Categories > Original > Fantasy

Color of Blood

by hufflepuffgirl 0 reviews

Lilith is a girl who's always had a talent for hunting. What will happen when she's forced to move on to the biggest game yet?

Category: Fantasy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Fantasy,Horror - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2012-02-20 - Updated: 2012-02-20 - 333 words

0Unrated
Despite the frozen feeling in her extremeties, Lilith continued to sit statue still in the branches of the birch tree, her piercing blue eyes watching the path below her unwaveringly. Snow drifted around her in a fog and had she not been accustomed to the extreme conditions they created, it would have been impossible for her to see her target.
Her bow was poised and ready, and despite the screaming in her muscles, she held it as steady as she had for the past two hours; she would not have time to ready it once her target appeared. A few minutes later he appeared, carrying a rucksack that gave him a slight limp.
Lilith’s fingers twitched slightly and the arrow shot forward into her target’s heart, and blood spread from the wound like a blooming rose. Lilith dropped from the branches and landed with a soft crunch beside the path. Lilith slid her arms beneath the man’s and dragged him into the forest, hiding him beneath a bush before returning to cover her tracks.
She grabbed the rucksack and through it over her own shoulder before returning to the man, whose eyes had gone blank with death. Lilith sighed softly and closed his eye lids, leaving him to be covered by the heavy snow.
Lilith slipped silently through the trees back to her small hut, but froze as she saw the smoke rising from its chimney. She quickly slipped the knife out of her boot and crouched beneath her own window. She peered through the smudged pane and spotted a figure before the stove, warming their hands over a flame.
Lilith sighed and walked into her house quietly. “What are you doing here Christophe?”
“Ah, Lilith, I was wondering how long I’d be waiting here for you.”
“Cut to the chase. I don’t have time to waste.”
“Very well. I have a job for you.”
“An assassination?”
“Yes, and it pays highly.”
“Who?”
Christophe smiled sardonicly. “The prince.”
Sign up to rate and review this story