deepundergroundpoetry.com
Reign of Darkness
- Reign of Darkness -
It was past the hour of noon's time, and the forest was dense and filled with shadows that flitted here and there as if to escape the sight of the gazing sun, which with each passing hour slipped towards the looming certainty of a gilded-tinged afternoon amid the surrounding autumn colors intermixed as they were with tall pines of evergreen. A solitary man was walking with his steed along various paths and trails through the woodland, for it would have been unwise for him to ride along such narrow trails that had many a low hanging branch or several that could unseat a rider with sudden violence. Like as not, twilight was soon to come, but it was not something one looked forward to in these parts. The man was a fellow of average height, and was rather lean but not without some measure of strength both obvious and of more subtle qualities as well. He wore the attire of a Puritan, and he hailed originally from the rather far and distant Salem that now seemed a world behind him. He had left his home because of the various events that unfolded there that made him convinced that the entire town was wholly possessed of an evil that took root more in those who persecuted the supposed “witches” that they sought to rid their community of than in the actual victims of such persecution themselves. And rest assured, those accused of witchcraft during that time were quite innocent of the charges arrayed against them! Such was this man's realization and though he could do nothing to save those innocents from the madness and hysteria that led once religious and righteous men and women to become bloodthirsty monsters in the pursuit of what they called “justice”... he had made a solemn vow to God that he would never be so powerless to save another, ever again. In his travels, he had done many good deeds and valiant ones, if not foolhardy at times as well. But at least he had come to be able to live with a clear conscience, quite unlike those in the hypocritical community he had long since left behind him. He had first after leaving there tried living in other Puritan villages and towns, and he had decided ere long that surely what had occurred in Salem must have left him with an ill taste for his fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Yet, he kept to his faith even if some of them did not always do so rightly. They were not all wicked folk, to be sure, and many were much like he was in many respects... but his time in Salem had driven him into a state of mistrust of his fellows, and that in turn produced in him a desire to go forth into the world to see if there might out there be a place wherein he could feel more truly at home. And he wandered far, and wide, in places known to civilized men and places more savage and wild by far. And by degrees, it was fated that the Holy Spirit or something just as profound had moved him to end up in this place, in the distant land wherein he now made his way. Such was his tale, and his life had made him somewhat quiet and at times grim and dark of humor. He was pallid and black haired, with fierce icy eyes that did shine with a certain light whenever he spoke of his faith to others, which was passingly rare as time had gone on. His wide brimmed hat shaded him in the warm seasons from the sun, and in the autumn it did at certain hours of the afternoon cast his face into shadow. He drew his dark cloak about him, looked at the trail before him, and cursed silently at how winding and wild this part of these woods actually was. Though he disliked supposedly civilized men and their at times wicked ways, he liked far less places of this sort wherein a person could become lost and at the mercy of things more terrible than wicked men. He kept a hand on the hilt of his blade, sheathed at his side as it was, and his intense eyes were ever on the watch for movement. His steed was as black as his garments, and as silent as he himself was, as the man and his horse went along. He chanced to come upon, ere long, a clearing in the woods and in that clearing was a modest campsite with a small fire lit at the center of it by the woman who sat upon a log in front of the blaze, trying to warm herself in the chill of the middle of the autumn season. She had a wild mane of black hair, dark brooding eyes, and was attired in a rather plain looking gray dress with a thick shawl covering her shoulders. A fur cloak lay on the ground nearby, for the night was colder than the day by far during this time of the year, and the cloth of the woman's tent flapped a bit in the breeze as a sudden wild gust blew through the forest and rattled the leaves of the trees with a ghostly breath. It was an ill omen, the Puritan thought to himself as he approached the camp and decided to run the risk of asking this wild looking woman if he might share her fire for a brief span... before moving on again.
As he approached, the woman asked him curiously: “I see you are a foreigner to our land... and by the way you are dressed, I could only assume you hail from either England or one of its' colonies. Would I be correct in making that assumption?” and the cheerless looking Puritan said in answer to her inquiry: “I can only assume you have met others like me before, then, for aye you are correct in what you say.” She then stated in a matter of fact manner: “It is an uncommon style of dress in this land, and the faith you and your brethren cling to is even more uncommon in these godless parts.” He seemed grave in his concern at this revelation, and said unto her in reply: “Godless you say! That bodes ill when most all of civilized Europe is Christian in so far as I have seen in my journeys. Why should this land be as you do claim it to be?” And the woman's eyes went wide as she swallowed hard before explaining: “This is a place far enough east that the beliefs and morality that prevail elsewhere are easy enough to discard and not bring misfortune upon those who do so. Who shall say this is right or wrong when those who make the law in many of these lands have assuredly pacts with the Devil?” The Puritan tied his horse to a tree nearby and sat down on the log next to the woman, who beckoned for him to be seated thus. He asked of her: “The Devil, is it? I have heard such talk before, and found those who claimed it was so to be oft purveyors of prejudice and advocates of diabolical violence. How am I to know that all is as you claim it to be and not the work of a hysterical mind?” The woman laughed and then said with a touch of grim humor to her words: “Oh, and here I thought you would be the zealous one, if your brothers and some of your sisters in Christ have been anything to go by! But you seem different than they. Oh, if only I in my heathen heart had been more righteous as you think me to be... I'd not be an outcast and traveler of wild paths today. I came hither because I was drawn by this land's abandonment of God! Not because I am what some might call a goodly woman. I, have been many things over the years, sir! I used to be a thief, sometimes I have been a whore, and I have killed as well. And never was I sorry for anything that I did, and so why would God care about such as I? Nay, it is better that I exist here, beyond woods and mists far from the sight of more decent folk! But... there is wickedness, which is my lot in life to have indulged in, and then there is evil. I have discovered that those who govern this land are evil, and that there are powers at work here which derive from the darkest regions of Hell itself.” Through the humor in her tone, her last statement was more grave by far and it chilled the Puritan's heart straight through. He said unto the woman: “My name, in case that matters to you woman, is Malachi Blake. Pray, tell me your name so that I might know with whom I share this fire at present?” And she told him in answer to this: “My name is Vanda, and I have no other name than that either of such a one as gifted me from my family or otherwise. It was not always so, but that is how it must be now due to the pacts I have made.” And this concerned Malachi greatly! He asked her: “Pacts? What sort of pacts... tell me not that you are speaking of Devil's pacts or some other abominations!” to which she said in a serious manner: “I shall refrain from telling of them at all, good sir... were I to give voice to it, then evil would befall me. There are some secrets which must be kept, be they good or evil in their nature.” And the Puritan said to her in a resigned way after sighing audibly: “It is beyond my ability to know what is in your heart, Vanda, and if you be of good or evil nature yourself. I shall simply have to trust you at present, unless you at some point give me reason not to.” And she smiled and chuckled before agreeing: “That is sensible, I have to admit... more sensible than some would be in your present position. What brings you to these woods, Malachi Blake? This is not a place where people journey lightly.” He said in answer to this: “I have no reason precisely for journeying hither, I was looking for a shortcut of sorts through some of the surrounding countryside to avoid some of the local towns which had an ill feeling about them when I did by chance ride through one or two of them. I had an incident in one of the towns whereby I had to flee in a bit of a hurry... and this seemed to me the best way to achieve both my escape and my search for a shortcut.” Vanda looked worried after hearing the man say this, and she inquired: “What sort of an incident are you speaking of? I should like to know if I am to expect trouble from you chancing upon my fire... though to be honest with you, most avoid my company if they can help it.” Malachi's face did appear deep in thought for a bit... but then he revealed the reason he had to flee in such a mighty haste.
He said as follows: “It was never my intention to get involved in local affairs, but there was a place in one of the towns I spoke of previously, and therein was set up at the town's center a place devoted fully to the torture and execution of criminals or so it seemed at first glance. But tied to a whipping post was a pair of children, a little boy and a little girl whose backs were covered in horrid lash marks that bled in a painful way that showed they had just recently been lashed. They also appeared to have suffered a beating, the both of them. Some of the grown men and women tied, chained or shackled in that place... they were dead, and some in grisly fashion. I shall spare you the details of what mine eyes beheld there but it was a sight straight out of Hell itself I swear to God Almighty! I felt compelled the untie the two children from the whipping post, and to bear them to the house of their parents which lay in one of the surrounding villages beyond that town's outskirts. I did this quietly and securely and delivered them to their rightful place without incident, and with no one knowing I had been their deliverer. But when I did return within sight of the town I spied a party of angry men who noticed the missing children. They had begun a door to door search for them, and fearful for the family's safety I returned to their home to tell them to leave with great haste and to seek more tolerable climes if they could. They had family in a distant land, and I gave them coin to aid them in their exodus. I escorted them to the border of this land and that was the end of the matter. But someone must have seen me back in the town, because posters were put up describing me and a bounty had been issued for my arrest. In doing God's work, I had thus become a fugitive from the local idea of justice, evidently a severe miscarriage thereof. I was careful to not be pursued as I made my way to this forest, and no one followed me into its' confines. Be at ease!” And Vanda said to him after that: “The place you describe is truly an evil domain, for the man who so rules over that town and all the towns hereabout is said to be possessed by a spirit from the Abyss itself and as such a fiend he has a penchant for torture and a taste for blood that is unsurpassed. His wife, so the tales claim, is even worse than he and a monster more horrid you will not find even in the darkest of tales. I told you this was a godless place! Your own eyes have put the truth to my words. But where are you going to go now? If I were you, I should flee these lands and seek safer roads elsewhere.” But the Puritan was steadfast in his resolve to do the right thing as he saw it, and he said unto the wild woman: “I shall most certainly not flee... not whilst those two devils are in power here. For though these lands be godless indeed, I shall bring the judgment of God unto any who think that it is well to torture and to shed the blood of innocent children. This pair you speak of are clearly barbarians, and I shall teach the both of them that though this land is godless, there is one messenger of Heaven who walks within it. I intend in this instance to be that messenger, and my blade shall free this land of at least this dark evil.” Malachi clutched the hilt of his rapier tightly as he spoke, as if he was containing a great deal of anger. The woman said to him in reply to his brave words: “You will go such a road alone, Puritan! I cannot ever leave these woods, lest I incur the wrath of the spirits that dwell here unseen. And, the last time I passed through that town, I was picked up at a tavern and arrested for failing to donate money the evil ones and their hellish causes. I was taken to the place you freed those children from, and before the fell eyes of a jeering crowed that looked like a barely contained mod of ravening beasts... the men who had arrested me in the employ of the town guards did ravish me in brutal fashion before the eyes of all who looked on. Then, men from the crowd were allowed to do with me as they wished, and after that I was cast from the town with stones being thrown at me for added cruelty. This was long, long before I did come to be as I am today... and now I find my solitude in this forest to be a blessing rather than a curse. At least here, the beasts are obvious! For they do not walk about in the guise of men.” After hearing the woman's sad tale, Malachi asked her: “Where do the two devils make their abode? That is wither I am bound next.” And the wild woman told him: “You seek a dark fortress built up within a fortified village that was long ago enclosed within high encircling walls in order to protect the fortress further. It lies a full two hours distance by foot and less by carriage or horse from that wicked town we both fled from. The village became a playground for all manner of wickedness and horror, and the great tower that is at the heart of the fortress is said to be guarded by more than just men of arms in service to vile masters.”
