Girlie1Bomba — Roleplayer Guild

꧁꧂

~Bradles Worth, Lake Victorine.
~The Forest near Darlington Bridge.

From heated heart and other parts to utter disarming shock.

There she was right at her feet, the daughter of Jonothan Percullin, 'Ouna's sister,' none other than Miss Enna-Leigh.

Instinctively, Mercie drew the dark veils over her face to hide her identity from Enna-Leigh. A heartbeat after that, she scanned the girl to see of what harm had become of her. The springy auburn ringlets that framed her heart-shaped face were damp and matted against her head and there was some patches where it looked as if her hair had been cut. Hands were dirty and fingernails torn and broken yet all fingers were intact. She was barefoot and Mercie could see the bruising, bleeding and swelling of her feet and ankles. The girl’s clothes were torn, dirty and cut, but no blood stains. The redhead held her hands to her face as she wept, but Mercie would see the state of that loverly teen face soon enough.

Seeing the girl’s face was a blessing; unable to see the teen’s green eyes, Mercaidi’s shock ended and the ice in her blood and steel in her nerves returned. A deep inhale and a long drawn out exhale the mix-blood assassin gave and held out her hand to Gianna. She did not even have to glance  over to see the expression upon her sister Underhanded’s face to know what it looked like in this moment. 

Mercie could just feel the haughty smugness and triumphant grin ooze right off and into Mercie’s own face. 

One boot Gia put into Mercie’s hand. The other she whipped at the redhead. The boot bounced off the side of the girl’s head and she let out a sharp but short whimper. One of the stallions snorted in response. Mercie just shook her head.

“You know better than to look at us, child,” the pang in her heart beat against the iron walls that contained it. A handful of auburn hair she grabbed and shoved the teens face towards the well of the carriage and thrust the girl’s nose into her own boot. “I say this once. Once only… Eyes down if you want to see your father, your home, your safety again. Dare you to even cast a split-second glance upon us and you return home with bloody sockets where your eyes once were and with no hands to wipe your tears away. You know better. Now put on your boots, child…”

Mercie gently laid down the other boot. Enna-Leigh sobbed now, shivering and shaking as she slowly put on her fine suede footwear. She fumbled and once more the pang in Mercie’s heart beat against the iron walls that contained it. And once more Mercie grabbed a handful of hair and this time screamed into the teen’s ear.

“I SAID PUT YOUR BOOTS ON! NOW!!”  with more than enough roughness, she tossed the girl’s head back down.  

The girl kept sobbing heavily, shoulders rocking up and down as she hastily put on her boots. When she was done, she knelt before Mercie as snot and spit fell off her chin. Gianna had conditioned Enna well.

“Out.” Mercie growled the word at the teen then she turned to Gianna, “I’ll take it from here. Get changed if you would be so kind, sister. Garb and gear in the case under that bench in the front of the carriage.”

Mercie was so happy that she chose to wear veils, dark ones at that; her orange-yellow eyes burned the hue of murder as she looked Gia over. But in the dark of her mind, she knew Gianna was not to blame… even though that blonde Fae-Elf revelled in being such a tormenting bitch. No. She understood that they were still sisters and they were to follow out their orders to a tee. Orders given out by Matron herself. Oh, she knew who was to blame alright…

