Stepping off the train as it made its final movements, coming to a full stop within the faint clouds that hovered throughout the city, she could not help but wish that she were venturing elsewhere. It had not been the first option for Astrid to travel to, but it was opportune more than anything else. A one-way trip to Dahlia, an area conveniently located within the more eastern part of Fiore, one far enough away from Magnolia as to create some sense of distance while certainly being isolated and distant enough in terms of sustainability and cooperation from Crocus to not fear being tied to the region.

It was a temporary reprieve, little more than that.

Being out and about, the last thing that Astrid sought was to be noticed, especially not on her own terms. Interest in her was hardly something that wanted to relish within. Certainly not in the recent wake, the investigation over a linkage towards someone similar to her and dead bodies within Crocus. Not as though they was not evidence towards the claims. Much as she would have wished, she had made precious little attempts at keeping her actions hidden. Worse were the fact that she anyone had managed to draw a connection to her.

It was a massive blunder. One that she knew time would eventually cure. But to achieve that, she would have to take solace, for the moment

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And so, here she was. In a city that barely existed or was even known at all within Fiore because of some half-measured endeavors that kept it alive.

Pathetic.

Dahlia was a ruined place. There was little that survived here outside of those that were escaping the law, fearful of the light, or otherwise had accepted the call of the shadow. It was a blight within the country of Fiore, one in which she had heard countless debates towards how it should be handled. Some radical stances were to see it razed and rebuilt, hoping that whatever tainted essence persists within it would be lost forever, instead made way for something of value to be added. Others sought to keep it limited, recognizing that there was no hope towards reforming the land but instead having to go ahead and barricade it off from the rest of the world. It was a heavy-handed response and option to take, but it was one that more than a few within the political sphere of Fiore thought was the right decision.

Debatable perhaps. But stepping through here herself, Astrid could not help but find the place disturbing, under the best of circumstances.(

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It was actually perfect!

The last thing she wanted was to have arrived in a place where she were known, where her father was known. More than that, it was a place that the people seemed to follow the same rule, ‘mind your own business’, something that she could not breath a sigh of relief towards. Since she had boarded the train in Magnolia, thoughts had circled around and around within her head. Desires to kill, to cut someone down when they weren’t looking, and then dine upon their flesh. It was tempting, no doubt. She wanted to, but found herself restraining herself, as hard as it was.

The desire was there to feast upon the flesh again and she could not hide her desire for it, no matter how much she wished to. But the feelings of blood lust, they were new. Unknown in origin mostly. She could not help but fear that it was something that happened, as whether it were on the train or now walking through the empty streets of the city, she could not help but listen as the voices echoed over and over and over again in her head.

Just kill one or two. You would barely have to try.

And then you can eat.

You deserve to eat.

She shook her head, the drumming echoing throughout being enough to cause her to loose balance, bracing up one arm against the wall to keep her standing upright. No matter how much she sought to keep them out of her head, they simply remained.(

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The maddening thoughts in her head left her struggling to maneuver through the streets, not helped either by the constant fog that seemed to permeate throughout, rendering one’s vision even less applicable than what one would end up preferring. One could see in front of them, though the further out she sought to look, the more fog simply consumed everything in sight. Tread carefully. That was the only thought that came to her as she continued down the streets, looking for some reason as to why she were here.

In truth, her predicament had been simply tied towards the nature of the murderous thoughts in her head, consuming everything save for her ability to move forward. Her focus, her mental fortitude, being perpetually taxed by the encouragement to commit brutal, bloody murder.

Strike them down. Make them bleed.

In her lucidity, something clicked. Perhaps the language used. Perhaps sheer luck. Whatever the reasoning behind it, she reached into the small strap attached to her belt, her hand feeling surprisingly at ease as she rested her hand against the impressively-polished bone. Taking grip, she produced the blade, the black sheen of it seeming to glow within the dark Dahlia skyline, her eyes fixated upon it, admiring it in a way that she could not have before. It had cost her a sizeable amount of jewels in order to acquire, but she felt glad having done so even then.

