Young Master Damien's Pet (WN)

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The cool wind blew across the snowy land. The full moon shining bright up in the sky as the clouds had stopped hovering around it, letting the moonlight fall down on the land of Bonelake. The night was quiet, the villagers who slept quietly around the town who didn't know what was about to come as shadows moved passed the curtained windows one after another in the time.

One of the hooded figures walked across the houses. Holding a pot that had smoke fuming out of it where burning coals were placed. Walking around the houses, the person turned to look at another hooded figure in the front who signed with the hand to show what to do next.

Three more hooded people emerged from the shadows. Each carrying a long thick log in their hands as they walked under the moonlight.

The person who was holding the pot in the hand turned to look left and right. Front and turning back to see there was no one in sight but just them. Placing the pot on the snowy ground, the person pushed the hood back to reveal a scaly appearance of the face which was black and broken in texture. Her eyes blue in color as she looked at the other black witches who were getting their work done as spoken about. It wasn't the first time they had invaded a human village but this was different from what they usually did.

The other black witches started to mark around the village with their transformation circle and lines that were needed for the ritual to start. Once everything was done, the black witches took their position.

While another witch with brown hair and brown eyes went up to the blue-eyed witch, "Shall we bring the sacrificial human?" she asked.

The young black witch who didn't look too old, smiled, her tongue slithering out of her mouth to say,

"Yes, please. Make sure it is a young one."

"A child?" asked the black witch.

"Anything below my own appearance," answered the blue-eyed witch. The other witch nodded her head, walking to the nearest isolated houses from the rest of the other houses. Knocking on the door, and waiting for someone to open it.

In the meantime, the blue-eyed witch who was none other than Ester who had escaped from the council time after time, raising an army of witches to bring down the vampires dipped her hand into the hot burning red coal to pull out a glass from it. A test tube that had a red liquid inside it.

The massacre was taking too long, the ritual she had expected to work was not working with the number of trial and errors they had gone through. It didn't matter how many bodies were left behind in the need to acquire the ritual until the black witches would come to triumph over the other creatures who walked on these lands. They were under her deposition where she could discard them without a thought.

Humans and all the other creatures were pathetic. Sometimes her own kind who carried stupidity with them but it was alright. With her who was leading the group of black witches, there was nothing to worry about. Especially when she was the most experienced. People often mistook her age to her ability but she knew how to put the ones who couldn't listen to a quick death.

Her appearance fluctuated to one of the humans, her skin turning smooth and her the slithering tongue that turned to one that belonged to a human. Looking at the young man open the door, the black witch ran her knife over his throat while holding back his scream that was about to erupt out. Blood spurted on the black witch's face and on the white ground. As the man was dragged towards her, she saw how he struggled in his last moments like a fish that was taken out of the water.

She felt not an ounce of pity. Her expression was blank as she looked at him continue to struggle for some more time before looking up at the black witch,

"Put him down here," her soft voice came out which was sweeter than the rough voice in her true form.

The black witch looked at the man with hollow eyes and no remorse.

"Would you want me to pull his heart?" asked the other black witch to have Ester wave her hand off to have the person walk away and stand on the other side of the markings which was made right now.

Murmuring the curses that were necessary to start the ritual she walked towards the dead man. She took the knife of her own, running it against her palm and dropping her blood on to the man's lips. Letting it seep in. Taking the same hand, she dipped her fingers into his chest like the man was a soft dough, she went further until she reached his heart. Pulling it, wanting to displace it but not taking it out of his chest, she murmured more words to have his eyes snap open that were hollow and dull in nature to have her smiling.

The other witches who stood in the sidelines, watching her and the dead man snap his eyes open they looked in awe. The man who had died had been revived but it wasn't merely bringing him back. He was fed with the black witch's blood and with the incantation which Ester whispered in the wind, he was a half-witch.

But something went amiss when the man suddenly looked livid, and his face turned one to be angry. Taking the tube which she had previously pulled out from the burning coals, she quickly pushed the metal tip into the man's neck to push the knob behind it.

Her expression stayed calm to see him stop moving.

When another witch quickly came to her side, asking, "Are you alright?" she gave a small nod, "The ritual has been done. Put him under observation for a week. If everything goes well, the whole ground is yours to play. Have this injected into every single living soul here," soon they would be able to have an army of half-bred black witches.