Flame of the Huntress

Ring of Fire

I scan my surroundings before daring to make another move. The midnight breeze bites at my exposed skin. Curse this dress–I would have taken the guards armor, however to my disappointment I would only be swimming in it, considering his size.

It seems the dungeons were somewhere behind the castle in a small cobblestone tower, so small it serves the only purpose of entrance and exit. Now considering, I'm surprised by the size, it seems my cell was the only one there too. Interesting why so, I would believe a King has a city full of rebels who are locked up for threatening his rulership.

My stomach growls—Before I continue my vengeful mission, I need to eat, and change out of this dress.

With a swift glance back, I ran through the forest down towards the city.

~~~~~~

It's around midnight but the townspeople are awake as ever. Merchants are traveling down the cobblestone floors with baskets full of treats, maidens are giggling whilst in their tight dress with large plunges at the breasts, and the smell of pie—divine, like the warmest hug.

My stomach threatens to eat itself, but the blood soaking my clothes beg to differ.

Luckily the blood blends in with my gown. And with most of the crowd being drunk and the darkness in my favor, I am sure to get no second glances.

Time to have some fun~

I walked right through the rush of people, who didn't spare me a moment's notice like I thought, and headed straight for D'angelo's Pitt.

The bar is filled with bearded men who all look like they've been to hell and back. The stench of whiskey and men's odor hits my nose, threatening me to hurl.

Women in scandalous attire are dancing on the tops of tables or in the laps of the dirty bastards, catching mosts' attention.

But my eyes go straight ahead to the Pitt–the reason I came to this low-life place.

Two men are ruthlessly brawling, covered in each other's blood and sweat. A crowd wrapped around them cheering for more pain and punches.

The two sharing the ring are both massive, obnoxiously muscular like wild beasts. Punch after punch, they beat each other until one can no longer fight back.

I would sneak off late in the night to places like these back when I was at the Guild. It was a time where I didn't have to think, didn't have to be anyone, moments of pure survival and pure bloodlust clouding any thoughts. At times, I would have far too many drinks before entering the ring and leave absolutely obliterated by my opponent, bruised and bloodied on every part of me–but it was an escape, a distraction from the numb feeling that consumed me.

I stared at the pit, watching the viking-looking-one give the final blow. The crowd roared in excitement with their beers in the air to the black-eyed victor.

A polished looking man in a black tuxedo hands the victor his handsome earnings–the earnings I so badly need if I want a new pair of clothes and food in my stomach.

"Who's Next?" The victor shouts to the crowd, blood spurting out from his grimacing mouth, "Come on..", his unconscious opponent's body is being dragged out of the arena, leaving a trail of blood behind, "Who is brave enough to try and defeat me?" He lets out a cocky grin on his bearded face.

Everyone just stares at each other as the cheers settle down, no one daring to step in the ring until–

"Me."

The crowd goes completely silent as they try to find the one behind the voice, the one who dares.

Everyone's eyes slowly shift to the woman wearing a long red dress, striding with feline grace and powerful steps right towards the ring, "I am your next opponent".

The viking's turns to me and slowly scans me head to toe, "You?" He tries to contain a burst of laughter, "You pretty-little thing are going to try and fight me?" He lets out a roar of laughter, the crowd joins in to the hysterics, "We can have a brawl," his eyes roam around my body lingering far to long on my hips, making me want to strangle him right then and there, "but later in the sheets, sweetheart", the grin he gives is lustful and disgusting, making me grimace.

    A flame of deadly promise slides across my eyes, I can see him stiffen slightly at the sight, "What is a big-boy like you so scared of?'' I continue my confident stride, my eyes now burning bright red, my voice menacing, daunting, silencing the crowd once more, "Of a pretty-little thing wiping the floor with your ugly ass?" The crowd can't help but snicker, making the viking's brows furrow. What a fragile ego–how pitiful.

A muscle clenches in his jaw, "Bring it on, princess" he growls.

With a blood-promising grin, I enter the ring~