The fearsome warlock leaned against the wall of the wide, stone bridge looking out onto the frozen river below. The falling snow had begun gathering on the ice, erasing the river from his sight. It had been three weeks that the warlock had been waiting for his ice witch to come. If he had to live for an eternity, these three weeks were nothing to him. He reached out to catch one of the gently falling snowflakes. He half-expected the snowflake to melt once it touched his hand, but with no circulating blood in his body to warm his skin, it could not. Though he longed to feel the cold sensation against his skin, he couldn't help but admire the tiny thing. It was very beautiful. He admired how even though there were countless snowflakes, nature had still taken the time to make each one unique.
Suddenly, a shuffle at the end of the bridge tore his attention away from the frail snowflake. One of his demons had found a rabbit and was chasing after it in a circle. He rolled his eyes at the silliness. His demon certainly looked ridiculous at that moment, but he was an excellent companion that had been helping him guard the bridge. There were bodies of at least 3 travelers that had unfortunately taken this route on their journey. While he did not regret ordering his demon to take their lives, he hoped that no one else happened upon them.
Seeing the torn up bodies reminded him of what he had done to lure the witch out of hiding. Over the last few months, he had hunted her followers. He tracked them down, one by one, and slaughtered them in a variety of pleasurable ways. Some he had chosen to incinerate, some he had let his demons have their way with, and the others he had beheaded with the heavy scythe that was currently leaning against the stone wall next to him. It wasn't the killing that pleased him, but rather the pain that their deaths would inflict on his foe that made him shiver with delight. His eyes flickered over to his scythe and his face scrunched as he noticed the dried blood still staining the blade. He peered down again at the river below. If he used his fires to melt some of the river, he could clean it. He grabbed the scythe by the heavy oak handle and ambled across the bridge down to the river.
