Disclaimer: I don't own Fable or Fable characters.

This chapter is shorter than the others and doesn't have any sex in it, but there is some death and gore. I think Reaver's character is fun to explore even when I just need something quick to write, although I think I portray Reaver as a bit of a psychopath.

Balverine Food

"Ah, take a whiff of that crisp spring air," Reaver took a deep breath from where he stood with his right foot on a tree stump and his hands resting on his hips. Being on the outskirts of the Millfields, the forest was rather quiet with only the sounds of birds singing echoing in the forest. Well that and the jangle of metal chains shaking. "I can't think of a better place to be right now, can you, Barry?" Reaver reached up to run a hand over his hair.

He had opted for casual attire for his little trip into the forest which meant forgoing his hats and fancy suits. Instead he wore black trousers with boots and a plain, long sleeved crimson shirt with a black vest over it. His vantage point allowed him to see the pink and orange rays streaking the sky through the canopy of tree branches as the sun sank further and further.

"No, mastah," Barry drawled from where he held a length of chain. "Of course not." At the other end of the chain stood a young blonde man with shackles around his wrists. He couldn't be more than twenty five and he looked a little malnourished with his overly thin frame. His gaze darted around the forest as he shook, making his chains jingle and clink together. At the sound of branches cracking somewhere in the tree canopy above him, the prisoner jumped.

"Twilight is so beautiful this time of the year. It's too bad that it doesn't last a little longer," a small frown turned down the corners of Reaver's mouth. "Only a few more minutes and the balverines will be emerging to hunt. They have been so problematic this spring. They've already killed four people this year, including one of my guards," Reaver shook his head. "They can be such pesky creatures when they want to be." He turned to eye up his prisoner. "But maybe we'll get lucky and the fifth person will be the last."

"P-please just let me go," the prisoner begged as he cast Reaver a pained look.

"Why my dear boy, I'm about to do exactly that! You will be free to go; you just have to survive the balverines in the forest, that's all," he held out his arms as if to show off the forest surrounding them.

"I can't outrun balverines! No one can," the prisoner's face contorted into a mask of anger with only his fear showing in his eyes.

Reaver tsked at the man. "Then you should have considered that before you tried to burn down one of my factories. I find it impossible to believe that you thought that you could get away with that consequence free. You seem to have forgotten who you are dealing with."

"There's no chance against balverines, it's not fair!" spooked by the man's yell, two birds went squawking and careening into the air from a nearby tree, making the man jump again.

Reaver sighed. "I could just shoot you if you prefer. That has no chance of survival," at the end of his words a chorus of balverine howls started somewhere off in the forest. Reaver smiled at his prisoner. "Make your decision now," he yanked his pistol from his holster and stepping away from the stump, he took aim at the man.

"D-don't shoot."

"Then the decision has been made," Reaver lowered his gun but didn't holster it. "Barry, you know what to do."

"Yes, mastah," Barry spoke as he brandished a dagger, cutting a gash along the prisoner's side, making him scream.

"The hell was that for!"

"Balverines are hunters. They can smell blood across long distances," a large grin spread across Reaver's face. "They'll flock to you now; they'll flock to you like vultures to a dead carcass. Luckily for Barry and me, I have a gun to protect us, but you don't. If you want a chance," his words got interrupted by another chorus of howls, "I suggest you start running now. They've already caught your scent."

The prisoner paled. Without another word, he turned and ran in the direction of the town. Blood oozed down his side and marked his trail with droplets of blood.

"I'd say the hunt is on," Reaver sighed with pleasure. "I do love a good hunt, even when I'm not the one hunting."

"But what if we get attacked?" Barry jumped at the sound of growling as a Balverine hurtled past them. At the sight of the creature Barry edged closer to Reaver. While Barry didn't fear the creatures when he narrated the arena fights, like anyone else he knew how dangerous it could be in a balverine infested forest at night. Especially when he had nothing but a dagger to defend himself and a master who might decide on a whim to let the Balverines get him just for the sake of his own twisted amusement.