She would not speak the names or titles of they who ruled from that fortress, for fear of drawing their gaze by supernatural means to her solitary forest home. But Vanda had given the Puritan a vivid sort of description to go by of the place wherein they dwelt, and that made it a simple matter to find the awful fortress that so blighted and bedeviled the surrounding countryside with such cruel fervor. He thought, to himself, as he rode forth under the cover of night, having rested for a span in Vanda's camp before so setting forth, that it was surely not going to be an easy matter to infiltrate such a den of darkness. But if there was a way, then he was assured that God would see fit to lead him to discover it. He prayed as he rode forth, and hoped that his faith would grant him victory once again as it had so often in times past. He was not a young man any longer, but he was a great swordsman and a wise scholar as well. He had a dark side he liked not, and which he fought ever to contain... and sometimes it seemed to him that he was drawn to darkness like a moth is drawn at times against its' will to a consuming flame. He rode the full distance by horse from the town to the fortress and then he realized why he had not seen it the last time he was at that twisted community... the entire place was half hidden behind a section of very high mountains, with a winding road leading past a crossroads to the front gates of the fortress's encircling walls, those same which contained the hellish village Vanda had told him of. Malachi passed by that crossroads, and beheld in its' center an inverted wooden cross nailed unto the massive trunk of a rather enormous tree that at present was bereft of its' leaves and thus of a somewhat skeletal appearance. On the cross was nailed a woman who wore the garb of a nun, and an iron spike had been driven into the tenderest of places between her legs, from which the head of the spike protruded. Blood covered all of the cross and was pooled upon the ground beneath it. From the branches of the tree, the thickest ones, hung the corpses of countless men and woman, and children also. Whole families seemed to be hung in such a morbid display, and carrion birds were busy pecking at these peoples' decaying remains. Such a shock was the sight of this display of depravity, that it caused the Puritan to make the sign of the cross as he rode past. He vowed to make the authors of such a horror pay for their crimes, but first he had to find a way into that fortress! Preferably without alerting anyone to his presence since there was, after all, the matter of that bounty and the fact the those within the fortress most certainly had a fairly decent and accurate description of him to go by. If he was caught, he would be shown no mercy by any means. There was a craggy cliff that ran along the fortress's outer walls on the far side, out from the side of the mountain, and if a man could climb it then they could perhaps by chance gain access to the tops of the walls... which appeared only sparsely patrolled by guards, some of which appeared almost on the verge of becoming sleepy from their long vigil. It was the least dangerous prospect, and Malachi had climbed far more difficult cliffs in his younger years. He had some extra rope, in his steed's saddle bags... and, a grappling hook he could attach to it as needed. A dense forest ran all along the countryside just across the road from the fortress and the crossroads, and before he could be spotted by anyone in the fortress he rode off the road and then into those woods where once he was well out of sight he made certain to first secure the animal to a tree and then he prepared his rope and hook for the climb that he intended to embark upon. He circled around quietly until he was behind a section of the cliff, and it was a section that was far from the sight of the fortress guards. He had left his hat back in the saddlebags, since that would only have fallen off of his head during the impending climb in any case. His long but carefully combed hair was as black as night itself, and it was under the cover of the night's shadows that he did begin to make the climb that perhaps other men would not have dared to undertake. His black attire so aided him in remaining undetected against the dreary darkness of the rocky face that he ascended ever so carefully, his sturdy gloves kept his hands from becoming chafed or burned from the rope as he did grip it tightly whilst climbing ever steadily upward. First to one stony ledge, after which he would then retrieve the hook and hurl the hook up to the next... and then to another, until at last he was at the top of the cliff at its' flattest point rather than where it began to slope either further up towards the height of the mountains, or farther down towards the ground by the road. He kept close to the clifftop, careful to not stand up just in case the guards on the top of the walls were a lot more vigilant than they appeared.
As he had noticed from below, the clifftop was several feet higher than the fortress's encircling walls, and it would not be difficult to clamber down unto those walls from where Malachi was right now. But he waited whilst the guards walked their patrol routes until he could be certain they would neither hear nor see him doing so. Once it was clear, he lowered himself down unto the wall with care and then after doing so he dove for cover behind some crates and barrels whilst the guards walked on past once more. Then, he crept towards one of the towers that dotted the top of the wall, and once within he looked out one of the windows to see that the wall ran all the way to the mountainside, and that a section of it led straight into the side of the main fortress itself so that the wall guards could easily enter and leave to go on their patrols and thus not have to disturb anyone in the village below. At present, the guards were all either off on the other side of the wall, at the main gatehouse that allowed one to enter the village from the road, or otherwise occupied so as not to be paying any attention. If he was to gain entrance into the fortress proper, now was the time... or perhaps, failing to act now, then never. He had left his rope and hook behind back at the clifftop, certain he could find a way out of the fortress and back to the road as soon as this assassination he had planned was finished. Such a massive place surely had to have secret ways, and if such ways existed here then he would need to find them and make use of them. But first, he had to get to where the two rulers were and dispatch them to their graves. Sneaking past a couple of groups of drunken guards who were barely in their right minds, he soon was within the open archway that led into the fortress. No doors impeded his entrance, thought that told him that other impediments must surely be awaiting him soon after entering. From the village below, he heard cries and moans, all manner of shrieks and screams as well, and the laughter of men and women. He did not want to see the kind of monstrous sports that were likely being indulged in down there. He was certain the sight of any such thing would offend him greatly and only serve to make his wrath all the greater. So he ignored all the windows and arrow slits that met his gaze as he walked along a wide hallway. It was wide, and had columns along both sides of it, and thick curtains and draperies covering the walls. He kept closest to them, and when guards approached he hid behind them so as not to be seen. By some miracle, he had thus far remained undetected. At the far end of the hall was an oaken door with a round metal ring to open it by. He pulled the ring and opened the door as silently as he could. It creaked a bit, and that did make him jump for fear of someone hearing... but God surely was with him on that occasion, for not a soul had heard that creaking despite it to him seeming as shrill as a cat's cry. “God be praised!” He thus exclaimed in his mind, as he climbed up several flights of steps beyond that door. Two stairways were there, one which allowed one to access the fortress's upper levels, and one that allowed a descent unto the lower ones. He reasoned that if one was to access the great tower at the fortress's heart, then it was wise to search the upper levels first for the means to reach it. He heard the sounds of guards below, and was grateful he had not picked the lower stairway. The upper steps took him to a wide chamber that did have the look of a kind of gallery to it. But this one contained no art, nor any statuary to be displayed! It had within it the skins of men, women, and children nailed to its' wooden walls. And on smooth and graceful looking marble pedestals in between where the skins were on display, were human skulls that still had blood upon some of them. The scrape marks on the skulls, were indicative of the flesh having been removed from them with a surgeon's precision. It was a horrible, ghastly sight and the fact that a great many children had been victims of the flaying knife... left Malachi with a sick feeling in his belly. “No child deserves to suffer such a fate as this! This is perverse beyond all imagining.” he thought as he silently made his way to the door on the far end of the gallery, a look of obvious disgust plain upon his otherwise stern looking face. He could hear two men talking behind the door, and he listened and tried to hear what passed between them. All he could make out was that the “Master” awaited a report, and that a guard was late to deliver it and needed to hasten to a stairway nearby. He could not be sure just how nearby that might be, and suddenly he could hear one of the two men departing and the other reaching for the handle of the door behind which he himself was busy listening. He cursed silently, as he leapt back from the door... there was no place to hide... whilst a guard entered the gallery after that.
