Three Steps From Hell, Pt. 1

250 years ago... 

I stare down at my drink, swirling the contents around. I tune out the ruckus of the tavern around me. My mind is heavy with the weight of this new reality. 

My sire is dead. I murdered him. I'm finally free from his psychotic reign. I should feel relieved, happy even, but I'm not. Revenge didn't taste as sweet as I had hoped it would. It just left me feeling emptier than I was before.

I remember the moment with vivid detail. The lust rolling off of him in waves as I lured him in with my charm and wiles. The look on his face as I went from kissing him to punching my hand through his ribcage. The feel of his heart pulsing under my fingertips. The sweet pain flashing across his face as I ripped his heart out. And then the stillness of his demise.

I felt on top of the world in that moment, but the high was short-lived. What am I? I'm nothing but a weapon. The monster he created.

I throw back the drink, grimacing as it burns a path down my throat. 

My head snaps to the side as a man takes the seat beside me. I'm about to tell him to piss off, but what he says stops me in my tracks. "Ah, the lovely Inferna Daughtry, I presume?"

My body stiffens as alarm fills me, but I stand my ground. My gaze slides over his form, giving him a once over. He's a youngish looking wood elf, if his coppery skin and long pointed ears are any indication. Dark furs drape over his toned chest, and he definitely has a height advantage over me. I spy a dagger on his right hip, just before my gaze meets his again.

Setting down my drink, I lean back and arch a brow at him. "Maybe I am, maybe I am not. What's it to you?"

A wide toothy grin breaks across his features, making him look almost boyish. He chuckles. "Oh, you are definitely her. Your reputation precedes you, m'lady." He gives me a mock bow.

My lips press together in a thin line. My reputation? Has the news of Luther's demise already made its rounds? Great, that's just terrific. "What do you want?" I spit out the words, my voice dripping with bitterness.

I can feel indignation rise up within me at the amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh I don't want anything. I am merely looking into a matter for my Lordship. He said 'Find the one who killed the scourge Luther and give them a big ol' kiss for me.'"

My nose wrinkles, which causes him to burst out in laughter. "I'm joking, I'm joking. Well, about the kiss part anyways. My Lord did in fact want me to thank you on his behalf for taking out that monstrosity. We expect great things from the Daughter of Hell."


With that he gave me a wink and got up to leave. I jump to my feet, calling out to him, "Wait! You've got to give me more than that!" 

He stops mid stride, the corner of his lips twitching up as he turns back to face me fully. My breath catches in my throat as his brown eyes turn to a blood red, and as he closes the distance between us, I can make out a strange, dark emblem etched into the surface of his eyes.

"What are you?" I breath out, taking a small step back as he stops before me. I can feel the raw power radiating off of him. He leans down, his hot breath on my face. 

"My name is Pestis. And when the time is right, the Darkling will find you." With that he leaves me. I'm tempted to follow him, but my feet remain glued to the floor. This all doesn't sit right with me. Who are these Darkling, and what do they want with me? How do they even know who I am in the first place? 

Something in my gut says that there's only hell to come...