Druscilla had ended human life before. She held no remorse for her victims simply because she didn't think about them. But as they prepared to spring an attack on an unsuspecting village with no name, introspection plagued her mind.

She tried to call up the images of those she had killed. There was the guard over Ruringer's grave, some random doorman for a brothel, one of the Terry twins, and that was about it. A surprisingly low body count all things considered. A tiny fraction compared to Morrigan’s - however high that was. Morrigan didn't exactly keep track.

Speaking of Morrigan, where was she? Probably booked it out of here with Desmona. It was probably for the best, though Druscilla could not help but feel isolated and exposed. According to that shaman under Euwaine, there were seven of Druscilla’s kin. Desmona had confirmed the death of one at the hands of an angel. That meant there were probably six now - if the other three lived.

Druscilla ventured a guess that they were nigh unkillable - except by angels. But she didn't even know whether angels were real. Desmona might have lied. She was a slippery one, that succubus; hiding a massive ego to suck up to stronger individuals. It was not hard to imagine how she ensnared Morrigan. The siren lived on impulse - and Desmona held domain over the greatest impulse of all: sexual desire.

Actually it might even be a good thing that those two left. They were both insufferable, and would eventually, in some way or another, become obstacles in Druscilla’s path. I shouldn't feel hollow at their departure - I should rejoice.

"My lady," a voice came from below her. "We're ready to move out."

Druscilla gracefully fell from the branch she was resting on. The man who addressed her was named Eric, leader of this raiding party. Before they left main camp Druscilla had heard the Marshal giving Eric specific orders to make sure Druscilla was in the thick of it when the fighting began. Amazing what people say when they think I'm out of earshot. Druscilla wasn't particularly worried about her safety. "Remind the men to keep casualties to a minimum. Destroy physical property, avoid bloodshed. Understood?"

"Understood." The wiry man with leathery skin sauntered off to address the thirty mounted men who comprised their party. Each one was armed with a spear and short sword. No shield. They wore light leather armour and a coned metal helmet protected their heads. These were known as skirmishers, part of the light cavalry.

When they were back at main camp Druscilla had expressly told them to avoid killing civilians. This was because the locals had to flee somewhere, making them somebody else's problem. They would probably move to fortified towns or cities. The closest one was Fineby, which Druscilla planned to attack. Several thousand extra mouths to feed would severely disadvantage the defenders at Fineby. The local lord could, of course, refuse entry to the peasants after weighing the pros and cons. That would undoubtedly strike a blow to the morale of the defenders - they would have to watch as thousands starved outside their walls while they had their bellies' full.

Well, it all starts now. Druscilla mounted her horse - a difficult task given how she was shoulder high compared to the horse. She had known how to ride for all of three days. Needless to say, she was pretty inexperienced. Luckily the horse knew her on a deeper level, and the strength of their bond, however false and unnatural it was, managed to mask Druscilla’s ineptitude at equestrianism.

The raiding party came up behind her. They looked to be pumped for the next few hours of their lives. Druscilla did not wish to steal their thunder with a long winded speech. A snarky one liner would do. "Gentlemen, let's go introduce ourselves."

A murmur of agreement rose up from them. Druscilla nudged her horse forward towards the village. The suns had just set, the night was very young. She planned to at least hit two other villages before morning.

They crept silently amongst the trees, like a pack of wolves out for blood. The soft earth below the canopy muffled their horses' hooves. Druscilla could hear everybody's bated breath, and the excited palpitations of their hearts. The forest was quiet but Druscilla was in the middle of a cacophony. Their anticipation infected Druscilla, the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end.

Soon she could hear the sounds of life nearby, just over a ridge. It must have been dinner time. The situation reminded her of when she had visited Pen's household.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

There was a big tree at the top of the ridge. An old oak, centuries old. Beneath it's broad branches lay a young couple, snuggling in warmth in the night time chill. The boy was the first to see them: shadowy figures from the depths of the forest, armed to the teeth and with scowls and sneers on their faces bearing them no love.

"You should run," Druscilla told them softly. The boy took the girl's hand and turned to run down the hill. Her feet caught in the tangle of clothes and roots and she fell face down. Her lover did not look back. He ran screaming down the hill like a madman. The girl looked at his retreating form in disbelief, a pained gasp escaping from her lips. Only Druscilla heard it however, as the men let out a guffaw.

