Through the smoke and fog, I see something. I cannot make out what I am seeing, but I hear sounds muffled, like I'm trapped under ice. It's dense and thick, yet I'm being pulled ever closer to the scene before me. Gravity has a hold on me.
When I'm finally able to see, I'm looking through eyes that I don't believe are mine. I'm no longer a sewer, nor am I back in the woods. Now, I'm back in the tavern. No. I'm in a house. A kettle sits on the stove, hissing and pouring steam. I'm at a table with baked goods laid before me, bread, cookies, and tarts. The walls are wooden, and the floor creaks. Stairs led to the second floor.
Someone is coming down the stairs. Their feet knaw at the wood with every step. I watch the woman dress in black, pale skin, ruby eyes, with hair of dark silk. I know her, she's Sabrina. The woman who had her way with me in town. My head aches thinking about that, fog clouds my mind's eyes, and I'm unable to think back to that time.
This must be a vision of the past.
She walks slowly to me, sitting down at the table across from me. Slicing the bread and passing some to me. Her skin is fair and pale like snow against a harsh background, hair of black silk woven into the night sky, and those rubies that lie in her eyes shine like they have their own light to reflect. She's a peculiar woman, but pretty all the same. I feel something in my body rise, a heat that I didn't know was there.
I think of my wife, and the heat begins to cool.
Sabrina stares at me, cocking her head to the side like something is lying under my skin that she cannot place. That makes two of us.
"Eat the bread," She purrs. "You are going to need your strength for this journey."
I look down and finger the bread with fingers too delicate and slim for my own. These are dainty hands, no longer made for killing beasts, no, these are hands made for love and tender touch. These hands are not mine. They grab the bread and begin to eat it, bringing my gaze back to the woman clad in black.
Her lips purse, and my body begins to long for touch.
"I will tell you as much as I can, dear. Though you may know, what I am going to tell you may hurt. I will ease your pain. I will make you feel so much better."
My head shakes, and I speak, but the words are muffled and incomprehensible.
She sighs.
"You are in Rapna, the City of Stars. This is must know, for your husband is here participating in the hunt, correct?"
Husband? This cannot be. I cannot be looking through.
My head shakes, and words again come, still incomprehensible.
"The hunt has never been completed," she continues, "For all my years living in this house, I have seen many travelers come through this city. All seeking the same thing. The prize that is to be awarded at the end of the hunt. None of them ever survived. I saw them here or on the streets. Then they were never seen again. The pope would announce that the hunt was again unsuccessful." She sighs again. "No one knows the meaning of this hunt, and no one ever will because no one will survive. Your husband, Ezra, is no different."
At the sound of my name, the mood shifts. These words are stronger and louder, concerned.
"Yes, dear, I did meet him," she rests her hand on the thigh of whom I believe is my wife. "He came into my home. He was seeking refuge after fighting and killing a man in the street."
My gaze lowers, and I'm staring at the pale limbs of the woman before me, such a beautiful contrast against the black dress that covers her body. A hand reaches out, touching my chin and guiding my gaze back towards her eyes.
"I helped him. Gave him food and drink. Allowed him to use my facilities to clean himself. I did the same as I have done for you, or would have if you had been covered in blood."
Her hand is still lingering on the thigh of my wife, gently caressing her with a tender touch. Her other hand is now on the table. She takes a tart and eats it slowly, staring into my eyes, licking her lips. I feel as though she knows that I am watching, like this is all some sort of game to her. What looks to be cherry preservatives drip down her chin and splash against her dress. She places the tart onto the table and wipes herself clean. With the perspiration on her finger, she begins to lick it off, losing no eye contact in the process. Each movement is calculated and sensual, like she is teasing and toying with me.
"He is a good man, Ezra. My dear, you're lucky to have someone like that in your life. Someone risking everything on a fool's journey that could pay off in the end but will most likely end in tragedy." She smiles, her ruby lips seeping with seduction.
No words come from my wife. Sabrina inches closer, coming to the edge of her seat, both hands now resting on Lenora's thighs.
"There is more to this story," she whispers, "Though I don't know if you will be able to handle the truth of these matters."
Lenora nods and says muffled but calm words as Sabrina's hands move over my wife's body, gliding to her hips. She is so close now that I feel I could smell her breath if I were in the room or this were my body. I know that I would smell and taste the peppermint that lingers on her lips and nuzzles her tongue.
"He's such a handsome man," she purrs, "he talked of you. Of your beauty, your charm, the way your hair falls to the wind, how you pur his name while you make love, how he would never have eyes for another." She sighs, "I know that I had to have him because he was unlike any man who has come into my house. Unlike any man that I have met during my long life. So, I took him."
Sabrina's hand rubs Lenora's thighs, but Lenora's hand moves swiftly without losing grace. She smacks Sabrina across the face, leaving a red mark against her pale skin. She tries to stand but is unable to move, looking down to see that she is holding her by her thighs.
"You have much more tenacity than he did, but I see that you already know what I want." Her grip tightens, and Lenora makes a sound that I cannot hear. She closes her eyes like she is wincing from pain. I'm helpless to do anything that would support her. I'm nothing more than a bystander watching this story unfold.
"Oh my dear," she purrs, "I like it rough."
Eyes opening, I see her face so close now that her eyes look like the sun shining low in the sky. I see the wetness of her lips.
"I had to beg for it from Ezra, but he gave in." Her voice changes, now blunt and filled with malice. "I took him full, wrapping my body around his. Sucking the life from him. I made him feel more like a man than he has ever felt. He ravaged my body, exactly like I told him to. And when he was ready, I made him give me his seed, and he planted it with such care. He moaned my name and forgot all about the wife that he had left for this journey."
I feel the tears from down Lenora's face and see the twisted pleasure in Sabrina's eyes.
"Oh dear. Please, don't cry. He loved it. He was happy." She says tenderly. "Now, I'm going to make you happy as I ravage your body the same way he did mine."
She releases her grip from Lenora's thighs and smacks her across the face. The vision flies, and before I know it, her hand is wrapped around Lenora's throat, and she's pleasuring herself with her other hand. She smacks her again, and Lenora's visions begin to fade.
I see brief flashes of light with small pictures between the spells of darkness. I see Sabrina's face pressed against Lenora's. I see her licking between my wife's legs, touching her body, and inserting things inside of her. I see Sabrina's pale skin wrapped around my wife, her breasts hovering above her face. She aroused. She moans.
Then she begins biting Lenora. His lips run with blood, he licks them with pleasure, and continues.