Bloodletter: The Lady Killer **ON HIATUS**

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Resta scanned the buildings around her.  Night had fallen; she was shrouded in a thick cloak of red velvet.  She knelt on one of the terracotta tiled buildings surrounding her prey.  The neighborhood she was in was very fine and luxurious — home to the lesser nobility and prosperous merchants of the city.  No one was in sight.

Her target was a wealthy lord named Borin.  Despite his wealth however, he had no lands, just his villa.  The man was a bastard and though he was the only son, he had barely retained the title.  He did get the money though.  Borin was a balding, round man, with a face so swollen and pudgy that it looked as if it might burst.  

No wonder his name was Borin, these weeks watching him had been some of the most boring of her life.  He made her job easy, so easy.

Crawling from rooftop to rooftop for weeks for a better vantage point or to hide from members of the Royal Guard.  All of this was in an attempt to keep an eye on the man, whose life was the same as most lords.  He'd have the occasional meeting to talk business then indulge in whatever his heart's desire was — usually something highly unsavory.  

She'd seen him beat his servants.  Disgusting.  Not that Resta hadn't done far worse things in her life of seventeen years.  It wasn't uncommon for lords to treat their servants that way, if she had a coin for every time she'd seen it-well-she'd be even richer.

Some of his servants had left for the night, going back to their quaint homes or families.  Most of the household was asleep.  Yet one servant was always awake at this hour.  Every night near midnight he would go to take the trash from the day and dispose of it.  Who knew what might be in that lord's trash...

Judging by the moon, it was near that time now.  And sure enough in less a dozen breaths the boy emerged.  He couldn't have been much older than her, in fact he was probably younger.  The boy was lanky, he hadn't grown into his height yet.  Shouldering the bags, he began the trek to wherever he would dispose of the rubbish.  He would be gone for at least a third of the clock, which meant that he was going far enough that it wouldn't be trace back to his lord.  Definitely something unsavory.

This suited Resta just fine.  It would buy her plenty of time to do what she needed to do.  She scanned the street a final time, clear.  Resta shimmied down the side of the building she had perched on and silently as a cat, padded to the edge of the house.  Her boots were two sizes too large, why make it easy to be found?  She always wore different size shoes.  Variation is key, she was taught.

With deft ease, she climbed up the side of his manor house.  She knew that the window she was heading towards would be open, as it always was.  Fool.  Lord Boring left his window open every night.  After chatting up the trash boy, she learned that he'd been suffering hot flashes of late.  No doubt due to his indulgent lifestyle.  Hopefully it wouldn't catch.

So it was no surprise when her right hand gripped the window sill and her left went right through the open window.  She swung both legs over and landed in the room with barely a thud.

Lord Boring lay asleep in his four poster bed, he didn't stir when she came in.  Resta was certain that his luxurious room was a stark contrast than that of his servants.  Every object in his room reflected his wealth and stature, from the carved wood furniture to the smooth, even mirror that rested against his dressing table.

The Lord's wife was not in the room, as was to be expected.  Most nobility did not share a bed.  That just made her job all the easier.

Resta reached into the layers of her cloak and pulled out a dagger.  It was an exquisite piece, a wide blade sharpened to a deadly point and a golden handle with a large amethyst within the pommel.  The blade had been a gift.

She strode over to the bed and woke the man gently.  She pulled back her cowl and let him see her face.  The face of his death.  She watched his face turn from surprise then to horror as he beheld the blade in her hand.  She watched his mouth begin to move, ready to plead for his life like the rest.  She watched.

He seemed to know who she was, yet he bothered to try.

Resta didn't give him the chance to scream as she drove the blade through his chest.  The most he could do was widen his eyes and gasp for air.  The smell of salt and iron overwhelmed her senses and she breathed into her nose deeply, savoring it.  She pushed the blade in further and twisted, her vision turning to a glorious white.  It felt like electricity coursed through her blood and all around her was a sweet, soft buzzing sound.  It was the greatest feeling in the world.

Lord Boring's dying groan gave her a sick sense of ecstasy.  This was not her first time killing, or her second, probably not even her hundredth.  And it wouldn't be her last.

At last, she retrieved her blade and crept silently into the night, careful not to disturb the household.

Hey guys Eva here, hope you like this story.  It is ongoing ofc!  While reading please considering following, voting, and commenting!  You have NO IDEA (unless your a fellow wattpad writer ;D) how much it means, and how much it really does effect how your story does!  If you can't think of a comment I will be leaving a question at the end, and I'm thinking I'll be doing something different every chapter...soooo check it out! Alright, alright, I'll stop rambling and let you read! :)  Q: Ever been skiing?  If so how many times have you hurt yourselves?  I know I've fallen on my butt quite a few times...