The guard noticed the Puritan and drew his rapier in order to attack. Malachi had drawn his already, as soon as he heard the door open, and was upon the guard at once... their blades meeting in a clash of metal that was thankfully not too loud but enough of a noise that the Puritan was certain they would be heard fighting if this duel was not finished quickly. He stabbed at the man's wrist, causing the guard to drop his blade, and with a lunging thrust Malachi then ran the man through and nearly finished him. As soon as the guard was mortally wounded, he collapsed unto the floor in a heap and began to whimper in agony. That would not do! Malachi stabbed him through the throat to put him to death, and now only a few desperate gurgling sounds did come from the guard as he breathed his final bloody, rasping breath. The Puritan then dragged the dead guard's body to one side of the room and hurried through the door as he crossed through several hallways, corridors, and chambers searching for whatever stairway it was as would lead him to that mysterious “Master” that other man had spoken of. Sure enough, the sound of guards could be heard back towards the direction of the gallery, and by the sound of it the guards had just discovered that one of them number had been slain. “If they find me, my skin will end up on one of their walls!” he mused to himself in his mind, adding: “I must not let them catch me.” Then, he found a side corridor that led to what appeared to be a central stairwell that had a very fancy metal railing along the outer side of the stairs. Surely, this had to be the steps that he was searching for! He ascended them in all haste, and soon reached another gallery at the very top of the stairs. It was just as gruesome in all that it contained as the other gallery had been... and in this one there were human hearts in jars filled with preserving fluids set upon all the pedestals. Instead of skins, the corpses of skinless victims were nailed to the walls. One was still alive somehow, and began to scream: “Kill me! Oh please good sir, I beg of you... kill me, if you have any love for your fellow man!” He ended the man's life, quickly, and hoped anyone hearing would assume the victim had been crying out to a passing guard instead of to an intruder. It was a safe thing to assume, since no one was hastening to see what was the matter. He did hurry to the door at the end of this gallery, and cast it open to find a series of beautifully and opulently decorated chambers. Only kings and princes had such living spaces! This had to be the place where the master of this fortress lived. Elegant draperies and ornate tapestries, and several rare paintings were on the walls, and there was a beautiful statue of the goddess Aphrodite in one corner and in another was one of the god Bacchus that looked far more bestial and grotesque, with curved ram-like horns and a demonic looking face. A third statue, one of Hades abducting Persephone, was in the very center of the room. Pillows and cushions covered the floor all around and about that statue, and a great fountain with a lion's face from which water flowed down into a pit beneath it's gaping maw loomed on the far wall across from the door. A second door was off to one side of this chamber, and there were no windows. Despite that, this place was well lit with torches, braziers, candles and lanterns. Shelves contained all manner of curious objects and antiquities, some of which Malachi recognized the meaning of but some of which he had never seen the like of before that moment. Desks, dressers, and closets filled up quite a bit of space as well, surely containing nothing of importance to the Puritan's mission. Nothing here was in any way horrible or unnatural to behold, and it was like entering a totally different world than what the rest of the fortress contained. There was seemingly no one present, but that only meant that those he sought had to be behind the other door, in whatever room or chamber lay behind it. Other chambers did exist off from the main central one, beyond high and slender archways, but they likewise had no one in them to be confronted. Wishing to keep the element of surprise, Malachi carefully opened the nearby door, which to his delight was unlocked, and he entered the adjoining chamber. It was decorated every bit as extravagantly and royally as the chamber it adjoined, only in the middle of it were two coffins... one adult sized and one child sized. “What perverse madness is this?” he exclaimed aloud, unable to contain his shock at seeing such a sight in such beautiful surroundings. “I come all this way to extract justice, and... is the master of this place dead all along?” he asked also aloud, as if he hoped God might hear him and answer. He walked over to the adult coffin and cast it's lid open, finding it empty. He did the same with the other coffin, but it was empty as well. He did not know what to make of this finding.
Suddenly, the door he had come through closed of its' own accord and the room became colder even though no windows were within it to account for such a draft. A man's soft, refined, noble voice spoke from someplace nearby: “So, we have a foreign visitor! A man of God, by the look of your clothing. I do not like men of God, they offend me more oft than not.” And Malachi called out to the voice: “And if you are the master of this place and ruler of this domain... I declare, that you offend me! I have seen your handiwork, and met some of your victims. Whether you do such wicked deeds yourself or have it be that your followers do it for you... it is just as evil, and such evil must be punished.” Then, he felt an unseen hand clutch his throat and lift him off the floor. He began to choke in the spectral grip and once again the almost reasonable sounding voice rang out, this time from right in front of him. It said: “It is a rare thing, to have such a defiant spirit intrude upon my presence, and in these night hours when I am at my strongest nonetheless! Either you are a madman, a fool, or truly a mindless zealot to think that you can simply break into my home and kill me... as if I were some common brigand to be brought to your idea of justice. And who are you, sir, to judge right from wrong? Your kind, from all I understand, are not oft inclined to reason... more, you are inclined to slay in the name of God, and to question the why of it only after the deed has been done. Tell your god when I send you to meet him, that I have not any need for his murderers in my dwelling place!” and then the unseen hands began to slowly crush with a great deal of force the Puritan's neck. Malachi managed... just in time... to fetch a small, wooden cross from out of a pouch on his belt, and he held it forward. A terrible hissing noise rang out, and the smell of burning flesh met his nostrils as whatever had been gripping him let him drop to the floor. There was a bit of smoke, and at once the Puritan unsheathed his sword and took out a flintlock pistol in order to confront this invisible adversary. He had several such pistols in the baldric he wore, and all of them had balls made from silver for ammunition. He had dropped the cross unto the floor, but he would not need that now. “Show yourself, coward! Or are you so afraid of a man of God that you must keep out of my sight and slink about like a mere shadow?” And then, the fiend manifested itself! It was in shape like a man, but with pale white skin with a slight bluish tint to it. The creature had blood red eyes that had no whites in them, and pointed ears like some devil. It was hairless, and bald, with sharp features. Within its' mouth were fangs rather than teeth, all of them pointed and sharp like small daggers. It was thin and gaunt, and somewhat like unto a corpse, and yet somehow it lived. It had long, sharp fingernails at the end of it's bony hands, and wore the attire of a gentleman despite looking the way it did. The monster said unto Malachi upon making itself visible: “I am no coward, stranger! It is you who slinks about my dwelling place, and it is you who refused until now to make your presence known.” The cross shaped burn on the devil's forehead was proof that this horror could be harmed. It reached a hand up to it, and said in disgust: “And you have the audacity to brand me with the sign of your pathetic faith! This minor irritation will heal... quickly, after I have torn out your heart and consumed it's blood. I shall leave only a bit left over, in case my beloved wishes to have some to drink as well.” Malachi had almost blissfully forgotten about this creature's wife, and by the sound of it she was likely as much of a hell spawn as the thing that stood before his gaze at present. But, then... what was the meaning of the child's coffin... had the unholy pair somehow produced an offspring of some kind? “And where is the good lady? I should like to meet her, if I may!” asked the Puritan meaning it with mock politeness. But the creature took it the wrong way, and hissed in undisguised rage: “Oh, would you now! Like to meet her? I have heard men speak that way, and with vile intent... they did not live past uttering such statements. So much for being a man of God! I will enjoy removing the flesh from your bones with my claws.” The Puritan did his best to try and explain his meaning, saying as he braced himself for the monster's impending attack: “I apologize if you thought I meant it wrongly, sir! I meant only that I genuinely wished to humbly and respectfully be introduced to her by you. I am indeed, a man of God, and as such have only respect for the sanctity of your marriage.” The fiend seemed pleased to hear this, and restrained itself from lashing out as it asked: “How can you claim to be respectful when you invade my home, burn me, and with an obvious animosity towards me you make ready to murder me? That is not gentlemanly conduct, at all!”