It felt right.

But holding the blade in her hand in this way, to not use it would be much worse of an act than simply not buying it.

It should have been used for killing. She needed to use it for killing.

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But who. And what would be the victims for tonight? Astrid felt awkward throughout this. She was not unfamiliar with corpses, with the idea of death. She certainly had not been unused to the idea of killing, but this was something different entirely. She was looking for someone to strike down, someone to gut so that she may dine. In the past, whom she had killed had been those that were unfortunate enough to catch Astrid as she fell into a ghoulish rage, lacking any sense of location or anything of the like.

That wasn’t this.

She was in full control, knew exactly what she was doing. And yet she was determined to carry it out all the same. It was sickening, the thoughts going through her head, the ways her imagination was spinning, as much trying to figure out how to go about and carry out the perfect kill while trying to figure a way to deny any sort of responsibility. The perpetual juggling game that went on her mind, that with each passing minute the two worked in tandem all the better, to the point where it was no longer one thought competing for her conscious thought, but instead had become a single thought that masqueraded throughout within her mind.(1185)

Time carried on before eventually a sound alerted her. Footsteps. Not hers, as she found that as she stepped through the alleyways she were left without so much as a single step.

No, these belonged to someone else.

Prey.

Moving along, the benefits of her absolute silence being the inability to figure where one were. A cry broke out and her mind raced, curious. Interested. Hungry. A short time forward and suddenly she saw exactly what it were that had broken the silence earlier. A body. That of a woman’s, lying within the center of the alleyway, a small pool of blood having formed just beneath her. From what Astrid could gather, not particularly lethal in amounts, but enough to certainly draw attention of those who would be keen in it, or her.

As it happened, both Astrid and the couple of creatures before her both seemed interested in the prey below.

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Werewolves. Decrepit. Emaciated. No doubt left in a state of near death and surely just a few days worth of starvation away from a catatonic state. In a way, it was almost sad. To know of the mythos of werewolves, to believe them impressive creatures, to see ones such as this, there were no doubts within her mind that she could have taken care of them. Especially at the goading of the dagger in her possession, her eyes as much focused upon them as they were focusing for an opening.

The creatures meanwhile had their eyes shifting between her and the woman, not sure whether to regard her as the greater threat, or her as a potential second meal, though it was clear that their hunger had blinded them to the mistake that that was. One of them moved towards Astrid, thinking that removing her would be the better course of action, but as soon as it reached out an overextended arm in the direction of the woman, the dagger appeared, striking through the throat of the werewolves, causing a gurgling sound to echo through the alleyway as the others looked on the incident stunned. Their companion stood there, life waning away as the blade plunged within its skull being the only thing keeping it upright.

As she pulled the blade back, her foot pushing the werewolves away from her in the process, it fell to the ground, exposing the horrified faces of the other remaining werewolves. Unwilling to potentially part with the meal that remained on the ground, they lunged for Astrid, but their weakened state left them a shell of being able to stop the woman, going through an elegant, if not terrifying, dance of death, cutting them down one by one, the dagger seeming to cut right through them regardless of their undead nature.

A blade designed to kill. One that dances to the song of death.

And Astrid had become the orchestrator to it all.

It was not long before they were all deceased, having fallen to Astrid’s blade. For a brief moment, it was silent, until the groan of the woman, still alive but in a terrible state, flooded the quiet and brought the tides of hunger directly to Astrid. Looking upon the woman, she saw not a person in need, but food. Surrendering to the hunger, she knelt down beside the woman, taking the woman’s face, a lovely one, within her hands, as her pupils dilated and her mouth opened, her teeth closing shut with sheer intensity as they closed down hard upon the woman’s throat, the sound of bone crushing bone as she pulled back, ripping out the woman’s throat, whatever hope she had of surviving dying along with her.

With no werewolves in the area, nobody to stop her, Astrid simply decided to indulge in the feast that had been so long overdue.

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