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Bloodbath

Somewhere within the woods, murder most cruel had taken place. The blood of an entire family had been gathered, and poured into a wooden tub. Their drained bodies lay strewn about like empty bottles on the floor of the remote cabin.

A pale woman stood scrubbing her spotless pale skin. Over and over, she lathered the blood against her, as she tried to wash the smell off. Yet, no matter how long she bathed the scent attached itself to her like a vengeful specter.

In the doorway, a dark shadow materialized. Magic suffused the air, as Hannah's form appeared within the cabin.

"Lady Lilly, have you finished bathing?" Hannah's ethereal voice invaded the cabin. Her hands were clasped before her as she waited for her mistress to respond.

"How can I? It's stuck. I've bathed for hours, it isn't getting better. Even now, the faint whiff invades my nose unexpectedly."

"Perhaps, you should return home. Your mother is no doubt worried sick about you."

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"Absolutely not! I will kill that man! I will return to my mother triumphant! Then she will be forced to recognize me!"

"As you wish, my lady." Hannah replied, bowing forward slightly.

"Have you delivered the letter?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Bending down, Lilly scooped up a handful of blood. Splashing it across her face, she grimaced.

"You could have a real bath if you returned home. Pure virgin blood would surely help with the stench."

"No, killing him takes priority." Lilly said confidently.

"They will have gained considerable ground by now. Most likely they will head for Hueryss. The living always seek refuge in cities. They may reach it before us." Hannah replied.

"Bathing takes priority. It matter's not if he hides in the city. We shall draw him out and slay him." Lilly said confidently. Her face scrunched up, as the faintest whiff of Project SKUNK tickled her senses.

"As you wish, my lady." Hannah replied with a bow.

Hannah stood in the doorway silently watching her mistress bathe with the blood of the slain family. Her cold, still, heart ached with pity watching Lilly suffer so much. The splash of falling blood stained the floors of the cabin. The dead family's bodies lay beside the tub reaching out for one another in their final moments. Drops of their stolen blood would splash against their threadbare clothes, as Lilly continued methodically washing her pristine pale skin. She bathed until the rising sun drover her back to her coffin, leaving the slain beastkin to rot in their homestead.