The Eidolon of Godwyn

Prologue

"I'll kill him! I swear I'll do it this time!" Her voice was hard to decipher, high and full of tears.

"You can't do it." It was her voice again, yet different, this one was sweeter less choked than before. It didn't contain the rage or hatred of the first voice, but carried all the sorrow.

"I can." The girl stood staring at herself in the mirror, a large kitchen knife in her hand. She gazed into her own eyes, crystals of water gushing from them, her mind haunting her. Her eyes were green with bursts of hazel around the iris. They were full of anger, fear, despair. All at what he'd done. Done out of love. She scanned herself, her eyes coming to rest on a brilliant necklace. It shimmered as it hung around her neck. Solid gold, the chain twinkled even then, in the dim light of the attic. Her eyes continued down, studying the blue sapphire that was encased at the end of the expensive jewelry. It rested on her undeveloped chest, standing out against the white gown she wore. It was silk, the loveliest smoothest silk. Creamy white, but let off a gold twinkle, when caught in the right light.

The beams of the moon sneaked in past the shards of the window.

"Are you really gonna do it?" the sweeter voice asked.

She stared for a second at her mother's stone hanging around her neck, then at the dress. The golden in lain silk glistening, though dimmer than her tears, it still shone meekly. She continued to survey herself in the mirror. The dress wasn't made for her, she couldn't quite fill it yet, not at the age of eleven. Not with those hips. These hips. This tainted body.

Feelings swirled inside her, a hurricane of sadness, confusion, rage the list went on. She looked at her pelvis, the lovely white dress stained red on the front, the flecks of gold ruined by specks of blood, her blood. Her mother's priceless heirloom ruined, how she wished that was the only thing taken from her. The girl's feelings were a chaotic storm, and revenge was the eye.

"Yes.-" She gritted her teeth. "I'm gonna kill him once and for all."

The girl walked through the dark corridors, no longer questioning if she'd go through with it. She knew she wanted to, knew there was no going back. It was odd, tonight was supposed to be a celebration, a time to remember and rejoice in splendid memories. Instead it was a nightmare. One she'd have to live with the rest of her life.

Music echoed from the dance halls, chatter and laughter swarmed her, like angry bees. The whole town had come together under her parent's roof for the occasion, and yet no one was there to save her. She walked past a drunken couple who didn't seem to notice her or the twelve inch chef's knife. She hadn't even bothered to conceal it, which was quite fortunate for her since she hadn't actually stopped to think about what would happen if someone saw her. She decided then and there that she would cut down anyone who tried to keep her from her retribution. Not even the police officers in the other room dressed in masks, enjoying the masquerade ball, would stop her. Nothing would.

She crept into the room the lowly vermin often fell asleep after his soiree's; the butler being left to see the guests out the doors. She glanced at the bed in his room and shuddered, a knot twisting in her stomach. She almost threw up. She had cried for hours after it happened, trembling in her own tears. She couldn't give away her position though, the time for remorse was over. She would never feel that way again. She couldn't allow it or anything else to happen. Enough had been endured, now was the time for revenge.

She cautiously tip-toed her way around the luxurious arm chair where the boozer often slept, her knife held high. Nothing could stop her, not a thought crossed her mind about putting the blade down. The young girl would only move forward; her own death wouldn't even be enough to halt her efforts. She swore she'd haunt him the rest of her undead life if she had too.

The knife clanged to the floor, wringing in the darkness as it collided with its twin below. Grief and anger gripped her. Her prey lay head tilted back limply in his chair. A crimson stream trickling from the ribbon across his throat. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes out of frustration, her father was already dead.