Ginger's fingers danced across the food she prepared, smiling as she stood up, and walked towards Freidaheld. She shook his shoulder gently, "hey, hey, it's time to wake up!" She yelled into his ear.
Friedaheld jolted from his semi-peaceful sleep, pressing his dagger to her throat; eyes burning brightly with a dull, golden glow. His teeth bared and his eyes narrowed in fury, with the dark pupils slitted. Blinking drowsily, he drew back a bit, “ Sorry...I ..uh...I’m not used to living with someone..” He said looking away, skin slightly red.
Ginger massaged her neck gently, with an apologetic smile, "no, it's my fault. I know you’re a little on edge as it is.'' She gestured to the food on the small, oak table next to the fire, "I made food. I'm not expecting you to eat it all; you look kind of skinny. So I won’t be offended."
Ginger smiled again, and sat down at the table with crossed legs.
Friedahled got up and moved to the table sheathing the weapon.
As he went to take his seat on the cold floor, he felt a cold presence brush against his skin. The hairs on the back of his neck raised. He shivered a bit but nodded with something that could be called a smile. "Its been a while since I have had a chance to eat a decent meal,” he informed her, “though I do hunt when I can."
He stared down at the basic but deliciously-smelling meal opposite him, digging into the food ravenously. He didn’t want to appear like a starved animal, but he couldn’t help it. Throughout their meal, they made polite, awkward small talk about hunting animals and how they went about it. Until Friedaheld glanced up, noticing how the shadows flickered and moved.
"What's wrong?" Ginger enquired curiously, frowning at his grimace, "is it the draft? I feel it too, where did it come from?" The tiny girl shivered, rubbing her palms together. Friedaheld spared her a dismissive glance before turning back to his food; picking the food up with his fingers, stuffing his mouth with it. Ginger smiled fondly, as though her child had taken its first steps before looking up out of the window, her eyebrows shot up in surprise, "my Lord, when did it get that dark?"
Friedaheld's head snapped up, he had a fearful and startled expression on his face.
"Ginger," he whispered, standing up as the darkness seemed to cover the whole house like a dense blanket, a slightly blackish gold aura was all that was keeping light as the hearth fire and candles went out, smoke swirling around their once lit embers and wicks ominously.
The peculiar aura was coming from none other than Friedaheld as he clasped the handles of his daggers.
"Show yourself,” he growled and the shadows around him seemed to writhe, whispering to him. A tall languid woman stepped out of the black, a robe covering her elegant form and a hood hung low over her head.
"It has been too long child," she said deceivingly warmly, displaying a large, frightening smile. Almost as soon as those words passed her lips, the angry man sliced at her with his blade; merely catching the side of her sleeve.
"What?" Ginger breathed, "what on earth are you?" She stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet.
A blood curdling scream was released as she did so, Friedaheld and the women both looked over in a lapse of concentration. The pair slammed their hands over their ears as blood trickled down off their earlobes; Ginger's scream reverberating continuously in the air. She couldn't stop, all she saw was blood.
Blood covered houses.
Family, enemies, friends were all dead, lying on the ground in unnatural positions. Gore splattered the horrified faces, dripping off their clothes as they bled out of random places.
A golden flame enveloped Ginger's tiny frame, she flung out her arms, releasing the pent up energy which had been building up inside of her since the very first day she had seen light.
Friedaheld collapsed in a heap on the ground, palms still pressed tightly to his crimson-soaked ears, the warm liquid of his life force trickling through the gaps in his fingers.
"Gin....ger..." he groaned through gritted teeth. But she didn’t spare him a glance.
Her eyes were set cruelly onto the women, who was frozen where she stood.