40 years I have been stuck in this horrid place tortured and controlled by a man I am determined to kill. His blasted seal on my body, that damned witches brand. I fear I will never escape as with a witches brand he has full control over me. He should be dead by now. He was 65 and sick when he called on me, and after forcing his brand upon me he has used my power to keep him young and spry. He has used me to make him a Lord, a rich and powerful Lord. At some points I wish I were dead as this torture is not only painful but very shameful to my proud nature. I have lived for hundreds of years and have survived the most horrid witch burnings, I will not go down and become nothing, especially from a man so pathetic as this.

I am bleeding and wheezing on the cold stone floor in this damned Lords dungeon. Nearly every night for the last 40 years he has taken his pleasures in beating me, and his revolting brand prevents me from fighting him. It makes me weak and I can not use my powers unless he commands me to. DAMN! I hate this man and I will destroy his very being. He will seek another demon to save him from my wrath, but it will do nothing. With every lash to my olive skin I hate him more and more. It was only the knocking on the big wooden doors in the front hallway that halts his whippings. "Who could be here at this hour! I will be back my darling, don't go anywhere." He says with this malicious grin I am so tempted to smack off his disgusting face. Minutes pass when a familiar smell passes under my nose. My hopes rise as I quickly cover my wounds and fix my skirt. I run up the cold stone stairway and follow the scent pleasing my senses. Just as I find the room the smells originates from my "master" comes out with a wicked smile on his face. "Ah, my dear, what perfect timing. I was just coming to fetch you. Do go and prepare some tea for me and my guests."

"Yes, my Lord." I reluctantly say with smite in my voice. The horrid Lord returns to the room and I fetch the refreshments. I return from the kitchen and the smell only gets stronger and my heart beats faster and faster. I can not remember the last time I felt this way, the excitement and lust is unreal. Whatever this being is I plan to drain him of all power and use it to free myself from these bonds. I open the door and walking closer towards the guests I get a better look at the two late visitors. A young boy I assume at the age of 12 is sitting quite properly on the blood red living chair. He is wearing the most beautiful shade of blue with an eye patch on the right eye, an accident perhaps…quite interesting. Based on the way he is dressed and the aura he gives off he is most defiantly a noble, a real Lord. To the left of him is a man of pure beauty, a rare find indeed. Is it him from which the smell resides? Or the little blue boy? As I poor the tea and place it in front of the young Lord my knees begin to shake. The power washing over me is unlike any power I have ever felt before, but as I step away form the little one and get candle on the table to light the rest I accidentally bump into the butler. In that one second of physical contact my entire body becomes weak, overwhelmed with his power. My knees buckle as I drop to the floor and the candle falls from my hand lighting the carpet below. The butler was quick to stamp out the flames and offers a hand to help me to my feet. Completely astonished and my mouth agape I hesitantly take his hand. My knees are still weak as he assists me to stand and I am quick to stumble again. Catching me as I trip he says to his young Lord,

"Perhaps the young Lady is exhausted from being up so late. I shall attend to her in the kitchen and be back shortly."

"Yes, fine." The longer this butler holds onto me the more my body becomes weak. It's him that this power is coming from. We finally reach the kitchen as he sits me on a stool.

"I understand my power is quite grand, but I have never seen it affect a witch so drastically." says the butler with a smug smirk and pointed eyes.

"When you have been deprived of this kind of power for so long you would have reacted the same way." I begin to gain my strength back as I slowly take in the magnitude of his power. "So what name did your master give you demon?"

"Excuse me my Lady but is it not rude to ask a name without giving one yourself."

A smirk I have greatly missed appears upon my face as I let out a small chuckle.

"Quite right I suppose. I am Cassandra Howe."

"My name, dear Lady, is Sebastian Michaelis."