A spectral blade appeared in the demon's hand, in shape like unto a cutlass but much sharper by the look of it and made from some pale greenish ethereal substance that glowed faintly. Suddenly, a little girl appeared out of thin air! She had pale white skin with a bluish tint to it just like the demon had, and she had long wavy hair of the palest blonde color imaginable. She was as beautiful to look upon as the other creature was hideous. And yet, her ears were pointed and her eyes red with no whites in them to be seen. Her face was otherwise cherubic and sweet, with full lips and a bright smile. She wore a gown fit for a little princess, and was probably about eleven years of age. Or so she appeared! For such fiends as these could have deceptive appearances and actually be much, much older than they looked to be. In that instant the she was visible, she said in an innocent sounding voice: “If all you wished to do was to meet me, than see! Here I am, and there is no need for further bloodshed. Depart from this place, grim stranger, and you shall be forgiven your past crimes against us and allowed to leave in peace, and with no need for the secrecy through which you entered our home!” she sounded sweet and kindly, with a genuine concern for the well being of others. The demonic man thence shifted his form... and it was not hideous to look upon any longer, but quite human and with the aquiline nose and quite regal features of a nobleman of the very highest standing. His claws became just normal fingernails of a normal length, and the sword he had been holding vanished back whence it came. Both he and the little girl now had skin of normal coloration although still very much on the pale side. Only their pointed ears and scarlet eyes betrayed what they truly were. “As you can see, sir, we are not devils! We are nobles of the sort as you are perhaps accustomed to dealing with, if you have any familiarity with nobility at all. Just as my wife said, if you leave now and in peace... you shall leave this place still in one piece. If you fight me... if you fight us... you will die a most terrible death and accomplish nothing! The choice is yours, but as a gentleman I must advise you to heed our advice and do as we ask. And in the future... remember that there are far, far better methods of gaining an audience with your betters!” So had the nobleman stated, and Malachi almost might have seriously thought he was going mad had it not been for those ears and those eyes... their words sounded almost, perhaps, hypnotic in their appeal to his better nature. And yet, there was a deep arrogance, a disdain in the very same words that could not be disguised! Such disdain offended him, and he liked it not. And within the mask of civility the unholy couple now wore, there so lay veiled threats behind every word the nobleman spoke and promises of a grisly demise. And so, as if suddenly in a state of rare humor, the Puritan laughed aloud and said: “She is your wife, sir? The girl is to my eyes but a child, and though I have heard of ones so young as this being married off perhaps even just that early in life... surely you two did not consummate your marriage as two adults might! That is a thing not done by civilized men. Are you a beast, sir, to defile a child so? I should hope you intend to at least wait until she had her first bleeding before considering it.” This mockery enraged the little girl as her words filled with fury when she thus spoke them unto him: “Bastard! You cross-fucking prick of a man, I know your sort only too well. You judge us for our love for each other? Whilst you have in your time doubtless either frequented the beds of whores or the buttocks of little boys. Get out! Get out now before I decide to kill you myself.” And the nobleman walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, after which the pair kissed like lovers do in order to calm each other's growing rage. The two smiled after their kiss ended, and they turned to regard the Puritan angrily as the nobleman said with no uncertainty as to the stormy fury growing within his heart: “You have mocked my wife, and myself as well in the process! I am indeed... a beast, if you wish to call it that. And either you leave our presence, now, or I and my wife shall together tear you asunder and leave no blood left in your veins to be found by the carrion birds and worms of the soil that will devour your carcass when we are through with it.” And hand in hand, the two creatures of the night manifested swords in their hands, as the two of them took on completely demonic looking forms of the sort Malachi had previously seen but far more feral looking even than that, with the child also having this appearance now as well... the strands of her pale hair floating in the air all about her head as if she were underwater. The Puritan made ready to fight for his life, as the thing that had once been a little girl exclaimed: “Prepare... to meet your God... bastard!”
It was late into the following day when the Puritan strode into the forest wherein his journey to that dark and terrible fortress had begun. He did not have his horse with him, but rather he walked on foot to the campsite where the wild woman once again was sitting upon a log as she tended the fire. She did look up to see the man approaching, and she let a gentle smile play upon her face as she said unto him in a welcoming manner: “I see you managed to overcome what was arrayed against you! Come on, and I will let you have a seat by my fire if you like. All are so welcome, so long as they come in peace and mean me no ill will. Not that the old powers that are at work in these woods would ever actually let any harm come to me anyway! Not as long as I am here, they won't. I may not be a blood drinking vampire, but despite how normal I might look... I am a creature of the night after a different fashion. Like I have said before, I have killed... and not only when I had to. Sometimes, I just have to admit that I honestly, simply felt like it.” She motioned to a charred skull that was burning in the campfire before her. “That one was just for the fun of it!” she exclaimed... and chuckled a bit as she ate some cooked human flesh that she had sliced off of her latest victim. She offered some extra she had nearby to Malachi, but him being the godly man he was, he naturally refused it, knowing in his heart what it was. He was silent as he sat down on the log next to the wild woman who was if truth were put to it no longer the human she appeared to be. Nor had she been in a very long time! She found it odd that his refusal of the meat was a silent one expressed by hand motions rather than words. Likewise, the Puritan was a silent as a grave even as he sat at the woman's side and gazed into the roaring fire. “You must have seen some horrors, for them to have robbed you of your ability to speak! I did warn you though, about what it was as you were getting into. Let me guess... the evil beasts are dead, the countryside is safe now for god-fearing men, women, and innocent little children too! Fine with me, I will definitely not ever be leaving these woods anyway. Sounds like things out there are going to be a lot more boring now, which means I am going to be the only fiend in the area... no more competition from those two vampires to worry about. And, nothing to distract me from luring people into my forest in order to have a bit of fun with them! You made a good blade for hire, you know that? Only... I never promised you any payment, nor did I ever promise you anything at all. So, after you have rested up a bit and leave... do not come back, or as certain as the night is dark here, it will be your skull that burns in my fire.” Malachi remained silent as he continued to stare into the fire without making any motions or facial expressions. He looked blank, more like some kind of an automaton than a living person. The wild woman asked him half mockingly: “So, what happened to your horse, your sword, and your hat? Lost them on the way back, thanks to a pack of highwaymen, that would be my guess! Figures, does it not? Survive a fight with creatures out of Hell, only to fall prey to men who act like they came straight out of Hell. Well like I said, I am not paying you a thing! I have no money to pay you with, and my days of paying debts with my body are long over and done with. Besides, you Puritans are probably too good for that kind of thing anyway, so go with God, my son... and be content with your lot in life. Maybe God will provide?” And she laughed in a very obviously mocking tone that should have made the man quite upset. And yet, he showed not a single sign of being offended as he turned his head and regarded her as blankly and intently as he just was regarding the fire. “Fuck! Stop looking at me like that, you madman... what in the Devil's name is wrong with you, anyway? I get it, you have probably been severely traumatized by everything, but no way in a thousand degrees of Hell's heat does that excuse you staring at me like you either want to fuck me or eat me whole. You getting your cock hard over me or something, mister high and mighty man of God? Well, you can stick it up between your own buttocks for all I care for men anymore!” She was a young and beautiful looking woman in the prime of her life, and sometimes men had designs regarding her that were less than righteous, even men who claimed to be Christian and holy. Even ever since she became what she was now, she remained young and beautiful and had not aged a day since her made the pact that had changed the course of her destiny forever. She had every reason to be cautious of any man who leered at her so bizarrely as Malachi was. “Malachi, stop it! Stop it at once, do you hear me?” she screamed... loudly and in his face, practically... and yet, he continued to look at her in that odd way.
His eyes did not blink, and strangest of all he was not breathing. She gasped when she noticed this, as the Puritan laughed a maniacal laugh and clutched the sides of his face. With several tugs, he pulled the skin off, revealing underneath it the face of the evil vampire nobleman who had slain him. He stripped himself of all of his clothing after standing up, the Puritan's clothing that is, and he afterward in a rather gruesome display divested himself of the rest of Malachi's skin which fell to the ground all in a bloody heap. He wiped the dead man's blood from his face and also from off of his body as best as he was able to using Malachi's undershirt, and allowed his eyes to return to their natural red coloration. The illusion of making them look like the Puritan's eyes using the darkest sorcery had done the work he had hoped it would, and fooled the wild woman utterly. The pale skinned horror that stood before her... was in his demonic form, rather than his human looking one, and he smiled with a mouthful of fangs as he said to the startled, shrieking woman who trembled with fear before him: “Actually, as you can see I rather am hard in the cock for you! And I intend to rape you rather brutally before bringing you back to town and letting all of the town guards have their way with you in public, before giving you over to a mob of the town's worst lowlife and wretched scum. You only have any power at all within these woods, my dear! And my power is greater than yours, by far, as you well know. All why you sent that fool off to try and murder my wife and I... which he failed to do, rather spectacularly I might add. My young wife, she is still feasting upon his remains, as we speak, which is regrettably why she could not accompany me here invisibly to watch me go to work on your body the way I intend to. Nothing to say, my dear lady? Just be aware, that it was the Puritan who told me all I so wanted to know about who had pointed him in my general direction... and that would be you... and where I could find you in order so that I might have my revenge upon you for this act of yours. I still killed him very painfully anyway... well, actually it was I and my wife together who killed him painfully... after we had so managed to defeat him soundly and all too easily in combat and thence tortured him for hours after we made him our special prisoner. Though I do prefer the term 'honored guest' a lot more than words as crude as 'special prisoner'! But, that is all too sadly neither here nor there... spread your legs, slut. It will be far less painful, if you do not resist.” She tried to flee, but the fiendish monster clutched her by the hair and yanked her backwards unto the ground with a great deal of force... where he cast her unto her back and tore her clothes off of her body, before raping her every bit as brutally as he had promised her that he would. Once he had thus finished doing this and left her in tears as she lay sobbing upon the ground, her mind broken by the experience of being forced upon by so terrible a creature as had so violated her... he cast a spell that caused flames to leap forward and outward from the campfire, causing the trees and the dry leaves on the forest floor to be set alight. More and more flames leapt forth, and soon the entire forest was blazing as it burned to the ground with great ferocity and hellish intensity. He carried his defiled victim in his arms as he took the only path that was left not burning and being consumed by flames, and that only because his will so made it wait to be thus consumed until after he was gone from those blazing woods, his captive victim with him. He took her straight away to the town just as he had threatened to do, and had done unto her all the things he threatened that he was going to have done unto her. She was raped nearly to death by every guard in the town followed by a large mob of the worst of the worst that humanity has to offer. In the end, she cried out for vengeance to anything that would listen to her... but nothing answered her call since with the burning of that forest and it now being gone from the face of the earth, there was no way for the old powers that once were at work there to reach her. She was cut off from them, and they from her, and at the last she lay naked and bloody and bruised in the public center of that town... utterly, and savagely, crushed by those she had hoped to either escape or by chance defy. All the will to fight was at last torn from her, and she accepted her dreadful and cruel fate without any questioning. Meanwhile, at their tower overlooking the countryside they ruled with an iron fist, the vampire nobleman and his child wife knew nothing but depraved and perverse happiness as they so relished and reveled in all the things that are considered to be forbidden by most human societies, but which were considered delightful to those of more infernal persuasions. And across all of that land... darkness, did come to reign supreme.
