Serene snow fell on the cobbles of the Regalian street that was soundless, save the crunching of fur boots upon it. The wearer of the boots was a young Qadir, no more than twenty-five, who shivered as she briskly walked the dim and lonely path, presumably to her residence to find sanctuary and sleep after a longer shift than normal. The hollow breeze sent a deadly quiver throughout the woman’s body, the type of tremble that one wouldn’t shake for the rest of the night. She seemed a little paranoid, peeking now and then over her shoulder, and around empty corners. The worn, cold and tired Qadir muttered a curse to herself, as she found herself a little turned around she’d decided to cut through the outskirts of Hangroad, an Ill-lit and more unkempt part of her journey. It seemed she was heading toward the church, just before the remanence of a figure came into her low field of vision upon the bridge that rose over the small basin she was to cross. The murky blur in the snow was ambiguous to her at best and she was unsure she recognised it as anything but an unmoving and ominous humanoid figure. The cold Qadir thought better of it, tending toward the cautious side, she made her way to another path while lights grew dimmer and dimmer through the alley the Qadir walked through, the snow only fell in the middle of the path due to the ledges of the rooftops that covered it to a point. The Qadir stopped for a moment, taking out a band of siggs, plucking one from it to rest it twixt her dry lips, digging about unknowingly in her jacket, to find a match to no avail. She sighed and looked up to her path, taking a step to begin her trek once more, but stopped, catching a glimpse of another similar figure to the one she’d seen before stepping just out of sight of the alleys corridor. A few blinks came to the Qadir, as she stood for a moment, envisioning what may await her at the end of it. She couldn’t bear the thoughts, as she listened to the rapidly increasing drumming of her own heart. All the while she stood there, afraid to move further, her eyes fixed on the corner the figure had disappeared to for some time. With one last thought passing through her now manic eyes, she buttoned her jacket and rested one of her gloved hands on the cutlass which was hilted by her side, turning to take a step, catching herself from a would-be trip as her boot caught a loose brick, she glanced down to make sure there were no other hazards within her pathing, discovering another pair of uncovered feet that nearly matched the snow they stood upon, but were textured akin to that of a sharks hide. As her gaze flowed upward the legs attached to them made a gradient from the stark white into dingey obsidian followed by a tattered rag at the hips of the emaciated and still figure, further there was a mouth upon its navel, it’s lips seemed to be grinning subtly, above it on the ribs and below the figure’s breasts which were adorned by the same scarce and tattered cloth that ebbed and squirmed perpetually, were two pairs of eyes vertically set and parallel to each other and as her gaze met that of the figures, which were four pale and ghostly blue flames set in a hollowed bulls skull with gnarled horns, the cold breath of the creature burned the petrified Qadirs cheeks and it reached out with white, long and gangly fingers, plucking the sigg from their mouth, lighting it with one of their eyes and offering it back to the paled Qadir, speaking in a hollow, but brief, and echoed croak; “There is no hiding.”. The Qadir made to sprint away, leaving behind the nightmare standing in the alley with her sigg, it did not seem to pursue as she ran blindly though the wind and snow, which collected on her eyelashes. She ran as far as she could to an embering Velheim bonfire near a common lounge, panting and sweating, the Qadir leaned on her knees looking this way and that, before moving to find a crypt, tucked away behind the lounge, safe and filled with torch and candlelight and the various artful coffins and offerings of the Vladno and Velheim, making to sit on the dirt floor, It seemed safe enough to her to stay here, till the night passed. Until within the entrance of the crypt stood the same, terrifying entity, the Qaudir upon seeing this drew her cutlass, and rushed forth with a stalwart battle cry, only to find her arms fixated to the ground by flaming and ethereal black chains, and the torches and candles were shrouded in black shadows from the entities presence. The Qadir pleaded and screamed before a small dagger made from bone, that glow lightly was plunged into their heart. The glow faded from her vision and a brief moment of silence passed as the creature made away with the Qadirs body, drawing and quartering it to consume it her in a victorious and ritualistic feast before she rose in her bed, in a sweat and dressed heavily, the snow still on her boots she manically panned about hyperventilating as she realised the blood was still seeping from her chest. The Qadir was unsure of the reality that was before her. She stumbled blindly in her unlit home, trembling all the while to the bathroom, blood dripping lightly from her layered clothing. The Qadir tore the layers of winter clothing off of her and scrambled through her cabinets as blood began to pool and congeal beneath her as she cradled down beside the door, loosely covering the wound with bandage as once again she was plunged into darkness.