“March, child.”

~~~

The pang in Mercie’s heart no longer beat against the iron walls that contained it.

Enna cringed when she heard the wicked blade being slowly drawn from its sheath. As she marched along, she literally had to bite her tongue and stuff both hands nearly into her mouth to keep from screaming. The auburn headed teen could hear the swishing of the blade and she swore that, with each swipe and swish of the blade, she could hear her name called out.

And then the swishing blade stopped and so did she.

“End of the road child,” said Mercie as she reached over to stroke the hair of the girl. It was more than Enna could bear. A scream she let out, but only for a split second. But a split second sealed her fate nonetheless.

“You should not have done that,” said Mercie with the sound of tender regret in her voice, backed by a wall of sheer murderous red intent, “oh no… nonononononono… you should have not. You should have know better than that… 

“Kneel now, child…”

The flat of the blade pressed firmly upon her shoulder and Enna bit down upon her right hand as she wept, trembling and sweating, green eyes bulging wide.

“Do. Not. Make. Me. Ask. Again. Now then—awwwww… that’s a good girl…” at once the girl kneeled and at once a hand stroked her auburn hair. This time the scream was stifled. Now both green eyes closed, scrunching up her face as if trying to hide any traces that this fresh, heart shaped face ever had eyes, “aye… that’s a good girl… ayyyyyyeeeee… such a good girl. Would you like to remain a good girl, Enna-Leigh? Would you like to do that for me?”

The teen nodded. And held her breath.

“Such a good girl. Are you a good girl…?” The flat of the blade tapped twice upon the girl’s shoulder, each time inching closer to that pale, yet heated tender white neck.

The teen nodded. Her breath was still held, but her shoulders rocked up and down with each withheld sob.

“But even good girls make mistakes, do they not? Yet good girls will always pay for their mistakes, will they not? So. Will you pay for your mistakes, child…?”

The sobs could no longer be held back. She had feared for her life ever since she had been kidnapped. But until now, she thought she would have a chance to escape. Until now. Until she made the mistake of crying out. More snot, more spittle. The teen was truly a pathetic, quivering kneeling mess.

“Of course you will. You will not cry out again once my blade tastes you. You will not cry out again, will you…? Now then. I see you have two feet. Which is more important to you… left? …or right?” 

The blade tapped one, then the other. The girl shook with tremendous force each time she was touched by the wicked steel. And now a high pitched whine tried to escape from between the fists that she crammed at her mouth.

Several thudding heartbeats Enna heard in her ears as she cowered, closer to the forest floor, yet still kneeling. Still a good girl.

“Such a good girl you are, you cannot decide which is more important. Fine then. I will decide for you…”

Enna-Leigh braced herself, teeth clenched and eyes scrunched closed tight. The anticipation of having a foot severed was worse than the actual act, she felt. She could hear the swishing of the blade as it was lifted. She could hear it as if it called her name. The blade held in the air set to chop at her legs for several thudding heartbeats too many. She could bear it no longer.

“Neither! Cut from me NEITHER, you wicked BITCH!!!”

Oh, but the awkward silence.

Oh, but how long did such a silence hang in the air.

Oh, but what was that sound that broke such silence.

Was that laughter than fell from the mouth of Mercaidi?

“Such a good girl…” whispered the voice of impending doom into the ear of the teenaged auburn headed girl, “I like you. I do. Such fire. Such spirit. Such indignance  in this moment. At the end of the road and yet still you burn like pyre. 

"I will release you then. You will return to your father…”

A gasp.  A glimmer of hope. A sigh of relief.

“But you will still pay. For all good girls pay in the end. Good-bye, child.”

“What—”

The swipe of the blade was so precise and so swift not only did it slice at the girl without her feeling it, but it cut the words right out of her mouth.

~~~

Mercaidi returned to where Gia stood, a stark white kerchief in her dusky hued hand, blood staining one side of said stark white kerchief.

“If you are ready and changed proper, then we should begin our ride, sister. Night has just fallen and the deed is done. ‘Ouna’ is dead. The girl is gone. And we must move. Now.”

The dark veils shrouded the eyes and expression of the mixed-blood from Gianna, but Gia would note that the breathing of her Underhanded sister was not completely even. It sounded as if Mercie hid the fact that she was winded, or was frustrated…

…or had been crying.

Mercie slipped into the driver’s bench and waited for Gia to sit beside her. And if and when Gia was seated beside Mercie and Gia was ready to take the reigns to get the horses to ride out… it happened.

Ol’ Lady Bear, the spirit that had cursed Mercaidi in the mixed-blood female’s youth was right. It would happen and it was here in their reality now.

The undeniable ripple across their continent hit both magic wielding females as they sat side by side. There was a daemon re-spawned into this world. And Mercaidi did not know how to tell her Fae-Elf sister, Gia, that Mercaidi had to go meet this daemon.

How would she word it? How could she tell Gia that Mercie could not deny Ol’ Lady Bear. If the ancient spirit said she had to go, then she had to go. The demands of Matron to ‘deal with the Duke’s snubbing’ had to wait. How do you deny the will of Matron? But the compulsion to sate Ol’ Lady Bear’s demands was too over bearing and Ol’ Lady Bear was telling Mercie that she had to delay her orders to go meet this daemon.

And kill it.
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