"Don't worry my dear man; a bullet in the head will stop them. Besides, they are already on the hunt after our young arsonist. They won't pay us any mind."

A scream pierced the air. "I'd say they found him and so fast too. Come Barry; let's go see what's become of him." Reaver took off, following the glistening trail of blood with Barry following close behind him. While they headed through the dim forest, Reaver hummed.

When they came upon the two balverines feasting upon their fresh kill, Reaver shot them all, dropping each of them in quick succession with a quick bullet to the head. Upon the ground lay the arsonist, his eyes still open with a look of horror etched upon his face. The balverines had torn him in two and ripped off his arms, leaving his body mangled and bloody. Barry cringed at the scene and glanced away.

Reaver let out a deep breath, letting it come out as a hiss of pleasure as his pants began to feel a little tighter. "Well that was much more satisfying than just shooting him. We also got rid of that balverine pest problem too. Nothing like killing two birds with one stone, eh?" Reaver nudged Barry.

"What are we going to do with him now?" Barry eyed the corpse with a look of distaste. The last thing he wanted was to have to bury the mangled body or carry it somewhere else.

"Just leave him. We have bigger issues to deal with now, like finding the others in the ring he was trying to run. This time it was an attempted fire, next time they could be blowing up my factories. I can't possibly take any chances on that. Come along," Reaver trudged through the forest, heading towards the lights from the mansion of Millfields that glimmered through the trees.

"Maybe King Logan could help," Barry suggested. He stopped in his tracks to scowl at the puddle he stepped in. With Reaver getting ahead of him, Barry hurried to catch back up to him, the water soaking deeper into his shoe with each step, making him mull over the fact that he should have worn boots instead.

"Excellent idea, Barry. So excellent in fact that I've already done that. Our dear King has given me permission to use any means necessary to stop the attacks. After all, with no factories there will be no production and no production means no money!"

"Mastah, may I suggest using some of the rebels as entertainment at a party? Some of the guests have been asking for another arena show."

"Another excellent idea, Barry. I think I will do exactly that. But you know, this little foray reminds me that it's been a while since I've gone on a good hunting trip. I think it's time to schedule one."

"Would you like me to schedule you a trip, mastah?" Barry nearly tripped over a large fallen tree branch as he struggled to keep up with Reaver's fast pace.

"Hmm, not just yet. I think I need to pay our King a visit first. Hunting is so much more fun when humans are the prey and I think our King would be okay with letting me buy up some prisoners if the money goes to his treasury." At the sound of another howl Reaver stopped in his tracks with a frown. "Another one, I thought we got them all," he turned around as the howling drew closer and closer.

"It's coming towards us, isn't it?" Barry stumbled backwards and inched behind Reaver.

"It appears I was wrong in thinking none of them would take an interest in us," Reaver glanced back at Barry. "You didn't clean the knife off. It can smell the blood yet," he tsked at his butler.

"S-sorry."

A white balverine barreled out from a wall of tall bushes, causing Reaver's pulse to quicken ever so slightly. In one swift motion Reaver brandished his gun and fired it, stopping the balverine with a bullet to the head. The Balverine fell and slid across the ground until it came to a stop mere inches from Reaver's feet. Behind him, Barry let out a frightened squeak.

"How exhilarating," Reaver mumbled to himself. Now his pants felt absolutely constricting thanks to that latest excitement of facing down danger. "Hopefully that's the last of those pests so let's hurry along home now. I have important plans to make," Reaver holstered his gun and took off again. He didn't stop until he made it home, not even when Barry tripped over a tree root and fell face first. Reaver had too much on his mind to stop for such annoying distractions. After all, he had his business to think of and a vacation to plan. More importantly, he couldn't wait to lock himself in his play room for the rest of the night.

Please let me know if you have enjoyed any of these chapters!