8Second in the Milkmaid Chronicles
The Dragon's River
Francheska Anazette
Chapter 1
Dead
It was all planned out. All of it was ready to go. Like a prettily wrapped present all I had to do was open it. He was falling for all of it. Stupid rich bastard. I hike my dress up a little higher than necessary, or I bend over a bit lower than I need to and he looses all thoughts of reason. Stupid bastard. He doesn't even know my name. Doesn't know if I'm part of the paid help or the slaves, but it doesn't matter to him. Doesn't matter to me either since what I'm getting paid in is worth more than gold.
I place every morsel of temptation in front of him and he gobbles it up like a starving man. So it's no surprise when I get called to his bedchamber. I make sure to prep myself for my arrival, after all these rich types don't like to wait. I just needed to be there and then I would get paid.
Walking up marble staircases on the brink of a kill is somewhat poetic in my mind. I can't tell if that's because of the way I must look, all adorned in a black servant costume and on the brink of death, or if it is something more. If Lord Synan had looked beyond his lust he would see that I am Death. I am the end. But instead he would rather take in my pale skin and young form. So tedious.
I rap on his door twice, and after hearing his order I walk in. He looks the same as all the other rich men. He's old, probably more than sixty, and bald since that is what fashion is demanding now. He tries to play off the shiny head, but it just makes his ears and forehead look too big for his body. The golden band around his head has the circular symbol for the members of the highest class. He tries to come across as casual, but I see what steps he's taken to be ready. The bed covers are pulled down, he is in his trousers and undershirt-no boots or socks. There is a bottle of wine on his desk, and it's already half drunk. I can see the stains on his lips.
He starts talking, and this is the worst part I think. I have to pretend I give two shits about what he's saying, but in reality I want my payment. It's been so long I need it. He tries flattery and I hide my face like those shy schoolgirls I see throughout my days. These rich cows seem to enjoy that kind of innocence. He takes my hand, and I have to hide the excitement in my eyes. Finally. I let him lead me to the bed, which we will sit at the end of until he believes the time is right. God just get me naked already. I think to myself, impatient for what waits for me at the end of this.
He tries to be causal, which is more than what most do. He tries to come across as gentle, but I see right through that. The callouses on his hands are rough, and his voice is too harsh. I had seen the scars on his servants. Several of them showed me just how vicious he could be, and so I agreed to try him out. I felt his hand on my thigh, and tried to remain patient, but Gods I was going to die at this pace. Or he was. Old coot.
He trailed kisses down my neck, and I pretend to be enamored. See men like this, ones who are so corrupt they can't even see, are entranced by a monotone moan or a sigh of annoyance. They think that if you're contrary you are a conquest and they are the conqueror, and if you are stoic you are consenting. Which in my case was true just because I wanted to kill the bastard, but in others cases-the others whose cases I take-they can't deal with it.
He kisses my immobile lips, and I feel his hands pushing up my dress. I roll my eyes, not like he'll see, but they made it sound like he got right to these things, and I'm stuck here waiting. I just need his hands on my torso and then I can be done. I feel the laces on the back of my dress come undone and I let out a sigh. I feel his hands push the fabric down and his hands trail over my skin. I smile. Finally.
His touching goes on for another couple of minutes, and I count down the seconds in my head. When time is up, I stand and grab my clothes. He goes to yell at me, but when I look at his face it's slowly turning green.
"Lord Synan, you have been a naughty boy." I say as I put on my clothes. "Trying to sleep with a maid oh shame." I did the laces on the back of my dress. "Now you may be a bit confused as to what's happening here so let me explain. Right now your body is paralyzed. In one more minute your blood cells will start growing. You're breathing is getting weaker so I'm guessing that your lungs have already started feeling the effects of my poison. You'll have twenty more minutes of complete and utter agony before you finally die." He was gasping words at me, trying to further understand or plead for his life. Either way I didn't care. He was a dead man in a dying man's body.
I took a seat at his bureau and picked up some of his things. He had a bag of coins on the edge of it. I pushed it off the desk, letting the coins fall all over the ground. I grabbed the wine and placed it next to his bed, patting his head before I moved back. I threw a couple other things onto the floor, and looked back. His veins were green like seaweed. His eyes bulged out of his head, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
I shook my head and lay down next to him. "It gets so boring after a while." I said looking at his sweat-covered brow. "I mean you all die the same way, and you all fall for the game." He let out a wheezing breath. "I get away and kill someone else." He clawed at the sheets as his muscles started reacting to the poison. "I've been told it feels like fire during this part." I stated getting up again. "Sometimes I don't give them as much because I want to know more about what they're feeling. I don't really feel anything anymore." I said as I stood to mess up the bed sheets.
He grabbed at my arm, and I shook him off easily. "Now, now. Be a good boy and repent." I picked up a coin from the floor and shoved it into my pocket. I picked up his letter opener and walked back over to him. "Do you know what you've done wrong?" I asked as I grabbed his arm and pulled it towards me. He let out a silent scream, and I pried his fist open. "You beat your servants nearly to death." I pressed the tip of the letter opener to his hand. "You killed several slaves." I pressed the tip harder and saw a spot of blood seep out. "Your wife, your poor wife had to live with you." I removed the blade and pressed the handle into his palm. "Die Synan. You are at the base of the Stairway, the only thing now is for the demons to drag you down."
I let him curl his hand around the handle, and I released his arm. He was crying now. His eyes were red and bloodshot. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pipe and a tiny bag of purple flowers. "This one is for you." I said sitting back down. I opened the bag and pinched the flowers into a small ball. I placed that into the pipe and snapped my fingers for a light. The minute the flowers started burning, the hunger in my veins returned with a vengeance. "It's been so long." I muttered before inhaling the sweet smoke of the Dreya plant. The smoke was released over my mouth like a waterfall over the rocks. I could feel the drugs kicking in. "Too long." I muttered barely moving my lips as I took in another hit.
I looked over to the bed and sighed. "So messy." I muttered to myself as I stood. The letter opener was lodged in the man's chest, and his veins no longer contained the poisonous green color. Blood dripped onto his carpeted floor, and I stood up to leave. I felt the smoke curl out of my nose, and I felt laughter build up in my belly. Smoke in my nose, fire in my lungs, my how the mighty fall.
A.N So that is the first chapter. Very different from Miss Milkmaid back in Book 1, but hopefully just as enjoyable...well as enjoyable as a druggie murderer can be. Please leave comments and let me know what you think. I'll try and post chapter 2 on March 5th or maybe later. (Again this college life fucked up my entire update schedule so don't expect regular updates)