Blood in the Snow
Chapter 1
The Ice Princess
A shrill, excruciating scream that was capable of shattering glass escaped her lips. It was quickly swallowed up by the dense surrounding forest filled with overgrown but stripped trees. In the distance a large creature howled and seemed to echo her sentiments. The seemingly soft and fluffy snow was coarse and unforgiving as it crunched underneath her bare feet, but nevertheless she continued over the remorseless terrain, exhausted and alone. The snow was so heavy and engulfing it reached well above her exposed ankles, almost to the knee. For such a cold winter's night, the wind was still and eerily quiet. An ebbing flow of crimson warm fluid slid down her inner thigh and was quickly absorbed by the contrasting pure white snow beneath her. The vermillion life substance was easily visible under the moonlight and it was beautiful in its magnificence. Her milky white flesh was now changing to a bluish and pink tone due to the extremely low temperatures. Hypothermia was setting in and she was shaking uncontrollably. The cold stabbed at her cells as if they were razor sharp blades. She wore no shoes, and her legs were bare. The only clothing covering her nakedness was a flimsy piece of white linen cloth which was barely able to be classified as a dress and a medium length black cloak which was two sizes too big. Her mind was blank and clouded.
She had no recollection of who she was or how she had come to be in such a detrimental predicament. Only the basic of instincts drove her forward, the instinct to survive and the will to live. As she slowly progressed onward, the snow became more and more difficult to trudge through and her hemorrhaging had left a trail of scattered blood in her wake. Feeling light-headed and in danger of collapsing any minute, she stopped and the blood became a pool underneath her. It quickly expanded in diameter and the pure white snow had become stained with cherry red. The brilliant color marvelously contrasted against the landscape's black, white and grey palette. The harsh winter had killed off the once living vegetation and the only proof of life within miles was her warm blood.
Slowly, she reached down to feel where the blood was flowing from. She moved her hand up her inner thigh to between her legs. There was nothing but pain and a sharp ache that radiated through her entire being. All strength drained away from her lower body and her knees buckled from under her. Only the harsh snow broke her fall. She landed on her back but twisted herself into a fetal position. From her new viewpoint she looked up into the heavens and saw the stars in the distance, shinning brilliantly. Icicles
and frost formed throughout her long black hair and eyebrows. Her warm breath created steam as it escaped her pale pink quivering lips. It could have been a hallucination because she hadn't heard any approaching footprints but she thought she could see a tall dark lone figure standing over her which was puzzling because she heard two totally different voices speaking.
"What do we have here?" Lefthand asked inquisitively but with his usual sarcasm.
"She's dying." Another more solemn and somber voice replied that was devoid of urgency.
"She's not human." Lefthand said. "But she doesn't appear to be Nobility either."
"Dhampir?" The clearer of the voices said.
"No." Lefthand replied with an edge of curiosity. "Dhampir's and Nobles do not bleed like this. And a human would have been long dead by now from such blood loss. She is something we've never seen before."
The tall figure reached out a long slender arm and put its hand on her thigh, touching her blood. The touch wasn't warm but it wasn't cold either. She didn't know if the figure dressed in black would kill her or save her.
"Who are you?" He asked her without any emotion. The question was concise and to the point. Although graceful and otherworldly, she realized that the figure was definitely male.
"I…don't know." She said with all honesty.
After a moment, he withdrew his arm, turned and began to walk away. Realizing that he may be her only chance for survival, she extended her limp arm, her hand stretched out. It took all her strength but she was glad she could do it.
"Please…." Was all she could say.
The figure stopped but still kept his back to her.
"I don't want to die, not here, not like this." She whispered up at him. Eternity hung in the balance of weightlessness. Hope was cradled despondently by a single entity and death seemed to be bonded with existence itself.
There was no movement. She closed her eyes and felt the last few breaths escape from her body. Her delicate but well rounded lips had now turned blue and felt dry and rough. As her vision blurred and consciousness withdrew, she heard a conversion continue.
"She'll be more trouble than she's worth." The gruff voice warned. "Why do you always become involved with damsels in distress?"
"The dead don't pay."
"What makes you think she has any money?"
"Something tells me someone went to a lot of effort to have her killed." The voice stated. "Noble or not, someone went to a lot of effort to see her dead." D carefully pushed aside part of the cloak revealing a strange symbol on her wrist. It was a mark of the nobility and one D hadn't seen in many years.
"It seems she is property of the Nobility. A creation of theirs perhaps?"
By this time, she had slipped into unconsciousness and didn't feel the slender hands slide beneath her delicate frame and cut through the snow as if it didn't exist. In one swift motion, the dark figure plucked her from an icy oblivion and carried her to a destination unknown.
