A/N : If I'm not using ' I ' or ' me ', its not Cathellyn. Kind of like a third person view.
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She trashes her hands wildly, finding something to cling to. Her breathing is getting heavier by the minute and her body is drenched in sweat, though her eyes are still closed. Her fingers grope at the ragged blanket underneath her, making holes.
Beads of sweat are trickling down her forehead as she breathes heavily as if it is the last bits of air she will ever get. She arches her back and finally swung open her eyes, releasing her from the nightmares she often gets.
She lets out a loud gasp as she drops her body back. Her chest falls up and down rapidly from the heavy breathing. Tears start to roll onto her cheeks and she did her best not to make a sound. She sits up, bringing her chest to her knees.
Biting on her own arm, she muffles the cries and gasps, tears still streaming out of fear. She doesn't stop biting until she feels the taste of metallic blood touch her tongue.
Pulling away, she reaches under her bed and takes out a rag, putting pressure on the bitemark to stop the bleeding. Her room is veiled with moonlight, allowing her to see her sister who is facing the wall, sleeping quietly, her body rising up and down slightly.
She lets out a sigh, relieved she didn't wake her sister. It's not the first time she has these type if dreams.
Memories of her father's execution. Death himself coming to claim her life. She tries to shrug it off but she cannot deny that this is her greatest fear.
She doesn't want to let her flowing brown hair turn grey.
She doesn't want her soft skin turns wrinkly and coarse.
She doesn't want to admit that one day she would die and leave her body many call perfection.
She closes her eyes tightly, dropping tears as she puts a hand on her forehead, trying to calm herself. Biting on her lips, she eases herself from the bed quietly, eyes on her sister for any signs of her waking up. She drops the rag to the wooden floor and kicks it under her bed soundlessly.
Grabbing a pouchful of money, a dagger, and an oversized robe, she slips into it and pulls on the hood. The hood covers most of her face but gives her sight. Without waking anyone, she slips out of the house.
She promised herself she wouldn't do this again but it gives her relief. Peace even. She follows the snowy path she knows until she arrives in a hidden space not far from the market, covered from the moonlight but her eyes adjust quickly.
Though it is in the blind hours of the morning, few men are already there, calling to her to buy whatever things there are selling.
She ignores all of them and continues deeper into the space before finding the seller she was looking for. He was sitting on a ragged blanket, his stuff around him ready to be sell.
The seller takes a sip from a wooden mug which she knows is rum. She lets out a fake cough and he brings his head up to her. A sly smile covers his face.
" I haven't seen you in a while, Laila, " the seller says with a gruff tone, putting down the wooden mug. " The usual? "
Laila nods and the seller scavenge through his things until he finds a pouch of gunpowder. She smiles at the sight of gray powder and the vision of what she's going to do.
She throws him the money and he gives her the gunpowder.
She scurries out of the hidden space and towards the edge of the Outland, where she knows nobody will find her. On her way there, she collects a few firewoods and not too long she arrives. She pulls out the dagger and hurries to find a victim.
After a while, she finds a cat in the bushes. Its fur is orange and it looks well fed. Laila licks her upper lip hungrily as she quietly makes her way to the cat.
After she is close enough, she grabs the cat by the neck and slams it down to the ground. The cat lets out a screech and frantically pull out its claws and begin to scratch Laila's hand, making scars and blood begin to trail out of it and drop to the snow.
Laila watches her blood drop and she feels a burning inferno inside.
The sight of blood always excited her.
A sickening smile covers her face from ear to ear, her eyes widen as she takes her dagger and puts it between cat's mouth. She lets out a cackle before pushing the dagger forward, cutting the poor cat's head in half.
The cat lets out a painful screech before it's head tumbles onto the now red snow. It's blood splatter onto the white blanket and some of it met Laila's face.
She watches with a smile as she marvels her work. The jaw is still intact with the body, revealing the cat's lower teeth, tongue and pouring blood. She throws away the dagger and pulls out the gunpowder.
Pouring it into the cat's bloodied throat, she makes a line of it away from the carcass.
She starts a small fire and takes a branch before setting one end glowing. Dropping it onto the end of the line, the fire follows along with the gunpowder to the cat's body.
Laila watches in awe as the fire reaches the cat and it explodes into a thousand pieces, like a firework, covering the ground with burnt organs. Though it supposes to be sickening, it only flames the fire inside of her.
She holds her sickening smile and she lets out a hysterical laugh in unison of the gore she made that night.
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Sorry for this chapter. I was feeling a little lunatic when I wrote this soo.. yeahh.. anyway thanks for reading and sorry if it is too short. Really wanted to get this chapter out. The girl in that picture is Laila. Thanks again to SakuraWilliam for providing it! And one more thing.
School is coming. * ques inception music * ( at least for my country, anyway :p )
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The Winter Born [COMPLETED]
FantasyCathellyn Anders is born in the Outlands during a night of winter- a birth that is rare in her land, doomed to be a peasant ever since she stepped into the world. Though the fate was inevitable, she fought and manage to gain knowledge of hunting fro...