Blood.

A wave of pain crashed over her. Doubling over, she gasped for air. A racking cough ripped through her body. Wiping her fingers across her lips, they came away red with the blood she had coughed up. Her sword fell from her fingers as blood loss made her dizzy. Fight against it as much as she might, the wave of blackness enveloped her. Oblivious to her fall, the skirmishers of both armies fought on around her. Unconscious, she had no control over the dark magic that leaked out. Black flames flowed over her skin, searing the wound in her lung like a cauterising iron before flaring into a wild conflaguration. Fire as dark as night roared across the woodland clearing. Trees ignited in a shower of sparks as it passed and the woods came alive with the screams of those soldiers of both sides who were unable to escape its fury. Those screams echoed around the skull of the dark-haired elf who lay unburnt in the heart of the fire, their pain ran through her nerves, their deaths etching themselves on her mind and soul.

Violence.

In the dead of night she slipped soundlessly through the defences of the castle. The defenders on the battlements were completely unaware of her presence. Sensitive elven hearing allowed her to judge precisely when corridors were clear. Soon she came to the door she was looking for. Secure behind their stone walls they hadn't even bothered to lock it. A faint whisper of sound was the only hint to the opening of the door as she slipped into the room. By the time the occupants had realised something was wrong it was too late. The sharp edge of the knife opened a large, bloody gash in their throats. Even the children didn't make her pause. She had been paid for the deaths of the entire family and she always fulfilled her contracts. When the bodies were found the following morning she was long gone.

Madness.

Mira rolled to her feet, lunged forward...and pinned Silverthorn to the concrete floor though the shoulder with one glistening black spike.

"Its a shame..." Mira whispered softly, "...we didn't meet at another point in time, you and I..." Darkness began to pulse in Mira's soul, eclipsing the silver and elven greens even of Bran, "I think we would have had a... unique... relationship."

"I'm all for interesting relationships" the vampire-elf hissed, pushing up so that her body slid up the spike that pinned her to the ground, blood spilling to the ground as her flesh tore. "But you're going to have to do better than that."

Nails tore into the dragon-elf's throat, dragging her down once more. "Much better."

Her teeth sank into Mira's neck.

Rage and death, constants in her life. The threat and promise of violence, a life that had often been brutal and dogged by loss. The child had been plunged into the abyss and, like a blade forged in the fires of hell, the adult that had emerged from the flames had become colder and harder, ruthless and predatorial. Death stalked at her heels and, like a lover, she embraced it, roaming the darkness... becoming the darkness...

Blood filled her mouth in a hot flood, salty and sweet. Exultation roared through her veins. The atavistic lust and greed of a successful hunt. The thrill of the victim's weakening struggles, their heartbeat slowing beneath her fingers. The sensation of fangs piercing flesh. Fear and violence scented the air and the vampire gloried in it.

A low sound spilled from the sleeping woman's lips, her body arching as if beneath a lover's fingertips. The hunger for blood was an aching need that dwelled within the darker parts of her psyche, the vampire woven into the very warp and weft of her soul after her fall into insanity, merging with the huntress she was and had always been until she no longer knew one from the other. It was her need, her hunger, her desire. A darkness that fed on rage and pain, forever demanding more, a physical craving that could be sated but never completely satisfied.

You cannot fight me. I AM you.

The words whispered through her mind.

Her teeth sank into the curve where his shoulder met his throat, deliberately tearing and rending. A low rumbling growl started in the depths of Y’Roden’s chest and crimson kissed emerald greens rolled back into his head, pain translating to sheer ecstasy in the half-elf’s twisted mindset. A low groan had him slumping against Silverthorn, pressing into sharp fangs with rousing delight that threatened to unleash something hellish for them both. A sharp protrusion of bone coloured horn burst through his flesh at the temple, a rivulet of blood seeping down the side of Ro’s face to mingle with the bloody mess the Vampire was making of his neck...

... The blade sliced between ribs until the hilt bruised the flesh, blood pouring from the wound in a sticky crimson flood, hot against her hand. Anger poured through her veins and, beneath it, the lust for death, the desire to kill, to hurt, to torture... A need almost akin to sexual desire that left her pulse pounding, her breath rasping in her lungs... Laughter filled the air, cold and malevolent, and it was her own. Hands reached for her from behind and she turned, lips parted, jade eyes gleaming with a dark heat...

... Hard hands gripped her body with brusing force, blind thrusts driving him hard into her core, blood scenting the air as her nails scored deep into heated skin, a scream spilling from her lips as ecstasy tore through her...

... A screamed name...

With a gasp, Silverthorn sat bolt upright, heart pounding in her chest. The hand that she ran through her sweat-soaked hair was shaking.

"Oh Gods..."

Blindly she pushed the covers aside, sliding from the bed. The frosty air struck her hot skin as she reached the balcony door, a shiver running through her, but it was the nightmarish image that played through her head over and over that forced the choked sound from her lips. Emerald eyes, glazed in death, blood spilling from more wounds than even the scarred form of the half-elf could withstand, his life draining from him even as she laughed, those images, dredged from the murky depths of her torn soul were shocking enough, but the rest...

A name echoed around her head, the feel of hands holding her, touching her...

"Now I know I'm losing it," she muttered.