SWEET CREATURE [ Ramsay Bolton ]

PROLOGUE

When night fell, the cool temperature creeped into the carriage, chilling the young girl to the bone. The view out of the small window had served as minimal entertainment but now she drew the shutters closed. It wasn't just the temperature that bothered her. The sight of the surrounding dark, rustling trees unnerved her. It wasn't her first night on the road, yet the hair on the back of her neck rose. Fear seeped into her aching chest, along with the cold.

Esme wasn't alone in her sudden terror. The horses, her faithful beasts, neighed restlessly, scuffing the ground as they came to a halt. There was no need for the stop; something had spooked them. No command from the coachman could move them forward; something blocked their path, something the horses sensed as terrible threat.

Darren's instincts weren't as sharp as the animal's, nor as sharp as the lady he was safely escorting. It was his duty to see the trip the rest of the way through, so without further delay, he went to investigate. The carriage shuddered on its wheels, Esme daring to take a peek through the blinds. Darren stepped down to the ground; Esme watched his shiny boots as they trekked through the mud, towards the lumpy silhouette that blocked their path.

She wanted to call him back to the carriage; soon, she will wish she had.

He lay a hand on the horse's neck, trying his best to soothe them as he walked past. The pulse beat rapidly under his palm as the horse reared his head, eyes staring wildly into the darkness. Darren kept his knife out of view, ready to use it on whatever he might find. Perhaps it was a snake slithering by, disturbing the horses. It wouldn't be the first time.

    But it was something much bigger than a snake lying before him. He made out was previously just a grainy, blurry shape into the body of a young woman. She was terrifyingly still, looking as if she had only just died. Her face still retained it's beauty, gleaming pale in the moonlight. She was a beautiful creature with a sweet mouth, and dark curly locks contracting with her smooth, pale skin. She emanated peace and beauty and also something much darker. But reason was too strong for Darren to fight. He couldn't leave such a lady there, not lying unconscious in the road. If life still clung to her, the sooner he could wake her, the better.

"My lady?" He whispered urgently, crouching down beside her. Inside the carriage, Esme tried to spot the two in the darkness but could see nothing, could hear nothing.

At first, there was nothing truly to see. The girl lay unresponsive to Darren, still as a statue, still as a corpse. There was no movement in her chest, no sign of breathing. Panic began to bubble up inside of him and he lay a hesitant hand on her arm. It was still warm.

"My lady?" He tried again, his voice more urgent, this time shaking her gently.

     Brown eyes flashed open to meet his, so sudden that he fell back in surprise. He felt his heart jump to his throat, but he couldn't look away. She held him captive with her gaze as she smiled, and sweetly told him, "Call me Esme."

His brow furrowed at the unusual behavior. "Don't speak," the lady continued softly, pushing herself up off the ground. "Don't say a word. Just get back up on your box and ready the horses. You still have to escort me to our destination." She smiled and giggled and brushed his cheek with her fingers. And Darren found himself complying to her every demand, silently and without thought.

     The two of them walked back towards the waiting carriage, the sound of their steps reaching the girl waiting for her coachman. "Darren?" She called out. "What's happened?" There was no reply, just the falling steps reaching closer and closer.

     And then, silence.

     Her sharp intakes of breath was all she could hear, and darkness enveloped her like a shroud. Body wracking with tremors, she pushed herself away from the door, to the opposite side of the carriage. The sense of safety was only an illusion. Her death, at that moment, was certain.

     The door swung open to reveal only a lady, but when she smiled, a demon took her place. Fangs protruded from her upper jawing, digging into her bottom lip. It's eyes grew black as it's skin mottled in black veins.

      Esme's scream was quickly cut off as the creature sunk it's teeth into the soft skin of her neck. It didn't take long before she succumbed to darkness.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Darren called out.

"Perfectly fine," she responded calmly, dabbing away the leftover blood on her chin. The corpse in her arms fell out of the open door, landing on the ground with a thud. "Please," she continued, shutting the door, "continue with the journey."

     Now, the real Esme took the dead woman's place as a corpse in the road while the monster demurely reclined on the cushions in the carriage. It was time for her best performance yet. For awhile at least, Katerina Petrova was to be Esme, Ward of Roose Bolton.