Ch.13

In the dead of night, through the corpse-filled forest where her den was located, Marasia dragged the woman's body, severed in two.

Days later, a caravan of soldiers sent by the local lord, rode up on horseback into the village where they found the deceased villagers.

The sight was gruesome and the bodies had begun to rot.

The soldiers split up and began to investigate the village.

"The tax collector was telling the truth. A part of me believed this would be a hoax." Said one of the soldiers.

Another, covering his nose, looked down at the bodies with a discouraged look. "How tragic. Looks like the wolves got to them."

It was then that a soldier checking inside one of the homes, stumbled across something. He immediately alerted the rest of his comrades, and out from the home, he carried on his back a survivor whose face was terribly swollen and covered in black and dried blood.

The soldiers all rushed over, troubled by the state the woman was in, as seen by the dirtied and ragged dress covering her awfully slim body.

"Shit... They alive?"

"Seem to be." Said the soldier carrying them, slowly lowering himself, while another, taking out his flask, carefully poured some water into her mouth.

She was seemingly conscious but hardly moved as if even the slightest spasm was not worth the pain.

The woman's face was covered in blood, and her face was swollen beyond recognition.

"You two, escort this civilian to the physician immediately, the rest of us will continue to search for survivors." Their commander ordered.

Days later, she would reawaken in a small room atop a comfy bed. She was wrapped in bandages that covered her face completely, as well as her body and hands, her face still swollen, and her cuts yet to fully close. In her attempt to pull herself up, which she did so strugglingly, her hand, which her finger's nails looked like they had all been chewed off, knocked against the table next to the bed, causing the glass of water to topple over and clatter against the floor.

Moments later, an older man wearing a robe walked in. He was calm and quick to reassure her.

"You are all right, you are safe." He said, picking up the glass from the floor and placing it back on the table. "I am a physician. You are currently in recovering, so do not stress yourself. You are in Grendwood, under the protection of Count Vulel. Do you remember what happened to you?"

The woman relaxed her body, and trying to speak, a hoarse and rough voice came out. "I... Do..."

The body of the monster had arrived brought from the cavern, all the way to the town by wagon. It reeked of dead fish, the corpse which had begun to rot away and had been exposed to the sun and heat.

As the wagon rode into town, the people looked in awe at the creature, the large serpent body was like that of a snake with its head cut off, and the upper body of a woman. Mothers shielded the eyes of their children at the sight of the corpse.

The body was brought before the castle, where the count looked over the body.

"By all that is holy... What is it?"

His court wizard, an old man barely holding onto his life, answered the count's question with enthusiasm.

"Ho, ho, ho, milord." He chuckled. "This... Yes, this is a lamia. Fascinating!"

"A lamia?"

"Yes. A demonic creature, a succubus that preys on men to breed and feast upon. They are quite similar to humans. In fact, you could call them half man, half monster, though their species consists only of women."

"Hm. And could it have massacred a whole village by itself? Or are there more out there."

"Hmm..." The wizard stroked his thin white beard. "Well, that depends. May I?" He took out a knife, gesturing with it as he bounced it in his hand.

"It is already dead." The count flicked his hand.

"Thank you, miliege."

He stepped up onto the wagon, cutting into the corpse, though struggling and already out of breath.

"Aha! Yes... It is fertile. They are similar to human women, age the same, carry the same, inseminated the same... But, they lay eggs, rather than carry them. In fact, they could be quite useful in alchemy..." He turned to the count, holding one of the slimy eggs in his hand. "Could I...?"

"Yes, yes." The count said, rather annoyed at the old wizard's greediness. "Take it, now get on with the explanation, Iglin."

"Of course, milord. My apologies." He cleared his throat. "Lamias are cannibalistic, and will often eat their young to survive if needed. This one seems young, very fertile. I believe between the age of thirteen and sixteen years of age. It is unlikely that it has any children who could have assisted it in the untimely killings. However... It might have sisters."

"Sisters? Curse it all!"

At the corner of the old wizard's eye, his pupil drew to the upper part of the body. He raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer to the woman. His eyes both opened wide with uncertainty.

"M... My liege!! I do not believe this is a lamia anymore."

"Huh? What do you mean, Iglin?!"

The old wizard tossed his knife away and fell onto the woman's corpse. He felt up her breasts for a moment, before sticking his hand into the mouth and looking inside.

"Iglin?!" The count shouted from behind, wanting answers.

"Miliege, this is a woman."

"Huh? Of course it's a woman."

"No, I mean, a human woman. This is no monster. This is a human woman's corpse."

"What?! How can you tell?"

"She has no fangs, her pupils are round, and her nails. I have read they should be black and sharp, talons for carving flesh, if it be a monster, but they are not. They are normal, merely stained with dirt."

It was then, overhearing the old wizard's rambles, that one of the soldiers remembered something. He approached the count, his arm on his chest and with the slightest bow. "Milord! I, I have just remembered something." He spoke with nervousness and uncertainty as if he feared making a fool of himself.

"What is it, man? Speak!"

"Milord... The woman we saved. I noticed something about her, that I think you should hear."

That night, the woman slept peacefully as men outside surrounded the building.

The physician opened the door to the room, slowly, as quietly as he could, and with a lantern in one hand lighting the way. He crept his way inside, the wooden boards creaking softly with each step he took.

Two men followed behind him.

He made his way over to the unconscious woman and glances at her nails. They were black, broken, and gnarled as if they had been chewed off.

With a pair of scissors, he cut the bandage around her face.

He placed the scissors down on the bed, raised up his lantern ever so slightly, and peeled open her eye to see the slitted eyes of a viper.

Fear coated him, running down and across his skin like a cold rain.

His breathing became hectic as reality sunk in, as did the men by his side who shuddered in fear.

All but one of the men backed off, with the remaining one raising their hands, clasping a small dagger aimed downward.

He was soon to plunge the sharp iron into her chest, but before he mustered up the strength, she awoke.

"Fuck!" He yelped; all three stumbled back in shock; the physician dropping the lantern he was carrying. The glass cracked open as the metal hit the wood, oil spilling out, and the fire quickly spreading.

The men were quick to flee as the fire began to burn away at the dry wood, leaving the woman, Marasia, to fend for herself as she fell off the bed in pain.

She was still hurt, reeling from the pain of her wounds that could tear open at any second as she began to hyperventilate. That, mixed with the cloud of smoke forming all around her, breathing became a difficult and painful chore.

She grit her teeth and tore off the bandages which covered her head and blocked her vision. She pulled herself up, kneeling on one of her legs as she forced herself to stand, an excruciatingly pain endeavor.

She stumbled to the side, barely able to hold herself up. It was quite literally like trying to walk for the first time, which held a tone of excitement despite the chaos and danger ensuring around her.

The building quickly began to collapse around her as she made her way to the next room. She grabbed a heap of bandages, and vials atop shelves before slipping away.

The town's guards just outside watched as the building burned to the ground in a bright pit of ash and fury.

Marasia had managed to get away just outside the town walls where she quickly treated her wounds.

She tore off the bloodied rags wrapped around her hips, revealing a gnarly and deep cut that went all the way around, stitched together with thick threads of linen.

Her thin lips twisted into a wry grin as she unsteadily straightened her legs through the grass. She chuckled, soon turning into heartfelt laughter, then a maddening cackle.