It was past the hour of noon's time, and the forest was dense and filled with shadows that flitted here and there as if to escape the sight of the gazing sun, which with each passing hour slipped towards the looming certainty of a gilded-tinged afternoon amid the surrounding autumn colors intermixed as they were with tall pines of evergreen. A solitary man was walking with his steed along various paths and trails through the woodland, for it would have been unwise for him to ride along such narrow trails that had many a low hanging branch or several that could unseat a rider with sudden violence. Like as not, twilight was soon to come, but it was not something one looked forward to in these parts. The man was a fellow of average height, and was rather lean but not without some measure of strength both obvious and of more subtle qualities as well. He wore the attire of a Puritan, and he hailed originally from the rather far and distant Salem that now seemed a world behind him. He had left his home because of the various events that unfolded there that made him convinced that the entire town was wholly possessed of an evil that took root more in those who persecuted the supposed “witches” that they sought to rid their community of than in the actual victims of such persecution themselves. And rest assured, those accused of witchcraft during that time were quite innocent of the charges arrayed against them! Such was this man's realization and though he could do nothing to save those innocents from the madness and hysteria that led once religious and righteous men and women to become bloodthirsty monsters in the pursuit of what they called “justice”... he had made a solemn vow to God that he would never be so powerless to save another, ever again. In his travels, he had done many good deeds and valiant ones, if not foolhardy at times as well. But at least he had come to be able to live with a clear conscience, quite unlike those in the hypocritical community he had long since left behind him. He had first after leaving there tried living in other Puritan villages and towns, and he had decided ere long that surely what had occurred in Salem must have left him with an ill taste for his fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Yet, he kept to his faith even if some of them did not always do so rightly. They were not all wicked folk, to be sure, and many were much like he was in many respects... but his time in Salem had driven him into a state of mistrust of his fellows, and that in turn produced in him a desire to go forth into the world to see if there might out there be a place wherein he could feel more truly at home. And he wandered far, and wide, in places known to civilized men and places more savage and wild by far. And by degrees, it was fated that the Holy Spirit or something just as profound had moved him to end up in this place, in the distant land wherein he now made his way. Such was his tale, and his life had made him somewhat quiet and at times grim and dark of humor. He was pallid and black haired, with fierce icy eyes that did shine with a certain light whenever he spoke of his faith to others, which was passingly rare as time had gone on. His wide brimmed hat shaded him in the warm seasons from the sun, and in the autumn it did at certain hours of the afternoon cast his face into shadow. He drew his dark cloak about him, looked at the trail before him, and cursed silently at how winding and wild this part of these woods actually was. Though he disliked supposedly civilized men and their at times wicked ways, he liked far less places of this sort wherein a person could become lost and at the mercy of things more terrible than wicked men. He kept a hand on the hilt of his blade, sheathed at his side as it was, and his intense eyes were ever on the watch for movement. His steed was as black as his garments, and as silent as he himself was, as the man and his horse went along. He chanced to come upon, ere long, a clearing in the woods and in that clearing was a modest campsite with a small fire lit at the center of it by the woman who sat upon a log in front of the blaze, trying to warm herself in the chill of the middle of the autumn season. She had a wild mane of black hair, dark brooding eyes, and was attired in a rather plain looking gray dress with a thick shawl covering her shoulders. A fur cloak lay on the ground nearby, for the night was colder than the day by far during this time of the year, and the cloth of the woman's tent flapped a bit in the breeze as a sudden wild gust blew through the forest and rattled the leaves of the trees with a ghostly breath. It was an ill omen, the Puritan thought to himself as he approached the camp and decided to run the risk of asking this wild looking woman if he might share her fire for a brief span... before moving on again.
As he approached, the woman asked him curiously: “I see you are a foreigner to our land... and by the way you are dressed, I could only assume you hail from either England or one of its' colonies. Would I be correct in making that assumption?” and the cheerless looking Puritan said in answer to her inquiry: “I can only assume you have met others like me before, then, for aye you are correct in what you say.” She then stated in a matter of fact manner: “It is an uncommon style of dress in this land, and the faith you and your brethren cling to is even more uncommon in these godless parts.” He seemed grave in his concern at this revelation, and said unto her in reply: “Godless you say! That bodes ill when most all of civilized Europe is Christian in so far as I have seen in my journeys. Why should this land be as you do claim it to be?” And the woman's eyes went wide as she swallowed hard before explaining: “This is a place far enough east that the beliefs and morality that prevail elsewhere are easy enough to discard and not bring misfortune upon those who do so. Who shall say this is right or wrong when those who make the law in many of these lands have assuredly pacts with the Devil?” The Puritan tied his horse to a tree nearby and sat down on the log next to the woman, who beckoned for him to be seated thus. He asked of her: “The Devil, is it? I have heard such talk before, and found those who claimed it was so to be oft purveyors of prejudice and advocates of diabolical violence. How am I to know that all is as you claim it to be and not the work of a hysterical mind?” The woman laughed and then said with a touch of grim humor to her words: “Oh, and here I thought you would be the zealous one, if your brothers and some of your sisters in Christ have been anything to go by! But you seem different than they. Oh, if only I in my heathen heart had been more righteous as you think me to be... I'd not be an outcast and traveler of wild paths today. I came hither because I was drawn by this land's abandonment of God! Not because I am what some might call a goodly woman. I, have been many things over the years, sir! I used to be a thief, sometimes I have been a whore, and I have killed as well. And never was I sorry for anything that I did, and so why would God care about such as I? Nay, it is better that I exist here, beyond woods and mists far from the sight of more decent folk! But... there is wickedness, which is my lot in life to have indulged in, and then there is evil. I have discovered that those who govern this land are evil, and that there are powers at work here which derive from the darkest regions of Hell itself.” Through the humor in her tone, her last statement was more grave by far and it chilled the Puritan's heart straight through. He said unto the woman: “My name, in case that matters to you woman, is Malachi Blake. Pray, tell me your name so that I might know with whom I share this fire at present?” And she told him in answer to this: “My name is Vanda, and I have no other name than that either of such a one as gifted me from my family or otherwise. It was not always so, but that is how it must be now due to the pacts I have made.” And this concerned Malachi greatly! He asked her: “Pacts? What sort of pacts... tell me not that you are speaking of Devil's pacts or some other abominations!” to which she said in a serious manner: “I shall refrain from telling of them at all, good sir... were I to give voice to it, then evil would befall me. There are some secrets which must be kept, be they good or evil in their nature.” And the Puritan said to her in a resigned way after sighing audibly: “It is beyond my ability to know what is in your heart, Vanda, and if you be of good or evil nature yourself. I shall simply have to trust you at present, unless you at some point give me reason not to.” And she smiled and chuckled before agreeing: “That is sensible, I have to admit... more sensible than some would be in your present position. What brings you to these woods, Malachi Blake? This is not a place where people journey lightly.” He said in answer to this: “I have no reason precisely for journeying hither, I was looking for a shortcut of sorts through some of the surrounding countryside to avoid some of the local towns which had an ill feeling about them when I did by chance ride through one or two of them. I had an incident in one of the towns whereby I had to flee in a bit of a hurry... and this seemed to me the best way to achieve both my escape and my search for a shortcut.” Vanda looked worried after hearing the man say this, and she inquired: “What sort of an incident are you speaking of? I should like to know if I am to expect trouble from you chancing upon my fire... though to be honest with you, most avoid my company if they can help it.” Malachi's face did appear deep in thought for a bit... but then he revealed the reason he had to flee in such a mighty haste.
He said as follows: “It was never my intention to get involved in local affairs, but there was a place in one of the towns I spoke of previously, and therein was set up at the town's center a place devoted fully to the torture and execution of criminals or so it seemed at first glance. But tied to a whipping post was a pair of children, a little boy and a little girl whose backs were covered in horrid lash marks that bled in a painful way that showed they had just recently been lashed. They also appeared to have suffered a beating, the both of them. Some of the grown men and women tied, chained or shackled in that place... they were dead, and some in grisly fashion. I shall spare you the details of what mine eyes beheld there but it was a sight straight out of Hell itself I swear to God Almighty! I felt compelled the untie the two children from the whipping post, and to bear them to the house of their parents which lay in one of the surrounding villages beyond that town's outskirts. I did this quietly and securely and delivered them to their rightful place without incident, and with no one knowing I had been their deliverer. But when I did return within sight of the town I spied a party of angry men who noticed the missing children. They had begun a door to door search for them, and fearful for the family's safety I returned to their home to tell them to leave with great haste and to seek more tolerable climes if they could. They had family in a distant land, and I gave them coin to aid them in their exodus. I escorted them to the border of this land and that was the end of the matter. But someone must have seen me back in the town, because posters were put up describing me and a bounty had been issued for my arrest. In doing God's work, I had thus become a fugitive from the local idea of justice, evidently a severe miscarriage thereof. I was careful to not be pursued as I made my way to this forest, and no one followed me into its' confines. Be at ease!” And Vanda said to him after that: “The place you describe is truly an evil domain, for the man who so rules over that town and all the towns hereabout is said to be possessed by a spirit from the Abyss itself and as such a fiend he has a penchant for torture and a taste for blood that is unsurpassed. His wife, so the tales claim, is even worse than he and a monster more horrid you will not find even in the darkest of tales. I told you this was a godless place! Your own eyes have put the truth to my words. But where are you going to go now? If I were you, I should flee these lands and seek safer roads elsewhere.” But the Puritan was steadfast in his resolve to do the right thing as he saw it, and he said unto the wild woman: “I shall most certainly not flee... not whilst those two devils are in power here. For though these lands be godless indeed, I shall bring the judgment of God unto any who think that it is well to torture and to shed the blood of innocent children. This pair you speak of are clearly barbarians, and I shall teach the both of them that though this land is godless, there is one messenger of Heaven who walks within it. I intend in this instance to be that messenger, and my blade shall free this land of at least this dark evil.” Malachi clutched the hilt of his rapier tightly as he spoke, as if he was containing a great deal of anger. The woman said to him in reply to his brave words: “You will go such a road alone, Puritan! I cannot ever leave these woods, lest I incur the wrath of the spirits that dwell here unseen. And, the last time I passed through that town, I was picked up at a tavern and arrested for failing to donate money the evil ones and their hellish causes. I was taken to the place you freed those children from, and before the fell eyes of a jeering crowed that looked like a barely contained mod of ravening beasts... the men who had arrested me in the employ of the town guards did ravish me in brutal fashion before the eyes of all who looked on. Then, men from the crowd were allowed to do with me as they wished, and after that I was cast from the town with stones being thrown at me for added cruelty. This was long, long before I did come to be as I am today... and now I find my solitude in this forest to be a blessing rather than a curse. At least here, the beasts are obvious! For they do not walk about in the guise of men.” After hearing the woman's sad tale, Malachi asked her: “Where do the two devils make their abode? That is wither I am bound next.” And the wild woman told him: “You seek a dark fortress built up within a fortified village that was long ago enclosed within high encircling walls in order to protect the fortress further. It lies a full two hours distance by foot and less by carriage or horse from that wicked town we both fled from. The village became a playground for all manner of wickedness and horror, and the great tower that is at the heart of the fortress is said to be guarded by more than just men of arms in service to vile masters.”
