SHE EATS THEM .

her words are a painful reminder.     held against him, against his throat like the razor sharp edge of a blade, like the executioner’s axe held high above his head, for he wished to forget, but he can’t.   unfortunately, he had the information she needed.   “ i have. ”   it was unbearable, saying such a thing, but it was true.   the white one remembers the contracts, and the people who deserved death — at least that was what he liked to tell himself.   the wolf growls, and sinks his teeth into the prey, no matter the size, or the strength.   geralt’s mare then gallops closer to the figure hidden in penumbra, hooves crunching the leaves and shrubbery of the forest.   if he was going to take a contract, right then and there, he wanted to at least look at her in the eyes, for she knew who he was, but he had never heard such voice—   her heartbeat was also incredibly calm, far calmer than anyone he had the chance to haggle with.   “ it’s not every day i get someone who’s looking to murder someone who’s still alive. ”   eyes scan her figure as he’s closer, hair hidden by dark cowl, amber hues gleaming in the darkness.

she  may  have  expected  him  to  revel  in  the  chance  to  capture  or  kill  something  that  was  aware  it  was  a  monster.  something  with  the  predilections  to  choose  whether  it  was  good  or  evil.  or  anything  at  all.  the  choice  that  none  of  the  beasts  or  monsters   he  killed  had.  so  the  turn  perplexed  the  madam.  she  would  kill  a  thousand  humans  if  it  meant  sparing  one  beast.  but  she  had  always  been  disillusioned  by  humans  and  their  pitiful  lack  of  impulse  control.  their  over - emotional  reactions,  and  their  simplicity.   she  despised  them.  and  it  showed  in  ancient  texts,  songs  of  lore.  it  is  why  her  palace  grounds  lay  nearly  empty,  and  has  been  this  way  for  a  long  time.    when   he  rides  up  beside  her,  she  stops  her  horse  short.  better  to  look  at  him,   feel  the  gravitational  pull  of  his  entire  being.  he  was  harder  to  read  than  most,   but  she  could  feel  the  power  that  surged  beneath  his  skin.   in  that  moment  she  envied  him.    

they all said the same thing, over, and over, and over again.     in their eyes, he was nothing more than one of those beasts, teeth bared, eyes gleaming in the darkness of the woods, ready to attack, slay and slaughter those they deemed fight.   witchers were greedy mutant murderers, nothing less, nothing more.   they called him ‘butcher’ for a reason.   “ i kill only when i’m paid. ”   sentence is strained, as if rehearsed multiple times.   “ not all beasts who lurk are harmful.   some are simply hiding from man. ”   eyes dart over the other’s shoulders, as if to make sure noone was following her.   ears twitch, to try and capture any sudden noise, any branches cracking.   nothing.   “ but i’m guessing you’re not here to take a look at my bestiary. ”

❝ 𝒚𝒐𝒖  𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘  𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚  𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒔  𝒘𝒐𝒏’𝒕  𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌  𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒆. ❞

eyes  break  from  her  companion,   rolling  to  the  ceiling  of  the  room.   her breath,  which  was  as  steady  as  the  candle  flame  that  sat  before  her  ---  suddenly  exhausted.  the  flame  went  wild,  and  so  did  the  light.  until  madam  daji  moved  away,  lounging  further  onto  the  sofa  she  positioned  herself  on.    ❛  𝑚𝑦  𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠  𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛’𝑡  𝑡𝑜  𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒  𝑦𝑜𝑢,      but  some  of  what  i  speak  of  aren’t  mere  stories.    𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑦  𝑎𝑟𝑒  𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝘩𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑒𝑠.  𝑎𝑛𝑑  𝑠𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡  𝑏𝑒  𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛  𝑙𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡𝑙𝑦.   ❜

❝  𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆  𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍  𝒚𝒐𝒖  𝒂  𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓  𝒕𝒐𝒐.   ❞

the  smallest  of  smiles  paints  the  imagination  wild  with  many  shades  of  red.  dripping  with  a  mirage  of  tales,    spun  from  every  corner  of  the  world.  𝒉𝒐𝒘  𝒂  𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓  𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏  𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒔  𝒉𝒆𝒓  𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒘  𝒊𝒏  𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅.   and  storm  clouds  never  cease  to  bring  terror  to  a  world  far  below.  her  castle  touches  the  sky,   and  so  does  she  ---  every  night  when  the  rest  of  them  try  to  lay  their  heads  and  sleep.  but  she  has  poisoned  all  those  she’s  come  in  contact  with.    𝒔𝒉𝒆  𝒊𝒔  𝒑𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆,  𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉,  𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆,  &&  𝒘𝒂𝒓.  deceiving  all  with  the  beautiful  exterior  of  a  temple,  but  with  the  interior  so  saturated  with  hate  ---  that  sometimes  it  spills  out  of  her  mouth.  a  black,   sickening  tar.       

❛  𝑑𝑜  𝑦𝑜𝑢  𝑠𝑒𝑒  𝑎  𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟  𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒  𝑦𝑜𝑢 ?   𝑑𝑜  𝑦𝑜𝑢  𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑚  𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟  𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠  𝑡𝑜  𝑏𝑒  𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 ?   𝑖  𝘩𝑜𝑝𝑒  𝑦𝑜𝑢  𝑑𝑜.   ❜

𝒉𝒎,   𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒎𝒆.   𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒎𝒆.

a  look  of  feigned  displeasure  crossed  her  face  at  the  companion’s  words.  a  subtle  roll  of  the  eyes  to  follow,   and  then  she  opened  her  stern  mouth  to  speak.    ❛  𝒉𝒐𝒘  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕  𝒇𝒐𝒓   𝒚𝒐𝒖.   ❜  impatience  wears  thin,   loose  ---  like  arms  crossed  over  her  chest.  ❛  𝑤𝑒  𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡  𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒  𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒  𝑓𝑜𝑟  𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟  𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠. ❜