“This is what you peasants call a lake?” Death scoffed. “I have seen puddles from light rain more impressive than this.”

  “Tis not about the size of the lake, tis the pleasure it can offer which makes it so special,” said Snow. “Look at the ducklings, the geese, the frogs with their lilies and lily-pads napping as ladybugs and fireflies zip around like embers, isn’t it beautiful?”

  “No,” Death growled. “Those insects are free, unconquered, a nation without strict rule is ugly.”

  “But they’re pretty, right?”

  “I suppose it is calming of the mind.”

  “There,” Snow exclaimed, pointing at a flickering light tucked between two blossom trees. “Looks like a cottage! We can go in and slit his throat while he sleeps!”

  “Just stay behind me and don’t get involved.”

  “Yes sir,” she whimpered. “Wouldn’t want to find ourselves back in the cell we just fled from.”

  Death crept to the cabin and hid in a bush of berries, spying into the cosily decorated home kept warm by a log fire.

  He saw the scarred man, an old, wide male with grey hair down to his ankles. His arms were tied to the board of his iron bed frame, tightened by a rope so harshly the friction was burning his wrists. He was blindfolded. A red-haired, freckled, petite girl with a flat chest curled up next to him, kissing his neck.

  Snow grabbed Death’s ear and pulled it deeper into the bush. She clutched her chest, panting, flustered by what she had seen and focusing on Death’s eyes to stop her lustful thoughts.

  “You disrupt my scouting?” Death hissed. “The face of that man tied to the bed, a scar over his right eye is what I’m looking for.”

  “But they’re… being intimate, wait until they’re done?”

  “You mean you fear you may become aroused?”

  She nodded subtly.

  “Every corner I turn there is a harlot, acts of shamelessness, and you, shaking like you need my cock or you will die. What happened during my sealing that lead to such degeneracy?”

  “Maybe that’s just what people do when there’s no war… they fuck their pretty worshippers, sometimes in berry bushes.”

  “Do not put your hands on me, Snow. You are all a bunch of lazy chimps who by luck survived to adulthood. Sekoi is a plague, they should be picking up hammers, not harlots.”

  She crossed her arms and pouted. Death peeked back over the bush into the scarred man’s home.

  That woman has the ears of a vixen… I wonder why she seemed so strange to my eyes…

  He asked Snow why the woman had fox ears. She hit his knee and told him not to look at another girl.

  “Just rip off his blindfold,” Death mumbled. “I must see his eyes to know if this is my enemy.”

  “We could have some fun while waiting?” Snow suggested.

  Death ignored her. “Her teeth are also pointy, similar like that of a vixen, is that normal?”

  “Yes, it’s normal—wait, you can see that from here?”

  “My sight is perfect, of course I can.”

  The petite woman hopped off him with a devious smile from ear to ear. She put a hand on his belly, and he screamed so loud it was like somebody was being murdered.

  Hm, he must be enjoying it to scream that loud.

  “I will never get what I need at this rate,” Death scoffed. “I am going to kick their door down and demand an answer.”

  “Death, no!” she whispered. “It’s a private moment!”

  She chased Death to the door. Before he kicked it, she grabbed his arm and gave two hard knocks, the door swinging open before a third could be given.

  The smell of cum and smoke exited the home. The petite woman stood naked, her thighs, face, stomach, and perky breasts covered in dried spit and blood. Brown eyes, thin eyebrows, a soft jaw, blood-red lips, shaved bare from the neck down.

  She was displeased by the interruption, the scarred man still shaking on the bed, his toes curling, begging for help.

  He wants help? Hm, perhaps I have misjudged what was going on in here.

  Her voice was squeaky and high. “What’d’ya want, silly-lookin’ man? Make it fast. I’m busy.”

  “Excuse me?” Death scoffed.

  “You heard me. What’d’ya want?” She leaned against the door. Death could smell her cheesy armpits from where he was stood.

  “I do not look silly,” he said, pinching his nostrils. “Have you tried taking a bath?”

  The girl sniffed under her arm, not bothered by the stench.

  “I like how it is, smells fine to me,” she shrugged. “You’re the one knocking on my door in a weird outfit, what’d’ya want? It’s rude to interrupt someone’s torture y’know.”

  Death was bemused. “Torture? Is that what you’re doing?”

  “Is that the scarred man?” Snow squeaked. “We’re looking for them… someone in a tavern sent us here.”

  “Scarred… man?” she laughed. “Whoever told you that story is a clown.” She shown her back to them, which was also covered in spit, moving her hair, showing a faded scar from shoulder to ass. “Scarred woman, I guess. These peasants are scared to call me what I am. Some of the twats claim I’m ancient, not sure why they make such claims… wanna come in, tell me why you’re looking for me?”

  They entered.

  The fox-lady flicked her wrist, using magic to shut the door. A long piece of black fabric wrapped around every limb of her tiny body. The lower half of her breasts peeked underneath. She sat in a chair crafted from the fur of a bear.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Snow stayed behind Death, holding his wrist. “What’s your true name?” she asked.

  “Vera,” she answered. “Not like anyone calls me it.”

  “Help me,” the man begged. “Please.”

  “Who is this pathetic creature if not the scarred man.” Death tore off the blindfold and saw two blind sockets, then put it back on.

  “Him?” Vera laughed. “I fucking hate him. He’s a stupid, tiny, arrogant twat. He attempted to steal my carrots a year ago. I’ve had him here ever since.”

  “I didn’t steal them,” he pleaded. “I don’t even like carrots!”

  “Shut the fuck up or I’ll age you again!” Vera screamed.

  Death poked the man; he squealed like a wounded pig. “An old man stealing vegetables and this is what you do? What is the method of torture. I see no cuts or bruises.”

  “He wasn’t old when I captured him,” she said. “He was young and stupid.”

  “He’s young?” Snow yelped. “But—”

  “That’s one of my more unusual gifts,” Vera admitted. “I’ll spare you the details of how I discovered it, but when one shares a moment of intimacy with me… they just age rapidly, sometimes the men I brought home would scream and start running whenever they finished… my gift counts cuddling as intimacy.”

  “You’re cuddling him to death?” Snow asked. “Twat shouldn’t have stolen my fuckin’ carrots.”

  “I didn’t steal your carrots!” he repeated. “I was just passing by when it happened, I swear!”

  “So, who are you?” Vera asked. “Tell me the whole truth. I have the smelling sense of a fox and you, silly man, you stink of power.”

  “Death. He’s a conqueror,” Snow explained. “He says a scarred man betrayed him, a succubus too. We’re looking for them. They took his powers from him.”

  “A scarred man, I understand now,” said Vera. “Succubi have been extinct for three thousand years, though.”

  “You believe Snow’s words so easily?” Death said.

  “I’m a guilty until proven innocent type of girl. I have no reason to believe you’re lying until I see proof you did. So, a man who lost his powers, hunting down his enemy, and the girl is…?”

  “Snow,” Death answered. “She awoke me from my prison.”

  “And she’s with you… why?”

  “I… uh… I linked our souls,” Snow whimpered. “I want him to marry me, to love me.”

  I will never love you, Snow, it’s impossible, Death thought. Why are we still in this place? There’s nothing we need here.

  “I’m in,” Vera said. “Where to next?”

  “Excuse me?” Death said.

  “I want to join you on your adventure to conquer, gotta have a couple of friends to keep people in check. I’m small, hard to hit, fast, gifted with magic, skilled… what more could you want?”

  “Why?” Death asked suspiciously.”

  “None of ya fuckin’ business… I’m kiddin’, mister Death. I believe in fate. If fate dropped you at my door it can only mean that the gods want me to follow you. I’ve always wanted to serve the right person. If you’ve lied about your powers, who cares? I’d just kill you both for lyin’ as a payment for spewing bullshit.”

  “I think we should take her,” Snow said. “We could use her to catch a big fish and let you strike the finishing blow.”

  That is a good suggestion… but I was betrayed by someone I trusted, how can I trust someone I have just met?

  “How can we trust you to travel with us?” he asked.

  “Don’t think you can,” she admitted. “I’m loyal and trustworthy. You can’t take my word for it, I get that. All I can do is this to prove I’m dedicated to the strangers in my home.”

  She quickly stood and flicked her wrist. A curved silver dagger popped into her hand, a fox-head pommel decorating the gold wraps on the handle, a sharp molten edge.

  Death protected Snow, unsure of her intentions with the weapon.

  Vera threw it into the stomach of the ‘old’ man, then teasingly brushed up to Death, getting close and making Snow jealous. She summoned a second dagger, the exact same design, but with the gold and silver palette inverted.

  “Take the kill,” Vera said, offering him her knife. “Slit his throat from ear to ear, I shall sleep in his blood for the night… a year of my hard work. Drain his power, even if it’s so minuscule.”

  He snatched the blade and did it. The grin on Death’s face made Snow feel warm.

  Vera removed her clothing with another flick of her hand, then threw herself on the corpse, rubbing his blood over her thighs and face and covering herself with the sheets.

  “Finally red, my favourite,” she whimpered. “All I ask is that you soon prove you are who you are… and then I shall serve you. I have a spare room through that blue door. Sleep until morning. I will take you to Caron, I have a friend there who may be able to help.”

  Snow dragged Death to the room and slammed the door shut. The room was filled with empty bookcases, a deer-head trophy above the cow-hide sheets. Nothing else was in there, a few lit lamps near an open window.

  “I have never felt this tired before,” he yawned. “Not having my powers is exhausting work.”

  She removed her top and gloves, stood brave with her chest puffed out and her arms behind her back. She bravely called his name, but couldn’t hid her quivering lip, worried of judgement.

  “I don’t want to fuck you,” Death said, locking eyes. “I have told you many times.”

  “I just want you to look at me the way you just did to her,” she said. “Anything she did, I can do… do you want me to slit the throat of a man and cover myself in his blood? I’ll do it. Do you want me to walk around bare-skinned? I’ll do it for you.”

  Does she think I was aroused by that fox? What is her issue?

  Death approached her and got close. She was on the verge of tears, worried he was going to abandon her.

  “I know I can command you to stay… but I’m scared I’ll lose you faster than I found you. I command you to look at me, all of me.” She grabbed his hand and put it on her waist. “Look at me how you did her. Tell me I’m enough.

  Death moved her deeper into the room. He undid the string of her rags, making her squeak with how close his hand was to her skin. Her pants fell to her ankles, leaving her fully exposed to him. He took her hands and raised them in the air, ordering her to keep them there.

  She really is devoted to my cause, Death thought. He put a hand on her throat, knowing he could squeeze the life out of her. She has a lot of trust in me. Very strange.

  He inspected her hips with his hands.

  She sniffled like a bunny, blushing red, legs trembling, not moving a muscle. He then looked at her breast, red nipples against pale skin like a rose in a field of freshly fallen snow. He touched her soft lips with his thumb, staring into her eyes, humming in approval.

  “Am I enough?” she squeaked. “Answer me honestly.”

  In that moment, a previous command struck his soul. He was a step closer to getting the succubus… Snow never stated how big the step had to be.”

  He put a hand on her flushed cheek and gave her a quick kiss. She was shocked, eyes full of love, but also confusion.

  I can feign kisses as much as I need to, Death thought. Keeping her alive means I need to keep her by my side.

  “You tremble at the lightest of my touches,” he said. “You fit well in my hands. Your flesh is suitable to bear my heir should you get more powerful. The path you are on is the right one, you are enough for the time being.”

  She gulped, smiling with joy. “I… I love you,” she whimpered. “I’m yours, Death.”

  “I do not love you,” he said back coldly.

  “I know,” she said, not upset by his words. “But I will never leave your side. I hope when you see my dedication, you will change your mind and marry me out of love.”

  Death scoffed at the thought. He knelt, picked her up at her thighs, and threw her onto the bed, joining her and closing his eyes.

  “Sleep,” he ordered. “Tomorrow, we travel.”

  She put a leg over him and cuddled his arm, warming him with her body and pulling the sheet over them. “I love you, Death,” she said again. “I feel so happy and safe when I’m with you.”

  “You are aroused, not happy.”

  “Not this time,” she admitted, nestling her head under his chin. “I am calm. I want your hands on me, not for pleasure, but for the comfort. Cuddle me, Death, like a wife.”

  “Is this a command?”

  “No,” she said. “But I can make you comfy.”

  After some shuffling, he tested her claim. He was indeed comfy, and he fell into a deep slumber on her breasts after only five seconds.