Into the Wood work

[Telguest]

It could practically be tasted, three floors to that lofty goal, so close. Boots moved silently over the polished floor, leaving not a print or smudge in their doe skinned wake. Silent, swift. No hesitation wavered those purposeful steps. Dressed in nondescript black, there was little to draw attention to this particular intruder. The hour was intentionally late, chosen purely for the quiet that the inn was filled with. Observation had ensured and allowed this choice to have been made at leisure.

Even the perfect plan often failed in the face of the unexpected.

Mounting the first steps left legs working in rhythmic harmony. Carrying their owner upwards, quickly closer to their goal. Twelve. Rounding the first landing had been sudden. Any tenants happening to peep out their doors might imagine it had merely been a shadow flitting across the landing. Refusing to be slowed, despite the sighting of anyone who may have possibly taken note. Twenty-four.

One quick glance darted along the length of the second floor hall. Just enough to ensure nothing untoward was waiting to spring. The sound of someone scrubbing laundry came down the hall, just loud enough to be heard over the gentle swish of cloth and sigh of slow coming breath. One final flight of stairs to the top floor of the inn. To the goal that had been so sought after since her presence had been realized... Thirty-Eight. Third floor. No more stairs and with the object of desire. Those portals leading into the luxury suites had never been breached, the innards totally unknown. Of which the import was little....


Room three-oh-three, belonging to one Malice Sinclair Kinkaid.

There was much history that the name brought to mind. History both good and bad, pleasant and non. One hand lifted trapped within a leather glove. A short slit upon the tip of the extended index finger allowed a sharpened nail tip to extend, Channeling the lightning that darkened the wood, forming words as quickly as the finger that directed it could move. Once complete, that shadow was quick to return the way it had come. Once more remaining as silent as quick as possible. The note was short enough that it only took a minute or so for it to have been completed. It read as follows for all to see:

Ms. Kinkaid,
It has been a long time since you and I have seen one
another. Time spent in thought, suffering, pain and fear.
You always did love to show someone a good time, until
we resolve unfinished business there will remain much in
my thoughts.


There was no formal signature left behind. Simply a single letter that glowed with a soft blue light, a capital ...

K.

[The Sadist]

How long had it been since she had physically occupied her room? Damn near a year now, but appearances were kept up so no one would be the wiser...well with the exception of her sister. Everything remained the same in Room 303, immaculately kept despite her absence. She had made arrangements with a certain someone to look after things while the Immortal daughter took care of business...yes business that had consumed all of her time.

It was late when she arrived back at the Inn. The early morning had a crisp chill to it that suited her demeanor. She was thankful she wouldn't be running into anyone, most should be tucked away into their beds. With each steady step the carried her closer to her room, her beloved shadows seemed to grow more agitated. Perhaps it was nothing more than exhaustion, or the displeasure of what she had done, either way she now stood before her door.

Pierced brow arched as gloved fingers came to lift the note from her door. It hadn't been there long or she would have been notified of it's arrival. Liquid depths of mercury read over each letter.Ms Kinkaid--always loved to show someone a good time She wasn't sure if that was meant to be an insult to her character but quite frankly she didn't care. The single letter signature didn't send anyone to the forefront of her mind as the note as crumpled into her palm.

Key was retrieved from the slender chain around her neck and wooden structure was soon moving away from her. Over threshold petite frame would step. Until the anonymous letter writer returned, Malice would calmly wait within the confines and security of her shadows. With any luck she would not be kept waiting long. Patience was a virtue, a virtue she did not have. Seeking solace in the over sized chair, eyes narrowed on the now closed door.

[Telguest]

It couldn't have been long that the message had been waiting. For the scorch marks that had been made in the wood by that channeled lightning had not yet cooled to the touch. The faint stink of charred wood had greeted those sensitive nostrils of The Daughter of Darkness. Her room had remained totally undisturbed, so obviously whoever it was had expected her not to be within!

The Sadist's unique scent had been what betrayed her arrival. One that could not be forgotten. By this unfortunate soul. Jasmine and Magnolia. That mixture of scents that had been her perfume, since the first time that it had tickled the tongue and nostrils of this particular shade from her past. Even now eyes were closing to simply reflect upon this sudden fresh reminder of the task at hand. One that had been heavy in the bearers mind for years. Nearly six years it had been since they had gone their separate ways, but not before Malice had left her mark.

A mark that had been the cause of pain and a twisted sort of torture that was cruel beyond proper description.

