The sun turned a deep crimson as it made its way toward the western horizon, casting long shadows over a small village, nestled within a small dell protected by a vast forest. There was only one road in or out of the village that wound through the nearby mountains. The fast approaching twilight signaled the merchants, whose stalls lined the dusty streets of that village that their long day was finally over. By the time they had packed up their wares and tramped home to their families, the sun had slipped beneath the distant horizon. As they ate their dinners, surrounded by their families, their weariness from the long day melted away. They look around at what they had achieved with their ambitions and the sweat of their brows; it all seems worth it now. The firelight shone through the windows on the darkened streets making it difficult to see outside and everything that lurked in those dark corners.

Dark clouds, heavy with unshed rain began to creep across the night sky, intermittendly covering up the brilliant moon and stars. Rats and other vermin scurried about in the darkness, searching for scraps that may have fallen from the food stalls. A few of the town's more unsavory, two-legged miscreants traipse through the streets in search of their own prey. But this night does not pass like the others before it; tonight, something else lurks in the shadows and stalks the streets of the tiny hamlet, something more deadly and unfeeling than any thief or highwayman. Suddenly, the rats stand on their hind legs as they sense this new, unearthly danger and take off running out of the village itself.

Turning a corner, an unscrupulous thief, heedless of the flight of his furry and somewhat more intelligent brethren, catches sight of the figure of a woman strolling, unconcerned through the darkened alleyways. He runs his tongue over his lips as he watches her casual gait and his gaze lingers over her long, lithe silhouette. With all the noise of a snowfall, the thief moves closer to the young woman and studies her form; the black leather that clung to her form like a second skin, her long, disheveled golden hair that shone like the sun when it caught the firelight from the windows. A long sword was strapped to her back and a dagger sheathed at her hip; he gathered a slight girl like her wouldn't be able to wield them. He loomed closer and watched the sway of her hips as she moved, unconcerned, gazing almost wistfully through the lit up windows.

The pregnant clouds once more hide the moon, plunging them into near blackness and as he falls into step behind her, he slips his dagger from its sheath and brings the blade to her throat as he presses her against the side of the vacant building beside them.

"Not so bright, sweetheart," he hisses into her ear as his free hand glides down her body, feeling for hidden valuables. "Walking through these streets at night, all by your little lonesome?"

"No dinars for me?" His hand moves low, beneath the leather skirt and up her thigh. "That's alright. You have plenty of valuable assets I can make use of."

"Ugh," the Warrior Queen grunts with disgust. She had heard him breathing before she had even entered the town and smelled the ale on his breath before that. She had heard his footfalls before he had even spotted her. She had been busy looking into the windows of the families she would never be a part of. The life she could have had but had been robbed of and these maudlin thoughts had left her in a very foul mood.

She rolls her eyes as she feels the rough, calloused hand moving up her thigh. "Should I thank you for being so gracious?"

"Uppity little thing, aren't ya?" He presses the blade closer to her throat and moves his hand up her inner thigh. "You're not in the position to be so rude. I could make this really easy on you."

"Yes, I'm sure it could be just heavenly, your foul violation of my body before you kill me and leave me in the alley like a bit of garbage."

"No," he slams her down, face first, over a nearby barrel, pressing her face against the barrel top and wedging his knee in between her legs. "I only meant how comfortable I could make you while I took what I wanted."

"Guess I missed my big chance," she said dryly as his hand pushed up her skirt. "And what a pity, you missed yours too."

"What chance did I miss?" He sneered as he fumbled with his belt.

"The chance to die quickly and painlessly."

"And just how do you think-" he paused suddenly as his body was unable to process the pain it was feeling. His senses reeled as it tried to process all the signals at once.

