Dark Fetish

(Chapter 1)

The man watched his daughter as she closed her eyes and snuggled down under her covers, Smiling to himself, he was just about to leave the room when she sat up, and rubbed her eyes.

"Tell me a story Daddy? Please?" she begged, and The man sighed, It was late and he wanted to go to bed, but one glance at his daughter and he knew that he wasn't able to resist her.

"Ok, but you have to promise to go to sleep straight after it's finished" he stated seriously, and she nodded, meeting his blue eyes, with her darker ones.

The man thought a moment, trying to decide what story to tell her, and a thought occurred to him. He wondered momentarily, if it was a good idea, If she was old enough, what his wife would say..

She has a right to know, he though to himself, determined. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and turned to face his daughter.

"Once upon a time.." he began, and stopped as his daughter glared indignantly at him. "I'm too old for fairy tales Daddy" she stated, pouting. And he nodded, clasping his hands together in his lap in a nervous gesture.

"Shh, this is no fairytale" he whispered, before continuing.

"Once upon a time, In an era so far away from that period, that this story could not possibly have an idyllic happy ending, there was a prince. This prince was not one of fairytales, he was not dashing, gallant, and did not go around rescuing damsels in distress, In fact quite the opposite" The man stopped, and nervously wrung his hands, he didn't want to continue the story, as though even speaking it would ensure it's grim legacy.

The man looked around quickly, before continuing.

"This prince was evil, he took pleasure in causing others pain, and heartbreak, He relished others torment, and used women then discarded them as though they were playthings that no longer interested a very twisted child, But this prince made a mistake, a mistake he would live to regret, you see one of the women he used, was the daughter of an old wise woman, who was said to be a witch of the highest order, all who knew her feared her ire.

When the woman found out what the prince had done to her daughter, she flew into a rage, and worked solidly through three days and three nights, creating a spell that would hold the prince in it's grasp, and prevent him from causing any more harm. When the woman had finished the spell, she crafted a wooden game, she carved intricate pieces, and decorated the board accordingly, then she transferred the spell to the board."

The man broke off once more, and the little girl stared at him expectantly, sighing, the man continued his tale.

"The woman confronted the prince and was able to trap him inside the game, and she hoped that he would be stuck there forever, and his conscience would catch up with him, what she didn't bet on however, was the fact that the prince was patient, he could stand waiting, for some poor stupid person to release him, but what she also didn't count on, was how angry the prince became while he was trapped within the confines of the game.

As the princes anger grew, the power the game had over him weakened, and although he could not escape, he could bend the game to his will. With this ultimate power, the prince waited for his chance, his desire for revenge burning strongly in his heart.

That was all that was ever heard of the prince, and the game, and the wise woman, well, she was never seen again, although the people of the town knew that he had done something to her, and whatever he had done, she was never coming back"

The man broke off, and noticing that his daughter was asleep, turned off the light, and closed the door behind him. He hoped that he hadn't given her nightmares, because for her, that wasn't even the worst part of the story.

The man thought back over the last part of the story he had been told, and shuddered, grateful that his daughter had fallen asleep before he had had the chance to relate it.

Because, although the woman was never heard from again, A blind oracle on the other side of the world, had began convulsing that very night, screaming in a language he could not possibly know, saying that the woman's family would never be free of him, and that he would hunt them down, one by one.

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well, hows that for an intro? Brrr. I'm shaking at the mere thought.. and I'm the author! The authors don't get killed..DO THEY?