Malice would not be kept waiting long, the hunger for this meeting would not allow the outcome to be anything but swift in coming! The stairs were once more under assault, though this time there was no hurried storming, the ascent was leisurely. Unhurried. Leather clad hands were occupied, the left hissing perceptibly with it's light caress drawing along the bannister, the right balled into a fist at their side. May hap those shadows would report to her, warn her of the being upon the stairs. To tell her what they could about this stranger who moved with purpose.

Tall and long of stride, clad in pants that were skin tight at waist and ankle, slightly looser in the thigh and baggy in the calves. Silk if the quiet swish of each step could be trusted. Steps that had been quiet and quick had grown heavy, there would be no sneaking now that her presence was assured. A tunic of the same hue and feel of the pants completed the base of the strangers outfit. Never mind the leather gloves or the cloak that billowed around wide shoulders. A silver chain with a blue gemstone held it shut and added it's soft jingle to the cacophony of sound that this stranger was making. The hood that hung low obscuring features, which were further swathed with a wrap.

Then she could hear those heavy steps herself, echoing loudly in the depth of silence that pervaded the inn. Their aurally tracked path soon paused before her door. The sound of deep breaths rushing into hungry lungs came through the heavy wood; despite it's noise dampening qualities. One could almost imagine an oversized dog checking to see if it's Mistress had returned, or if the scent was merely that of an intruder. Though it wasn't more than a moment after that the handle was being turned, twisted sharply. Hopefully the door was unlocked! If it hadn't been, the door's handle would be wrenched violently. While silence would have been preferred ... her visitor would not mind shattering handle, bolt and pins with that strong grasp!

Once the door was loose in it's frame it was pushed open, framing the silhouette of a large being, broad shoulders and lofty height were indicative of the male sex. Eyes flashed briefly a softly glowing blue, though one slowly gave way to a muted purple interspersed with flecks of red. Though the grating voice that rasped from behind that wrap would quickly confirm any suspicions. "Malice. It's a pleasure to see you again." Though the mans tone would perhaps make the truth of that statement questionable! He had spent years cursing her, allowing the betrayal that she had done to him rankle and putrefy until it had poisoned what had once been loyalty beyond what any other had shown her. Loyalty that had left him at her side, lovingly remaining there despite others like Zane and St. James. Now she had another. "Though, where are my manners, I doubt you recognize me ..."

The voice, the figure. None of it would likely ring a bell to her. The facade that he had adopted in order to deal with what she had done to him was naught like those he had ever taken before!

Then it came, a stomach flopping and jarring noise. The sound of snapping bone and tearing flesh. One that she might not have heard with such suddenness or lack of warning in nigh on six years now. It sounded almost as if her 'guest' were being turned inside out. Not long after the noise began, clothing shredded and tore. Blood that had gushed from freshly opening wounds coated the floor, spreading a crimson mist through the light spilling in from the hall. Spines of bone tearing from the figures back even while his form grew, legs buckling, leaving the twisted mass of flesh and exposed bone dropping to one palm and a thickening knee. All the while, those mismatched eyes watched her, staring at the woman that had caused all of this suffering in the first place! Facial wrap had dropped from his head when it had begun to change, the long snout that had burst from the human face spreading wide, jaws filling with sharp finger length teeth. Gloves bursting so that long talon tipped fingers were able to splinter wood from the floor. Those shards of bone were growing, stitching together with thin membrane even while lengthening spine spilled across the floor. All the while tanned human skin darkened and thickened, just as long hair that had been piled down the back of the cloak changed and parted around the sudden jut of twin jet black horns that swept back from his skull.

The transformation was over in the span of a several human breaths, the violence of the transformation made it seem to go on far longer though! By the time all was said and done however, perhaps she would recognize her visitor, even before he was pushing to his broad long toed feet, balancing on the front of the foot while a fifth long toe hung down from the back. It's claw clicking quietly upon the wood even while broad wings flicked open. His blood had spoiled the perfection of her room with the thick viscous gold that Malice should have remembered feasting upon. However, there was something terribly wrong at the same time. Scales upon hands and forearms as well as his feet were darkened when they should have been that perfect sapphire blue, flaking and varied from the color of ash to the darkness of coal. Revealing raw skin beneath, that deep gravelly voice that had always been one of her finest points of council also came out raw, croaking, the laboring of lungs obvious. "Maybe you recognize me now, Malice."

If she didn't recall this draconic shadow from her past, then time truly had been cruel to the Khell that she had once known.

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