What brutes they are. "Go," she told them. And they galloped down the hill. Druscilla dismounted and approached the girl. "Betrayed you did he? I can relate." The girl shied away from her outstretched hand. Druscilla smiled her best smile. "I'm not going to hurt you." I've had enough goat blood to last me a lifetime.

She tried to run, but the Vampire caught her by the wrist. She pulled at the girl, a bit too roughly as she heard something snap. With her free hand she wrapped her hand around the girl's waist. She smelled of earth and sweat - the latter being intoxicating to the Vampire.

The human struggled, trying to scratch out the Vampire's eyes. She was also probably screaming, but the Vampire did not hear it over the girl's thundering heart. The Vampire ripped the girl's blouse exposing her chest. Like she had seen Dixie do, the Vampire bit the girl in her chest, a bit above and a bit to the right of the girl's left breast. Beneath the skin and bone, there was a major artery. The Vampire's fangs painfully extended to a previously unrealized length. They pierced skin and breastbone to the aorta beneath.

The fluid filled the Vampire's mouth and exploded in an iron tang on her taste buds. It tasted so good she could have cried. Several mouthfuls later and the deed was done.

The Vampire was gone, leaving Druscilla in its place. Another life taken. Maybe it was because she was undead that she was unfeeling. While she had not been the best of people, surely taking a life should have wracked her with guilt. But it didn't. That was how it was. No use getting too caught up in my lost humanity. I have a job to do.

She mounted her horse, which had stood there silently throughout the whole ordeal. Druscilla padded down the hill to join the frenzy. She had not heard it before, but the noises of people screaming and fires raging filled the night.

She emerged from the forest into a little clearing. The earth was flat and the open space was populated with a huddle of about three dozen mud and earthen huts with thatched roofs. It must have been idyllic once. But for now it was chaos. Everything that could burn was burning. Residents were scattering into the forest like scared mice. Amidst it all Druscilla’s men rode through the carnage, torches in hand. Others whacked the slow with the blunt end of their spears.

Eric spotted Druscilla and made a beeline toward her. Druscilla wiped the red from her lips. "What's the situation?" she asked.

"It all went according to plan. The only casualties are those who tried resisting."

"That's good to hear. It seems we're done here. Move on to the next settlement. I'll join you after I look around."

"Understood."

He did not ask me where I was from or what exactly I plan to do, Druscilla noted. Has he forgotten his orders from the Marshal?

The men galloped off, still on their bloodthirsty high. Along amidst the fires, Druscilla trotted over to the well. She had heard scraping noises from within - an odd sound to come out of a well. Whatever was making that sound was probably unnatural so Druscilla dismissed her men in the anticipation that she would use her abilities.

The metal on metal scraping sound continued. Druscilla dismounted and peered down the well. At the bottom, floating on a wooden chair on the water was an old crone sharpening a knife. She wore a stack of necklaces obscuring her neck. Just looking at them made Druscilla’s head ache. "Another shaman? How many of you are there?"

"Enough. We are where we need to be."

"Forgive me, but how's sitting at the bottom of a well necessary?"

"Keeping distance from you of course."

"Aw come on, I rarely bite."

"No thank you."

"Do you have anything to say to me?"

"Not really."

These people need to learn respect. "What are you doing here?"

"Learning."

"Learning what?"

"About you."

"Stop being obtuse."

"I am being serious. The runes predicted you would raise undead on this ground."

"Your runes are wrong. I haven't turned anyone tonight. I can't exactly go handing out the gift left and right."

The old lady chuckled. "A gift eh? Is that what you call it?"

"That's what it is."

"The runes are never wrong."

"Whatever. I don't care."

"I am curious. How will you explain your ghoul to the humans around you?"

"My ghoul?"

"Poor Lita. She was a virgin when she met you. Oh? I can sense her approaching."

Druscilla looked around. Through the treeline came the girl she had just murdered. Skin blue, knotted with dark veins and glassy, dead eyes. 'Lita' shuffled towards her. Druscilla had somehow reanimated her into an abomination.

"I have questions for you old l-" she stopped when she looked down the well. Her own reflection looked back up at her from the surface of the water. How…?

The ghoul was still shuffling toward Druscilla. Her dead eyes looked at her like one might a parent. It was deeply discomforting.

It seemed that Druscilla was very good at spreading Death and Decay.