There was an excruciating, searing sensation beneath his skin as if it were molten lava flowing through his veins and not blood. His breath caught in his throat, unable to move or scream as his blood boiled him from the inside out. The signals to his brain overloaded the synapses as his body began to convulse and he released her, falling against the building behind him. The Vengeful Goddess moved with unnatural speed and slammed him into the wall. Running her tongue over her teeth, she smiled at him in the dim light, relishing the agony she saw in his eyes.

"Take it from me, sweetheart," she grins widely at him, her dark eyes sparkling with delight. "There's no great shakes in living a long life. I'm doing you a favor, even though you don't deserve it. And I'm sure this is nothing compared to the combined pain you've inflicted on others."

She takes a coin from his pocket, more than likely stolen from some poor soul, and tucks it into his palm. "That's for the boatman, I like to keep him happy and do say hello to Hades for me. He's such a doll, you know. Now say goodnight, precious," she leans in and kisses him hard on the mouth, her lips scorching his lips and frying the rest of the neurons in his brain. With every synapse in his body well-done, she watches the corpse slump at her feet, then continues her way down through the streets.

The goddess stops at a lighted window, glowing with the warmth from the inside. A mother, a father and two little girls sat before the families hearth; talking excitingly, laughing, playing, teasing, an occasional hug being passed around. It was her family, or at least, it could have been.They had been like that before they had been reduced to ashes. Disgusted with the display, she turned toward the next house.

The couple inside looked to be newlyweds, judging from they sent shy, silly eyes at one another. Idiotic glances were traded forever before they collapsed into each other's arms and rolled around in front of the fireplace, sucking on each other's faces like they were devouring a last meal. Having had more than her fill of the repugnant behavior, she turned toward the next house. A young couple played with a small baby in front of their fire. They sat there making fools of themselves, speaking in high-pitched voices and using baby talk as they made ridiculous faces at the little person on the blanket. Sneering at the sickening display, she turned around to face the house owned by the first family and watched as the parents carried their sleeping daughters to bed.

One by one, the lights in the windows faded and went out, plunging her into darkness once again as another cloud had covered up the moon. Callisto leaned against one of the buildings and looked up at the patches of sky and stars within the clouds. There was nothing. No sadness, no regret, no remorse or grief. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to focus on any emotion she could grasp onto. She found rage. Disgust, bitterness, anger and more than anything there was frustration. Why couldn't she feel what she was supposed to feel? What she wanted to feel. There was no painful lump forming in her throat, no tears stinging her eyes or blurring her vision. And nothing to relieve the ache that the frustration brought.

All at once, the clouds skirted out of the way, drenching the village in brilliant, silvery moonlight; lighting up the dell as though it were morning. Her eyes adjusted immediately and everything was brought into perfect clarity. It was too clear, too bright... too much...

Her fists balled tightly, her nails making deep, red crescents in her palms as she threw back her head, letting out a scream; as if she could empty the rage and the pain it caused into the clear sky.

Hours later a caravan moving high above the valley slowed to a crawl and then to a complete stop as the acrid smell of burning wood and mortar assaulted their noses. Then as morning bled into the night sky, they saw the pillars of smoke rising from a blackened and fire-gutted patch on the landscape.

"Odd," one man observed. "A fire in one spot and it didn't spread throughout the rest of the forest."

"How do you know that was part of the forest?" another man questioned. "Maybe that's the village we were supposed to come to."

"Your direction must be off," the first man said. "If it were the village, it would have caught the surrounding forest ablaze, or vice versa. And a village that size would have more than a few chimneys. No fire could burn hot enough to destroy stone and mortar but not touch the rest of the forest."

"Well, lets keep moving," the second man said. "We're bound to hit that village sooner or later, maybe they can tell us what happened."

Not far from the road, Callisto lay on the floor of a cave, her powers nearly spent from the force of her tantrum, listening to the men and staring at the rocky ceiling. In the distance she could hear thunder and the smell of damp, charred earth and wood penetrated the air as the clouds that had been hanging about since the evening before finally dumped their load on the still smoldering remains of the little village.