She would not speak the names or titles of they who ruled from that fortress, for fear of drawing their gaze by supernatural means to her solitary forest home. But Vanda had given the Puritan a vivid sort of description to go by of the place wherein they dwelt, and that made it a simple matter to find the awful fortress that so blighted and bedeviled the surrounding countryside with such cruel fervor. He thought, to himself, as he rode forth under the cover of night, having rested for a span in Vanda's camp before so setting forth, that it was surely not going to be an easy matter to infiltrate such a den of darkness. But if there was a way, then he was assured that God would see fit to lead him to discover it. He prayed as he rode forth, and hoped that his faith would grant him victory once again as it had so often in times past. He was not a young man any longer, but he was a great swordsman and a wise scholar as well. He had a dark side he liked not, and which he fought ever to contain... and sometimes it seemed to him that he was drawn to darkness like a moth is drawn at times against its' will to a consuming flame. He rode the full distance by horse from the town to the fortress and then he realized why he had not seen it the last time he was at that twisted community... the entire place was half hidden behind a section of very high mountains, with a winding road leading past a crossroads to the front gates of the fortress's encircling walls, those same which contained the hellish village Vanda had told him of. Malachi passed by that crossroads, and beheld in its' center an inverted wooden cross nailed unto the massive trunk of a rather enormous tree that at present was bereft of its' leaves and thus of a somewhat skeletal appearance. On the cross was nailed a woman who wore the garb of a nun, and an iron spike had been driven into the tenderest of places between her legs, from which the head of the spike protruded. Blood covered all of the cross and was pooled upon the ground beneath it. From the branches of the tree, the thickest ones, hung the corpses of countless men and woman, and children also. Whole families seemed to be hung in such a morbid display, and carrion birds were busy pecking at these peoples' decaying remains. Such a shock was the sight of this display of depravity, that it caused the Puritan to make the sign of the cross as he rode past. He vowed to make the authors of such a horror pay for their crimes, but first he had to find a way into that fortress! Preferably without alerting anyone to his presence since there was, after all, the matter of that bounty and the fact the those within the fortress most certainly had a fairly decent and accurate description of him to go by. If he was caught, he would be shown no mercy by any means. There was a craggy cliff that ran along the fortress's outer walls on the far side, out from the side of the mountain, and if a man could climb it then they could perhaps by chance gain access to the tops of the walls... which appeared only sparsely patrolled by guards, some of which appeared almost on the verge of becoming sleepy from their long vigil. It was the least dangerous prospect, and Malachi had climbed far more difficult cliffs in his younger years. He had some extra rope, in his steed's saddle bags... and, a grappling hook he could attach to it as needed. A dense forest ran all along the countryside just across the road from the fortress and the crossroads, and before he could be spotted by anyone in the fortress he rode off the road and then into those woods where once he was well out of sight he made certain to first secure the animal to a tree and then he prepared his rope and hook for the climb that he intended to embark upon. He circled around quietly until he was behind a section of the cliff, and it was a section that was far from the sight of the fortress guards. He had left his hat back in the saddlebags, since that would only have fallen off of his head during the impending climb in any case. His long but carefully combed hair was as black as night itself, and it was under the cover of the night's shadows that he did begin to make the climb that perhaps other men would not have dared to undertake. His black attire so aided him in remaining undetected against the dreary darkness of the rocky face that he ascended ever so carefully, his sturdy gloves kept his hands from becoming chafed or burned from the rope as he did grip it tightly whilst climbing ever steadily upward. First to one stony ledge, after which he would then retrieve the hook and hurl the hook up to the next... and then to another, until at last he was at the top of the cliff at its' flattest point rather than where it began to slope either further up towards the height of the mountains, or farther down towards the ground by the road. He kept close to the clifftop, careful to not stand up just in case the guards on the top of the walls were a lot more vigilant than they appeared.
As he had noticed from below, the clifftop was several feet higher than the fortress's encircling walls, and it would not be difficult to clamber down unto those walls from where Malachi was right now. But he waited whilst the guards walked their patrol routes until he could be certain they would neither hear nor see him doing so. Once it was clear, he lowered himself down unto the wall with care and then after doing so he dove for cover behind some crates and barrels whilst the guards walked on past once more. Then, he crept towards one of the towers that dotted the top of the wall, and once within he looked out one of the windows to see that the wall ran all the way to the mountainside, and that a section of it led straight into the side of the main fortress itself so that the wall guards could easily enter and leave to go on their patrols and thus not have to disturb anyone in the village below. At present, the guards were all either off on the other side of the wall, at the main gatehouse that allowed one to enter the village from the road, or otherwise occupied so as not to be paying any attention. If he was to gain entrance into the fortress proper, now was the time... or perhaps, failing to act now, then never. He had left his rope and hook behind back at the clifftop, certain he could find a way out of the fortress and back to the road as soon as this assassination he had planned was finished. Such a massive place surely had to have secret ways, and if such ways existed here then he would need to find them and make use of them. But first, he had to get to where the two rulers were and dispatch them to their graves. Sneaking past a couple of groups of drunken guards who were barely in their right minds, he soon was within the open archway that led into the fortress. No doors impeded his entrance, thought that told him that other impediments must surely be awaiting him soon after entering. From the village below, he heard cries and moans, all manner of shrieks and screams as well, and the laughter of men and women. He did not want to see the kind of monstrous sports that were likely being indulged in down there. He was certain the sight of any such thing would offend him greatly and only serve to make his wrath all the greater. So he ignored all the windows and arrow slits that met his gaze as he walked along a wide hallway. It was wide, and had columns along both sides of it, and thick curtains and draperies covering the walls. He kept closest to them, and when guards approached he hid behind them so as not to be seen. By some miracle, he had thus far remained undetected. At the far end of the hall was an oaken door with a round metal ring to open it by. He pulled the ring and opened the door as silently as he could. It creaked a bit, and that did make him jump for fear of someone hearing... but God surely was with him on that occasion, for not a soul had heard that creaking despite it to him seeming as shrill as a cat's cry. “God be praised!” He thus exclaimed in his mind, as he climbed up several flights of steps beyond that door. Two stairways were there, one which allowed one to access the fortress's upper levels, and one that allowed a descent unto the lower ones. He reasoned that if one was to access the great tower at the fortress's heart, then it was wise to search the upper levels first for the means to reach it. He heard the sounds of guards below, and was grateful he had not picked the lower stairway. The upper steps took him to a wide chamber that did have the look of a kind of gallery to it. But this one contained no art, nor any statuary to be displayed! It had within it the skins of men, women, and children nailed to its' wooden walls. And on smooth and graceful looking marble pedestals in between where the skins were on display, were human skulls that still had blood upon some of them. The scrape marks on the skulls, were indicative of the flesh having been removed from them with a surgeon's precision. It was a horrible, ghastly sight and the fact that a great many children had been victims of the flaying knife... left Malachi with a sick feeling in his belly. “No child deserves to suffer such a fate as this! This is perverse beyond all imagining.” he thought as he silently made his way to the door on the far end of the gallery, a look of obvious disgust plain upon his otherwise stern looking face. He could hear two men talking behind the door, and he listened and tried to hear what passed between them. All he could make out was that the “Master” awaited a report, and that a guard was late to deliver it and needed to hasten to a stairway nearby. He could not be sure just how nearby that might be, and suddenly he could hear one of the two men departing and the other reaching for the handle of the door behind which he himself was busy listening. He cursed silently, as he leapt back from the door... there was no place to hide... whilst a guard entered the gallery after that.
