A strong gust of cold wind whirled past Meheret's back, thrashing his red hair. He stood atop the spine of the snowy mountains, watching the creature take the shape of a familiar-looking dragon.
He recognised her, and as his eyes widened, it became too much for him to bear. He bent down, grasped the rock beneath his feet, and ripped part of it free into his hand.
Straightening his back, he hurled it towards the dragon. The stone whistled through the air, missing its head by inches. She dodged it far too easily, wearing that smug smile across her face. It laughed right at him while wearing her face.
Meheret's eyes spoke of the disgust and evil he had witnessed. His eyebrows shot upwards, wrinkling his forehead, while his mouth pulled apart to its fullest extent as he said, "You truly are vile."
With a slow exhale, he clasped his hands together. As he pulled them apart, a thin flaming sword emerged from his palms. It crackled like burning timber, embers racing along its length, and its fierce glow illuminated the immediate surroundings.
He grabbed the hilt and swung downward in a diagonal arc, every muscle in his body tightening as he said, "I will end you, creature."
he let go of the sword and it hovered in the air. Meheret pressed a finger against its hilt and gave it a sharp push. It spun vertically in place.
He drew a deep breath, then slammed his palm into the base of the hilt.
The blade shot forward like a comet, tearing straight through the dragon's wing and shredding it apart. Black blood dripped out of its wings as her eyes bearly perceived it, Her head shot right towards the wound and her face remained still.
With an exhale she looked towards Meheret and her face resembled something very close of a pure agony of betrayal, she muttered "Papa? Why?"
Meheret's eyes snapped wide open, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. His mouth fell agape as he leapt toward her. He hovered in midair in front of her. His expression had shifted, collapsing inwardly into something hollow, something empty, like a vast void.
"I-I'm so s-sorry, daughter," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I don't know what happened. Something, something came over me… it wasn't me. Please forgive me!"
From afar, a figure sprinted along the mountain's spine. And It was Mytri, his black hair, streaked with white, whipped in the wind as he ran."You idiot!" he shouted. "Snap out of it!"
The dragon spewed its flammable fluids over Meheret, setting him on fire. With a swing of her arm, she sent him flying down the mountain at great speed.
***
The dragon smiled unnaturally, exposing its set of forty-four teeth, the lower lids of its eyes pushed far up as it looked toward Meheret's burning body.
A sudden memory struck the dragon, a world drained of color, filled only with black and white, set on a hill surrounded by dead elvish soldiers and sizzling fire that rose high into the sky.
Its black and white glow illuminated the cloaked figure. Beneath its hood, a creepy smile lingered just a moment too long.
He was stabbing into a naked girl's ripped-apart ribcage; the ribs were either snapped in half or pulled far back. She was the only one whose color remained, fiery red hair and red eyes that stared distantly into the sky.
Her eyes, their pupils slit like a cat's, flickered in pain each time he drove the blade deep into her chest.
"Hehehehe… don't worry, my Levrevi… your pleasure will last a long time… hahahahahaha!" he muttered to himself.
Suddenly, Levrevi's body jerked violently. Her eyes widened fully, her mouth grew agape, and for a second they remained like that. Then, as sudden as it happened, it stopped, her mouth slowly closed itself, and her eyes went dead.
"Finally! Levrevi… you are now complete," the cloaked figure said as he pulled out a ragged ball of light blue crystal and covered it in blood.
"Now you are full!" he shouted while staring deep into the crystal.
He looked straight at her naked body and smiled. "Now I have it… I wonder how he'll react… Papa's coming home, dear."
***
With a slow whistle, the cloaked figure, everything but the girl in black and white, was dripping, covered in her blood. Deep red blood stained him like a mark.
He wielded a hatchet that he now swung down on Levrevi's legs. One by one, he gnawed at the joint until he cut through the first leg, and so he did with the second.
He placed them gently to the side and kissed the feet, saying, "You will be a very useful material for Master… You were precious."
***
Slowly, he dragged her and placed her on a hastily assembled cross. He spread her arms over the horizontal beam, and smiled wistfully at his work.
With a slow whistle, he placed a nail to her palm and struck it down. Deep red blood splashed onto his smile.
The first strike was very successful, but the second was hardly any good. The hammer slipped and destroyed her fingers, a few were broken, mangled, and some simply tore away.
He didn't mind that much; he was already finished. But he needed to create a spectacle for 'him'.
So he nailed her arms and throat to the beams and placed the cross right into a dug hole, where he metabolized it and kept her standing.
And with everything done, he simply set the cross ablaze, watching the fire spread from the ground, over her torso, and through her arms. He laughed as he watched his work burn as intended.