Futile Revenge
Prologue
Cynthia clutched her dagger close to her thumping heart as she peered around the castle grounds. Waves of mist rolled around the decrepit gray building in the moonlight like wandering spirits and the scent of damp earth lingered in her nose. The girls' long black hair was matted and stiff with blood and sweat and her tan face, smeared with it. The tights she was wearing beneath her ripped and faded pink tunic were badly nicked in several places and she had various cuts and bruises about her body. Despite this, she was fueled by hatred, by love, by the thought of revenge. Now as she saw another soldier guarding the perimeter she sped forward, her lucid green eyes not perceiving a 6'4 golem, only another victim to kill. Her silver dagger in hand, she charged for the creature with lightning ferocity but to her surprise, he was fast as well, bringing his enormous iron ax out in front of him to deflect her attack. The impact of her hitting the broad blade caused her to fall backwards, but she gripped her small weapon tightly.
Now the golem was towering over her, ax raised and he brought it down swiftly but Cynthia managed to roll out of its range and flip agilely back onto her feet, slicing at her opponent's arm which didn't spill an ounce of blood. He turned his milky white eyes towards her and growled in agitation, flinging a punch in her direction but she dodged it and leapt at him again, thrusting her dagger into his shoulder this time. Still he seemed to be more irritated than injured like a person being bitten by a mosquito and yet again there was no blood. He hurled her off of him; the dagger still lodged in his shoulder blade. As if it was an afterthought, he pulled it out and flung it over his back while cracking his knuckles and walking towards her. Even weaponless, Cynthia could feel nothing but malice and detestation and she charged towards the brute, arms at the ready. She was struck oppressively by the flat of the ax and sent flying, a purple bruise already forming on her cheek but she stubbornly pulled herself up again and then stopped suddenly.
The golem was no longer paying her any mind and had turned towards a dark red-eyed figure dressed in black armor. "Astaroth, we have some unwanted visitors that I need you to take care of," said the knight in his deep voice. "But Nightmare," protested Astaroth, "I'm fighting that girl over there. She is intent on doing harm." Nightmare turned his head towards the girl and his glowing red eyes radiated hostility. Cynthia could feel her rage expanding as she recognized her parents' killer and she stood firmly where she was, her eyes glaring dead into the knights'. He then turned back towards Astaroth and said, "She does not even possess a weapon. Do not waste your time with her." The golem nodded and stalked off towards the front of the ancient castle. These words only spurred on Cynthia's rage as the knight turned to depart. He had never noticed her before and now that he finally had, she wasn't even worth fighting? The girl dashed towards where her dagger had been thrown but by the time it was in her hands the knight had vanished. She sheathed it furiously but swore to herself that she would acquire her revenge.
A thin sorrel tabby cat perched outside of Cynthia's bedroom window, mewing to be let in as she slept soundly. The young girl stretched and yawned widely, rubbing her aqua green eyes and then smiling sleepily. "Opal, you never want to come inside at night... what's the matter? The hunting's not good tonight?" The cat replied with a louder yowl and began to scratch at the window with his small white paws; gray eyes wide with fear. "Oh... the neighbor's dog got out again? Is that it, scaredy cat?" she giggled, pulling up the window and letting the feline dart inside. He instantly fled underneath her bed without another sound. Looking befuddled by the cats' strange behavior, the young teen peered outside of her window and once she did she knew what was wrong. Fire was ravaging many of the village houses and the citizens were screaming in horror and panic, fleeing from a lone dark figure. At first she could not make it out but as it came closer, it revealed itself to be a knight dressed in black armor and wielding a hideous sword that was as tall as him. In the center of its meaty mass, was a large round gray eye that swiveled around in its socket appearing to watch the chaos that ensued.
With a single swing of this red blade, the knight succeeded in killing his victims and absorbing a wispy something from their slaughtered bodies. Cynthia pulled away from the window, tears of abhorrence in her eyes. She tried to lure Opal from under the bed but the cat stayed there stubbornly and hissed and scratched when she endeavored to pull him from underneath it. Finally she let the cat be and dashed into her parents' room, screaming to them the events that were taking place. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes and crawled out of bed to look out of the kitchen window and their eyes were soon aghast. "We must hurry up and flee!" cried her father, grabbing his coat and pulling them all towards the door. Cynthia ran beside her parents, the heat of fire stinging the back of her and the cool night air, the front. All around her were the shrieks and wailing of fellow citizens but she tried to drown them out and focus on the path ahead.
They were fairly close to the outskirts of the village so they would have a chance of escape. Others were fleeing along with them, one being Cynthia's best friend, Rachael and her family and a bit of relief spread over her. Suddenly, she heard her father's voice cry out in agony and blood sprayed upon her, peppering her clothes. She was too frightened to turn and watch, though. The sight of what might be there to greet her eyes too painful to bear so she continued running even when her mother's scream rang through her ears as well. Tears blurred her vision but fear spurred her onwards and soon she was sobbing silently inside of a clump of bushes as the distant screams and roar of fire could still be detected.