Twisted Realms (Sequel to Mara: A Charmed Affair)

Prelude

Six years later

“Shit.”

Long red curls caught in the ferocious wind as the army of men leapt in the air. The scent of death was almost too strong to bare, but they charged through the night with one intention in mind, to kill.

“They’re everywhere.” Blaise crouched right there in the middle of the street, pressed his fingers against the gritty earth and cursed aloud, “They got one.”

One of the men hung his head, hair dirty and the color of hay shook as he stood there. Blaise lifted his head and solemnly eyed his fellow comrade in sorrow, and when their eyes met the both of them sighed, they knew that they were too late.

As their heads turned to the side they caught the girl with her hands pressed up against the brick wall of the old torn down club. Blaise rose slowly, snapped his fingers and pointed at her as her dirty hands raked against the walls and nothing but her black dirty curls could be seen from where they stood.

“You think she’s one of them?”

He had hope, all the hope in the world that she was ok. That she hadn’t been cursed with a drop of the accursed venom, but as she turned her head he lost hope.

Black eyes bore into his owns, and a mouth pink and tender like the petals of a rose shaped into an O and she screamed like a hellion.

Blaise leapt back just as her pale skin lit under the moon and her legs crimped high in the air as she jumped. She had the same intent they’d had earlier, to kill.

“I’ll be damned.” Blaise cursed as he fell among the stray of the boxes stacked neatly against the apartments garbage can.

“Blaise!” someone cried out as a blur ran over him. He groaned in pain and rolled over to the side just as something the size of bigfoot squeezed all the breath out of him.

He’d hoped that the men would help him out, but he knew it wasn’t so.

Fucking twits.

She was definitely one of them.

With a force of nearly ten men the young teen grasped Blaise by the neck and howled into his face. Putrid breath likened to the urinals in the boys restroom was enough to knock him out in itself, but he stayed strong.

Her head raised up as she arched her back and prepared to sink her teeth into his flesh and feast. His long hair pulled from where her puny knees pressed the strands against the concrete floor and he cursed again.

C’mon, c’mon.

He felt around in his pockets but it wasn’t there.

Damn it!

Even so just as she brought her head back he grasped her neck, “I really hate to do this miss.”

And he did, she was so young, she had to be at the very least sixteen, but life was gone for her. If he left her there she would only cause more hell and the deaths would be on his hands, his whole army.

She wriggled and cried then, just like she would’ve done if she was a human, “Please sir, please.”

But he couldn’t under good conscious he couldn’t let her live. But her eyes, he hated to look away from her but he had to.

When it was plain to see that he wasn’t letting loose she attempted to knock him out by using her own head.

“Bitch,” he muttered as he pressed his thumbs as he hard as he could into her neck.

She cried, wailed and screamed, but he pressed harder and as he did he twisted her neck and muttered an oath under his breath.

“Kill her!”

Shut up!

It was plain to see that he was the only one willing to get maimed for the well being of the people, but they were right, he was only delaying her death. He closed his eyes and snapped her neck in one clean twist and then again for good measure.

Her body fell to the ground with a thud, “Finish her off.” He ordered to the men standing around looking like a bunch of idiots.

The killing he could do, it was the burning and the scattering of the ashes that he couldn’t bear.

Ironic, right?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His blonde hair could not have been as the white wall he leaned against. Nor could the woman’s face have been any paler as she tugged against the ropes and gasped.

“Such a beautiful woman.”

His long thin fingers stroked at her white cheeks as his eyes took in the beauty of her lustrous black curls. Though the lines underneath her eyes and forehead had begun to grow she’d still maintained her youth.

Her answer flew out of her mouth and landed on his cheek, “Go to hell.”

“Will you be there love?”

Her next answer was to pull against the ropes that held her in place anchored to the ceiling of the massive warehouse.

“You really aren’t a whore, now are you?”

“YOU BASTARD!” She screamed aloud and cried enough for the heavens to flood the earth with whether. She was pained and she was hopeless.

“No..no you aren’t.”

Another woman, lithe and tall with pixie cut black hair strode in, her heels click clacked against the stone floor and she spoke as if she were a few words shy of singing, “What’s to be done?”

The flaxen haired man shrugged as if it was none of his concern and turned away, “Do what you will, she refuses to cooperate.”

And with that he left as the woman’s shrill scream filled the air.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Yes, Blaise kicks ass now. lol don't hate.