The Blood Witch

1: Gods Suck

~ Rhaenys Vissera, the Blood Witch ~

The God of Battle, Edlidir, stalks toward me, hands in his pockets, ever the portrait of a casual, bored man. Tonight, the god is in the flesh of a blond man with tan skin, bright red eyes, and a magenta velvet suit. He looks almost handsome, but I know better. He's a cruel, sadistic bastard. And one who only works to serve himself.

Edlidir turns to face me, those red eyes sparkling like blood from a terrible, fatal wound. He smiles, a slash of white fangs, and he is right in front of me, then.

"Blood Witch," he says, his voice soft like a lover's caress. But I know better. Instead of leaning into it, I flinch back. He snickers. "Ah, look at you. Reduced to a quivering fool. So simple, so swift in your desperate actions to survive."

I do not speak. I remain with my head down and silent. Edlidir grins and stands upright, walking away from where I sit, chained at the wrists and throat to the floor. He is silent for a moment, before he turns to look at me, a dark look crossing his face.

"Simple little witch," he croons. "Beautiful little woman. How much you have changed .... how much you have grown. Especially since we met."

Still, I don't speak. But when he groans, I look up, confused. His head is tilted back, his eyes closed. He sighs.  "Oh, the lust for battle. It is so alluring to those of this world. This lonely, broken world. So full of hatred and fear and pain. So delicious!"

I glare at him, but remain silent. He smirks and walks over to the large, white marble throne he has claimed as his. Once, many years ago, that throne was my mother's. Now, this monster sits upon it, pretending to be ruler of me. Of all Blood Witches.

But mostly me.

He lounges in the throne, swinging his leg over the arm of it. A dark smirk on his face, he speaks.

"Rhaenys Vissera. Oh, how far you have fallen...."

The door across the chamber opens. Edlidir perks up, and I remain silent and staring at the floor, pretending to be bowing. Zusyn, Goddess of Chaos, Domir, God of Pain, and Ianke, Goddess of Tricks and Illusions, all come in. A blast of air hits my back, and I lean forward, groaning a bit as the Goddess of the Seasons, Ilena, comes in at last.

You'd think that she'd be kind. Nope.

Ilena steps around me, inspecting me closely. Today, she is clothed in the body of an elf, tall, Black, with wide hips and curly brown hair that flows down past them. Her amber eyes flare with power, and I feel the heat of summer in her eyes.

Ilena wears a long, form-fitting silken dress of deep mahogany, and her heels are red like blood, clicking on the marble floor. She squats in front of me, cupping my face in her warm hands. The look on her face is enough to churn my guts.

Ilena is cruel. Far more cruel than you'd expect the Seasonal Goddess to be. She tilts her head, still holding mine in her hands. "Oh, look how pretty you are ...."

"Ilena," says Domir, sounding bored. Of course, the God of Pain would indeed be bored when I'm not in agony for once. Domir is wearing a stout man's skin, and he waddles over to us, holding onto the straps of his suspenders. "Don't play with your food."

"Now, now," says Edlidir. "We are not eating her. Yet."

Ilena scoffs.  "Why ever not? She's a delicious specimen.  Take it from me, I've tasted her before."

Indeed. Ilena once possessed a girl and pretended to be my girlfriend for three years. And in that time .... well. You can imagine.

"Ah, well, of course you remember that. Lovely piece of history, eh, Ilena?" asks Edlidir. He smirks at me again as he rises, walking over to us. He nods at Ianke. "You know what to do."

Ianke steps up, pushing Ilena aside. She is in a nymph's body, her short blue hair tickling my face. Her rich, brown skin is lined with sparkly blue and green tattoos of waves and leaves and vines. Her turquoise eyes glow as she focuses on me.

And I am once again plunged into a strange world between reality and fiction.