain within me like nothing before. This was different. What I was doing was different- more primal, more corrupting.

Bit by bit the pain grew, and so did the mental anguish. I could sense every inch of his resistance, dragging across the flesh of my brain with dirty, ragged fingernails. He cursed against the darkness, the tentacles of his agony threatening to break my bones, to flush out my lungs. I let out a guttural scream, matching his own. Blood dripped from my nose and fell like tears from my eyes. Weak hands gripped my own, biting, spitting, and pulling, anything to get it away from his face.

'What am I...?'

I could feel his will dripping away. Memories upon memories, terrible visions of life forced themselves through my senses in a muddled mess of experience. The things he'd done, the people he'd hurt, his greed, his lust...even the child he once was, enamored by the beauty of gold and the warmth of his mother. Everything he was and all he would be, crumbling apart as I ran a wrecking ball through his ages, making him a withering leaf under the raging heat of power.

'Grief lust anger pain justice forgiveness loss empathy wrath apathy-'

I was going to lose myself.

'Hope desire need fear knowing hating learning loving-'

He was dripping. The parts that made him human, leaked from his soul. And I. I was eating them.

And leaving nothing behind.

...

A final glare of light blinded us both, just as the wind came to a chilling halt.

Then there was silence.

I coughed up something wet. Blood now stained the front of my shirt. I felt dizzy. I needed rest.

My hands were both back at my sides. I looked at the Viscount and felt my heart plummet. He was alive, but he wasn't there. Vacant eyes with nothing behind them. Blank and grey, staring forward completely unfocused.

"Viscount?" I questioned. He lifted his head.

I could feel it.

'I have to know.'

Despite every muscle aching, I flicked my finger at the nearby window to unlock it. The glass swung open in the breeze.

I swallowed a mixture of spit and blood.

"Jump out of the window," I asked.

Reidthorne pulled himself out of bed with no more urgency than any morning he would wake up. His steps were light and calm, each palm grasping the windowsill as if to enjoy a beautiful day. The moment his first foot pressed against the edge, I called to him.

"S-stop."

'No more.'

"Escort me to a guest room. In the morning, tell the managers of your estate..."

I couldn't come up with any ideas. My mind scrambled.

"You called me because...I am...an old friend. That is who I am. I am staying here for the time being to help you manage the estate and I am to be treated the same as you."

He nodded.

The door burst open. A soldier and what appeared to be a butler came rushing in, with shouts of "Viscount! Lord!" and "Are you alright?" They must have heard the yelling.

I fought back a groan.

"Everything is fine," I began, shielding my face and eyes behind the locks of my hair so they didn't see my appearance. The knight pointing a sword at me warily eyed the blood dripping onto my maid outfit. Behind him, the bodies of guards on the floor continued to sleep. "Isn't that right, Viscount?"

Reidthorne huffed in disgust. "What a fuss- both of you, out. This is my guest." He assured them, his expression nearly back to normal if you didn't notice the glossy gaze of a dead fish that had become his eyes, "And you, Baron."

The butler bowed, not taking his eyes off me for a second.

"Escort my guest to an open room. The best we have."

The butler's mouth fell open. "My- my lord? But...the knights?" He questioned, gesturing towards the suspicious pile of snoring soldiers.

Reidthorne snarled, gripping a pillow with his fat hands and tossing it at the servant. It bounced harmlessly off of his lowered head.

"Now." He demanded, looking like a toddler wanting cake instead of vegetables.

I ran a hand through my tousled hair. "You heard the man," I addressed the two confounded intruders, "Guest room. Now."

***

The butler Baron dropped me off in a room three doors down from the Viscount's own, and I listened to his hesitant footsteps as he walked back down the hall.

After coughing up some more blood in the sink, I collapsed into the sheets.

That night I slept harder than I had in years.