Beka
She was doing her nightly rounds around the lower city when she stumbled onto some drunk, filthy men standing around something in a dank, moist alleyway in the worst part of town.
As she drew closer she could make out a familiar female form in the darkness of the alley covered in blood and grime, not quite dead.
That was the last thing she saw till the mage attacked her.
He pinned her down and held her by the neck on the ground damp with blood.
Then he called out to the others, "I've got 'er", in a rough uneducated voice and they swarmed around her figure in the moonlight like wasps around their victims.
"She looks like a good 'ne, Jack, for our fun." Another man said in a raspy, hoarse voice.
Then they started their drunken ritual for the Goddess of blood and suffering.
First they slit her wrists letting her bleed.
Then they raped her.
Half of the group left after that, to find a victim in the Lower city, a girl to be violated in the name of a fake goddess.
The men that remained then slowly destroyed her body, limb by limb, not letting her have a quick death.
With her legs they crushed the bones and let the blood seep out slowly into the ground.
Her arms were bruised and the skinned, the muscle exposed to the harsh, cold air of the lower city.
Her cloths, the uniform of a Dog, were torn off and her genitals and breasts were reduced to a mere bloody mass.
Her torso was cut open and blood was pouring out.
Her neck was badly bruised and her once beautiful face was smashed into a bloody pulp. Her skull had been cracked in several places.
Her brain had begun haemorrhaging and she had lost too much blood. She would be returning to the god she served tonight.
She died alone in a dark alleyway in the lower city that was damp was blood.
When the patrols found her body, they didn't immediately recognize who it was, the damage was two great. It wasn't till they saw her cloths and belongings next too her that they released it was the Great Rebeka Cooper, The Terrier, The Bloodhound, The Mastiff. The Lower City Legend.
Her funeral was a week later. Even the king attended to honor the girl who saved his son. Every Pigeon in the city was there to honor their mistress. They bowed to her. People swore that there had been a black cat with purple eyes sitting, grieving on the grave. And that the Black God himself had attended the service to honor his long time worker
A/N I think that's the longest on yet and it is the hardest one so far to write and is the reason why this story is M. I have one more (Kel) till I start writing the sequel of sorts, The Death of Mages, where I will be doing the circle. As always please Read and Review. I am also looking for a beta for my TP stories. If anyone is interested please PM me.
Alicia