Fatal Choice

Normal Day

Ring around the rosy, A pocket full of posey. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. The sound of children's screams grew with each second. Leliah looked to the left, then to the right before cocking her head forwards, towards the little boy.

Her eerie grimace grew large and her eyes became bloodshot. Slowly the sound of the children got closer. With every blink the boy made, Leliah would seem to appear closer. The little boy stood in fear, in the darkness of a dark alley. She got closer. By the time she was in front of him, she had a chain around her neck.

She slowly unraveled it from her neck and chained it to the boy, as the boy's teared up eye blinked, she dissapeared but all that was left was the chain and a corpse...

Lileah shook her head furiously, awaking from her daydream with cold sweat running down her back and face. It was all a nightmare, the killing, the blood, the torture...

He was standing right against the side of the crudely built Alleyway Tavern, famous for their various ales from across the realm. He fought an innocent man for a chunk of meat, sending his flimsy corpse flying onto the desolate streets. Such violence. Leilah thought to herself as she watched the endless massacre around her. But 'tis the way of Sartarus, the bloodiest and most gruesome realm in the cosmos. Unfortunately, it was also Leilah's only home. He tore into the bloody raw flesh with his sharply cut teeth, like a panther digging into its prey.

He changed position, attempting to find the sweet spot on the bricks that contoured his back just right. It was time to strike.

Leilah hoisted her petite dagger from its holster that she stole from the nearby market. Leilah stayed close to the rigid wall, silently lurking in the shadows to conceal her identity. A bead of sweat trailed down her brow. The sharp sting of pain of the bead penetraing her miniscule scar shot up her soft, blackened cheeks.

She winced in pain, quickly recovering. She couldn't show pain. Pain showed weakness. Weakness showed vulnerability. And vulnerability was an easy kill. The bricks scratched against Leilah's crusty rags she wore as clothes, irritating the skin on her back. The man was just in front of her.

She tiptoed across the cool, black asphalt of the alleyway. She crept up behind him, out of his gaze. Then she struck. The dagger deeply penetrated her victims neck, digging into his esophagus and arteries. The deep scarlet shade of blood stained her dagger, as the man fell to the ground.

Leilah quickly hid the remains in the shadows, before wiping off the stains of the gore on her silver dagger, wiping away the memories of her kills with just her thumb and index finger.

Leilah rose to her feet as she sighed. She walked through the crowd of fighting people.
People killed each other for no apparent reason and no one would help the fighters. There is no police or government here. It was utter and complete chaos.

She shoved a fresh corpse out of the way as Leilah entered the rancid, putrid scented tavern, rewarding herself with a freshly brewed Sartar Ale. "One pint...please" She asked with a whisper.

All eyes were on Leilah, gazing at her concealed identity, hidden by her charcoal cloak. She removed her leathery hood slowly, not to show any sign of violence to the other patrons.

The tavern was a neutral zone with violence on rare occasions. Leilahs's hair was cut short, almost boyishly, hiding the fact she was female, to prevent any "problems" with any of the men of Sartarus.

She sat down at a desolate wooden stool, and was served like one of the regulars. The cool, gentle fizz of the ale tickled Leilah's tongue, comforting her like a warm hug.

It eased the pain of the harsh world she lived in, where murderers roamed freely with no punishment.

Just as she began to get comfortable, her glass was smashed into the floor as a body was hurled over the counter.
She stood up angrily and unsheathed two jagged daggers.
Everyone went silent as she walked up to the man that threw the guy.
"You just ruined my drink." Leilah hissed.

"I...I'm sorry." He apologized. Leilah nodded, with what seemed to be genuine forgiveness, then stabbed one dagger threw his throat and the other in his lower chest.
"Your forgiven." She whispered and ripped her blades from his flesh and his corpse fell over.

She angrily slammed 5 gold coins down on the bar counter and ordered again. The barkeep shook his head and passed her another beer.
"It's on the house." He says and Leilah nodded and retrieved her money back into her bloody grasp.
"Thanks" She muttered.
The barkeep likes her, because she keeps most of the trouble away from his tavern.

After exiting the tavern, she went back to the corpse. She rummaged through the lifeless corpse's pockets to no avail.

Just another broke traveler. She was about to stand back up and be on her way, when a large, hairy hand grasped her shoulder with the grip of a thousand men. "Let go of me!" Leilah yelled, trying to free herself from his grasp. The hand stayed put, relentless to let go.

The grip grew stronger and more fierce with every second the past. Leilah pulled out her dagger and stabbed it into the man's hand, accidentally stabbing herself as well. Wincing in pain, Leilah freed herself from the grip and sprinted away from the scene. With no looking back, she ran through the market, knocking over multiple customers.

Enraged, they all chased after her, weapons raised and ready. Leilah swiveled and turned, trying to lose the killers. She turned a corner into the darker parts of town. A risky move, but a good one. The risk paid off. No one followed her into the Dark boundaries. No one went into the Dark boundaries, or at least, none have lived to tell the tale...