The guard noticed the Puritan and drew his rapier in order to attack. Malachi had drawn his already, as soon as he heard the door open, and was upon the guard at once... their blades meeting in a clash of metal that was thankfully not too loud but enough of a noise that the Puritan was certain they would be heard fighting if this duel was not finished quickly. He stabbed at the man's wrist, causing the guard to drop his blade, and with a lunging thrust Malachi then ran the man through and nearly finished him. As soon as the guard was mortally wounded, he collapsed unto the floor in a heap and began to whimper in agony. That would not do! Malachi stabbed him through the throat to put him to death, and now only a few desperate gurgling sounds did come from the guard as he breathed his final bloody, rasping breath. The Puritan then dragged the dead guard's body to one side of the room and hurried through the door as he crossed through several hallways, corridors, and chambers searching for whatever stairway it was as would lead him to that mysterious “Master” that other man had spoken of. Sure enough, the sound of guards could be heard back towards the direction of the gallery, and by the sound of it the guards had just discovered that one of them number had been slain. “If they find me, my skin will end up on one of their walls!” he mused to himself in his mind, adding: “I must not let them catch me.” Then, he found a side corridor that led to what appeared to be a central stairwell that had a very fancy metal railing along the outer side of the stairs. Surely, this had to be the steps that he was searching for! He ascended them in all haste, and soon reached another gallery at the very top of the stairs. It was just as gruesome in all that it contained as the other gallery had been... and in this one there were human hearts in jars filled with preserving fluids set upon all the pedestals. Instead of skins, the corpses of skinless victims were nailed to the walls. One was still alive somehow, and began to scream: “Kill me! Oh please good sir, I beg of you... kill me, if you have any love for your fellow man!” He ended the man's life, quickly, and hoped anyone hearing would assume the victim had been crying out to a passing guard instead of to an intruder. It was a safe thing to assume, since no one was hastening to see what was the matter. He did hurry to the door at the end of this gallery, and cast it open to find a series of beautifully and opulently decorated chambers. Only kings and princes had such living spaces! This had to be the place where the master of this fortress lived. Elegant draperies and ornate tapestries, and several rare paintings were on the walls, and there was a beautiful statue of the goddess Aphrodite in one corner and in another was one of the god Bacchus that looked far more bestial and grotesque, with curved ram-like horns and a demonic looking face. A third statue, one of Hades abducting Persephone, was in the very center of the room. Pillows and cushions covered the floor all around and about that statue, and a great fountain with a lion's face from which water flowed down into a pit beneath it's gaping maw loomed on the far wall across from the door. A second door was off to one side of this chamber, and there were no windows. Despite that, this place was well lit with torches, braziers, candles and lanterns. Shelves contained all manner of curious objects and antiquities, some of which Malachi recognized the meaning of but some of which he had never seen the like of before that moment. Desks, dressers, and closets filled up quite a bit of space as well, surely containing nothing of importance to the Puritan's mission. Nothing here was in any way horrible or unnatural to behold, and it was like entering a totally different world than what the rest of the fortress contained. There was seemingly no one present, but that only meant that those he sought had to be behind the other door, in whatever room or chamber lay behind it. Other chambers did exist off from the main central one, beyond high and slender archways, but they likewise had no one in them to be confronted. Wishing to keep the element of surprise, Malachi carefully opened the nearby door, which to his delight was unlocked, and he entered the adjoining chamber. It was decorated every bit as extravagantly and royally as the chamber it adjoined, only in the middle of it were two coffins... one adult sized and one child sized. “What perverse madness is this?” he exclaimed aloud, unable to contain his shock at seeing such a sight in such beautiful surroundings. “I come all this way to extract justice, and... is the master of this place dead all along?” he asked also aloud, as if he hoped God might hear him and answer. He walked over to the adult coffin and cast it's lid open, finding it empty. He did the same with the other coffin, but it was empty as well. He did not know what to make of this finding.
Suddenly, the door he had come through closed of its' own accord and the room became colder even though no windows were within it to account for such a draft. A man's soft, refined, noble voice spoke from someplace nearby: “So, we have a foreign visitor! A man of God, by the look of your clothing. I do not like men of God, they offend me more oft than not.” And Malachi called out to the voice: “And if you are the master of this place and ruler of this domain... I declare, that you offend me! I have seen your handiwork, and met some of your victims. Whether you do such wicked deeds yourself or have it be that your followers do it for you... it is just as evil, and such evil must be punished.” Then, he felt an unseen hand clutch his throat and lift him off the floor. He began to choke in the spectral grip and once again the almost reasonable sounding voice rang out, this time from right in front of him. It said: “It is a rare thing, to have such a defiant spirit intrude upon my presence, and in these night hours when I am at my strongest nonetheless! Either you are a madman, a fool, or truly a mindless zealot to think that you can simply break into my home and kill me... as if I were some common brigand to be brought to your idea of justice. And who are you, sir, to judge right from wrong? Your kind, from all I understand, are not oft inclined to reason... more, you are inclined to slay in the name of God, and to question the why of it only after the deed has been done. Tell your god when I send you to meet him, that I have not any need for his murderers in my dwelling place!” and then the unseen hands began to slowly crush with a great deal of force the Puritan's neck. Malachi managed... just in time... to fetch a small, wooden cross from out of a pouch on his belt, and he held it forward. A terrible hissing noise rang out, and the smell of burning flesh met his nostrils as whatever had been gripping him let him drop to the floor. There was a bit of smoke, and at once the Puritan unsheathed his sword and took out a flintlock pistol in order to confront this invisible adversary. He had several such pistols in the baldric he wore, and all of them had balls made from silver for ammunition. He had dropped the cross unto the floor, but he would not need that now. “Show yourself, coward! Or are you so afraid of a man of God that you must keep out of my sight and slink about like a mere shadow?” And then, the fiend manifested itself! It was in shape like a man, but with pale white skin with a slight bluish tint to it. The creature had blood red eyes that had no whites in them, and pointed ears like some devil. It was hairless, and bald, with sharp features. Within its' mouth were fangs rather than teeth, all of them pointed and sharp like small daggers. It was thin and gaunt, and somewhat like unto a corpse, and yet somehow it lived. It had long, sharp fingernails at the end of it's bony hands, and wore the attire of a gentleman despite looking the way it did. The monster said unto Malachi upon making itself visible: “I am no coward, stranger! It is you who slinks about my dwelling place, and it is you who refused until now to make your presence known.” The cross shaped burn on the devil's forehead was proof that this horror could be harmed. It reached a hand up to it, and said in disgust: “And you have the audacity to brand me with the sign of your pathetic faith! This minor irritation will heal... quickly, after I have torn out your heart and consumed it's blood. I shall leave only a bit left over, in case my beloved wishes to have some to drink as well.” Malachi had almost blissfully forgotten about this creature's wife, and by the sound of it she was likely as much of a hell spawn as the thing that stood before his gaze at present. But, then... what was the meaning of the child's coffin... had the unholy pair somehow produced an offspring of some kind? “And where is the good lady? I should like to meet her, if I may!” asked the Puritan meaning it with mock politeness. But the creature took it the wrong way, and hissed in undisguised rage: “Oh, would you now! Like to meet her? I have heard men speak that way, and with vile intent... they did not live past uttering such statements. So much for being a man of God! I will enjoy removing the flesh from your bones with my claws.” The Puritan did his best to try and explain his meaning, saying as he braced himself for the monster's impending attack: “I apologize if you thought I meant it wrongly, sir! I meant only that I genuinely wished to humbly and respectfully be introduced to her by you. I am indeed, a man of God, and as such have only respect for the sanctity of your marriage.” The fiend seemed pleased to hear this, and restrained itself from lashing out as it asked: “How can you claim to be respectful when you invade my home, burn me, and with an obvious animosity towards me you make ready to murder me? That is not gentlemanly conduct, at all!”
A spectral blade appeared in the demon's hand, in shape like unto a cutlass but much sharper by the look of it and made from some pale greenish ethereal substance that glowed faintly. Suddenly, a little girl appeared out of thin air! She had pale white skin with a bluish tint to it just like the demon had, and she had long wavy hair of the palest blonde color imaginable. She was as beautiful to look upon as the other creature was hideous. And yet, her ears were pointed and her eyes red with no whites in them to be seen. Her face was otherwise cherubic and sweet, with full lips and a bright smile. She wore a gown fit for a little princess, and was probably about eleven years of age. Or so she appeared! For such fiends as these could have deceptive appearances and actually be much, much older than they looked to be. In that instant the she was visible, she said in an innocent sounding voice: “If all you wished to do was to meet me, than see! Here I am, and there is no need for further bloodshed. Depart from this place, grim stranger, and you shall be forgiven your past crimes against us and allowed to leave in peace, and with no need for the secrecy through which you entered our home!” she sounded sweet and kindly, with a genuine concern for the well being of others. The demonic man thence shifted his form... and it was not hideous to look upon any longer, but quite human and with the aquiline nose and quite regal features of a nobleman of the very highest standing. His claws became just normal fingernails of a normal length, and the sword he had been holding vanished back whence it came. Both he and the little girl now had skin of normal coloration although still very much on the pale side. Only their pointed ears and scarlet eyes betrayed what they truly were. “As you can see, sir, we are not devils! We are nobles of the sort as you are perhaps accustomed to dealing with, if you have any familiarity with nobility at all. Just as my wife said, if you leave now and in peace... you shall leave this place still in one piece. If you fight me... if you fight us... you will die a most terrible death and accomplish nothing! The choice is yours, but as a gentleman I must advise you to heed our advice and do as we ask. And in the future... remember that there are far, far better methods of gaining an audience with your betters!” So had the nobleman stated, and Malachi almost might have seriously thought he was going mad had it not been for those ears and those eyes... their words sounded almost, perhaps, hypnotic in their appeal to his better nature. And yet, there was a deep arrogance, a disdain in the very same words that could not be disguised! Such disdain offended him, and he liked it not. And within the mask of civility the unholy couple now wore, there so lay veiled threats behind every word the nobleman spoke and promises of a grisly demise. And so, as if suddenly in a state of rare humor, the Puritan laughed aloud and said: “She is your wife, sir? The girl is to my eyes but a child, and though I have heard of ones so young as this being married off perhaps even just that early in life... surely you two did not consummate your marriage as two adults might! That is a thing not done by civilized men. Are you a beast, sir, to defile a child so? I should hope you intend to at least wait until she had her first bleeding before considering it.” This mockery enraged the little girl as her words filled with fury when she thus spoke them unto him: “Bastard! You cross-fucking prick of a man, I know your sort only too well. You judge us for our love for each other? Whilst you have in your time doubtless either frequented the beds of whores or the buttocks of little boys. Get out! Get out now before I decide to kill you myself.” And the nobleman walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, after which the pair kissed like lovers do in order to calm each other's growing rage. The two smiled after their kiss ended, and they turned to regard the Puritan angrily as the nobleman said with no uncertainty as to the stormy fury growing within his heart: “You have mocked my wife, and myself as well in the process! I am indeed... a beast, if you wish to call it that. And either you leave our presence, now, or I and my wife shall together tear you asunder and leave no blood left in your veins to be found by the carrion birds and worms of the soil that will devour your carcass when we are through with it.” And hand in hand, the two creatures of the night manifested swords in their hands, as the two of them took on completely demonic looking forms of the sort Malachi had previously seen but far more feral looking even than that, with the child also having this appearance now as well... the strands of her pale hair floating in the air all about her head as if she were underwater. The Puritan made ready to fight for his life, as the thing that had once been a little girl exclaimed: “Prepare... to meet your God... bastard!”
It was late into the following day when the Puritan strode into the forest wherein his journey to that dark and terrible fortress had begun. He did not have his horse with him, but rather he walked on foot to the campsite where the wild woman once again was sitting upon a log as she tended the fire. She did look up to see the man approaching, and she let a gentle smile play upon her face as she said unto him in a welcoming manner: “I see you managed to overcome what was arrayed against you! Come on, and I will let you have a seat by my fire if you like. All are so welcome, so long as they come in peace and mean me no ill will. Not that the old powers that are at work in these woods would ever actually let any harm come to me anyway! Not as long as I am here, they won't. I may not be a blood drinking vampire, but despite how normal I might look... I am a creature of the night after a different fashion. Like I have said before, I have killed... and not only when I had to. Sometimes, I just have to admit that I honestly, simply felt like it.” She motioned to a charred skull that was burning in the campfire before her. “That one was just for the fun of it!” she exclaimed... and chuckled a bit as she ate some cooked human flesh that she had sliced off of her latest victim. She offered some extra she had nearby to Malachi, but him being the godly man he was, he naturally refused it, knowing in his heart what it was. He was silent as he sat down on the log next to the wild woman who was if truth were put to it no longer the human she appeared to be. Nor had she been in a very long time! She found it odd that his refusal of the meat was a silent one expressed by hand motions rather than words. Likewise, the Puritan was a silent as a grave even as he sat at the woman's side and gazed into the roaring fire. “You must have seen some horrors, for them to have robbed you of your ability to speak! I did warn you though, about what it was as you were getting into. Let me guess... the evil beasts are dead, the countryside is safe now for god-fearing men, women, and innocent little children too! Fine with me, I will definitely not ever be leaving these woods anyway. Sounds like things out there are going to be a lot more boring now, which means I am going to be the only fiend in the area... no more competition from those two vampires to worry about. And, nothing to distract me from luring people into my forest in order to have a bit of fun with them! You made a good blade for hire, you know that? Only... I never promised you any payment, nor did I ever promise you anything at all. So, after you have rested up a bit and leave... do not come back, or as certain as the night is dark here, it will be your skull that burns in my fire.” Malachi remained silent as he continued to stare into the fire without making any motions or facial expressions. He looked blank, more like some kind of an automaton than a living person. The wild woman asked him half mockingly: “So, what happened to your horse, your sword, and your hat? Lost them on the way back, thanks to a pack of highwaymen, that would be my guess! Figures, does it not? Survive a fight with creatures out of Hell, only to fall prey to men who act like they came straight out of Hell. Well like I said, I am not paying you a thing! I have no money to pay you with, and my days of paying debts with my body are long over and done with. Besides, you Puritans are probably too good for that kind of thing anyway, so go with God, my son... and be content with your lot in life. Maybe God will provide?” And she laughed in a very obviously mocking tone that should have made the man quite upset. And yet, he showed not a single sign of being offended as he turned his head and regarded her as blankly and intently as he just was regarding the fire. “Fuck! Stop looking at me like that, you madman... what in the Devil's name is wrong with you, anyway? I get it, you have probably been severely traumatized by everything, but no way in a thousand degrees of Hell's heat does that excuse you staring at me like you either want to fuck me or eat me whole. You getting your cock hard over me or something, mister high and mighty man of God? Well, you can stick it up between your own buttocks for all I care for men anymore!” She was a young and beautiful looking woman in the prime of her life, and sometimes men had designs regarding her that were less than righteous, even men who claimed to be Christian and holy. Even ever since she became what she was now, she remained young and beautiful and had not aged a day since her made the pact that had changed the course of her destiny forever. She had every reason to be cautious of any man who leered at her so bizarrely as Malachi was. “Malachi, stop it! Stop it at once, do you hear me?” she screamed... loudly and in his face, practically... and yet, he continued to look at her in that odd way.
His eyes did not blink, and strangest of all he was not breathing. She gasped when she noticed this, as the Puritan laughed a maniacal laugh and clutched the sides of his face. With several tugs, he pulled the skin off, revealing underneath it the face of the evil vampire nobleman who had slain him. He stripped himself of all of his clothing after standing up, the Puritan's clothing that is, and he afterward in a rather gruesome display divested himself of the rest of Malachi's skin which fell to the ground all in a bloody heap. He wiped the dead man's blood from his face and also from off of his body as best as he was able to using Malachi's undershirt, and allowed his eyes to return to their natural red coloration. The illusion of making them look like the Puritan's eyes using the darkest sorcery had done the work he had hoped it would, and fooled the wild woman utterly. The pale skinned horror that stood before her... was in his demonic form, rather than his human looking one, and he smiled with a mouthful of fangs as he said to the startled, shrieking woman who trembled with fear before him: “Actually, as you can see I rather am hard in the cock for you! And I intend to rape you rather brutally before bringing you back to town and letting all of the town guards have their way with you in public, before giving you over to a mob of the town's worst lowlife and wretched scum. You only have any power at all within these woods, my dear! And my power is greater than yours, by far, as you well know. All why you sent that fool off to try and murder my wife and I... which he failed to do, rather spectacularly I might add. My young wife, she is still feasting upon his remains, as we speak, which is regrettably why she could not accompany me here invisibly to watch me go to work on your body the way I intend to. Nothing to say, my dear lady? Just be aware, that it was the Puritan who told me all I so wanted to know about who had pointed him in my general direction... and that would be you... and where I could find you in order so that I might have my revenge upon you for this act of yours. I still killed him very painfully anyway... well, actually it was I and my wife together who killed him painfully... after we had so managed to defeat him soundly and all too easily in combat and thence tortured him for hours after we made him our special prisoner. Though I do prefer the term 'honored guest' a lot more than words as crude as 'special prisoner'! But, that is all too sadly neither here nor there... spread your legs, slut. It will be far less painful, if you do not resist.” She tried to flee, but the fiendish monster clutched her by the hair and yanked her backwards unto the ground with a great deal of force... where he cast her unto her back and tore her clothes off of her body, before raping her every bit as brutally as he had promised her that he would. Once he had thus finished doing this and left her in tears as she lay sobbing upon the ground, her mind broken by the experience of being forced upon by so terrible a creature as had so violated her... he cast a spell that caused flames to leap forward and outward from the campfire, causing the trees and the dry leaves on the forest floor to be set alight. More and more flames leapt forth, and soon the entire forest was blazing as it burned to the ground with great ferocity and hellish intensity. He carried his defiled victim in his arms as he took the only path that was left not burning and being consumed by flames, and that only because his will so made it wait to be thus consumed until after he was gone from those blazing woods, his captive victim with him. He took her straight away to the town just as he had threatened to do, and had done unto her all the things he threatened that he was going to have done unto her. She was raped nearly to death by every guard in the town followed by a large mob of the worst of the worst that humanity has to offer. In the end, she cried out for vengeance to anything that would listen to her... but nothing answered her call since with the burning of that forest and it now being gone from the face of the earth, there was no way for the old powers that once were at work there to reach her. She was cut off from them, and they from her, and at the last she lay naked and bloody and bruised in the public center of that town... utterly, and savagely, crushed by those she had hoped to either escape or by chance defy. All the will to fight was at last torn from her, and she accepted her dreadful and cruel fate without any questioning. Meanwhile, at their tower overlooking the countryside they ruled with an iron fist, the vampire nobleman and his child wife knew nothing but depraved and perverse happiness as they so relished and reveled in all the things that are considered to be forbidden by most human societies, but which were considered delightful to those of more infernal persuasions. And across all of that land... darkness, did come to reign supreme.
Published 31st Oct 2023
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