Cindra doesn’t run a third time
Cindra squeaked in terror as the strange pale man began to stride towards her, murmuring throatily in a language she did not understand. This must be the man that had attacked Goodwife Rawtharn so viciously and she wasn’t about to stay around to see what he had in store for her.
She turned to run and almost collided with him. She hadn’t even seen him move and now he was standing on her other side, blocking her path so she had nowhere to run to. She was trapped. She tried to scream but it felt like his icy hands were already around her throat, and she found she could not.
He chuckled softly, hissing between his sharp teeth, “Shh shh petit fille. Be not afraid. I give you great gift”.
He had begun to purr to her in English now, advancing on her like a great cat circling a tiny shivering mouse.
She backed away slowly until she came up against the wall with a bump. There was nowhere left to go and she waited shuddering in terror for the moment when he pounced.
He pressed up against her pinning her to the wall with an arm on either side and she could feel his ropey muscles, taught beneath the fabric of his clothes. She tried to squirm away from the chill caress of his hand on her neck but she found she could not move as he whispered in her ear.
Inside she panicked, her terrified heart flailing in her breast, the mouse in the jaws of the slavering beast, limbs skewed, whiskers quivering. But try as she might to lift her tiny arms and push him away she could not muster the will.
He brought his face close to hers, his icy lips brushing against her trembling open mouth and she could taste the metallic tang of blood on his breath.
She waited for the crunch of the jaws to end her life, snapping her fragile bones, severing the arteries through which her blood thundered, but it did not come. He was nuzzling her neck, growling softly words she could not make sense of. His hands stroked down her shivering arms, his slender fingers caressing where the skin poked through the lace of her sleeves, chilling the blood the ran frenzied beneath her skin.
Then he stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides and she felt a brief surge of hope. But his glowing red eyes were still on hers as he gazed at her hungrily.
“Now come to me”, he opened his arms like her father waiting for her to run on stumpy legs into them and she was sickened by the comparison.
He wasn’t finished with her, now he was just playing, sending her tiny body soaring through the air and letting it plummet to earth between his cruel paws. She began to cry, hot tears that streaked down her face mingling with the freezing rain.
She would not come to him, even if it meant the end of her. He smiled at her and the moonlight glinted off his sharp, curving fangs.
“Come to me ma fille… come to me”, he crooned and to her horror she felt her body detaching from the safety of the wall and creeping, trembling in fear into his outstretched arms.
“Bien, ma fille, bien…”, he muttered, his arms wrapping around her shivering body and pulling her close to him.
She found her hands were moving on their own, clasping around his neck, holding fistfuls of his coarse black hair, her tear-stained face pressed against his frigid cheek.
She felt his icy mouth sliding along her soaking neck, his rasping tongue tasting her and she waited for those sharp teeth to pierce the skin, for the exquisite pain and then the ecstasy. He was right, this was a gift, it was all she had ever wanted.
But suddenly he drew back, spitting, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“Tainted as well!” he cursed, “Do every of you splay-legged whores have filthy blood running in the veins”
Cindra stood trembling, upset that he would reject her so. She reached out a shaking hand towards him but after a moment it slowly fell to her side.
“And I am so damn hungry! Years I wait for someone to come, anyone to come to this godforsaken island and now so many come and still I don’t take my fill!”
Then the fog lifted from Cindra’s mind and she remembered what was happening. She opened her mouth and let out a piercing shriek that rang long and loud.
“Merde! Tais-toi! Shut your whining mouth little wretch!” he grabbed a fistful of her hair in his hand and swung her around, tired of the game now, wanting only the fast kill.
She smacked face first into the bulkhead, staggering as he pulled her to her feet. She tried weakly to struggle away but his heavy hand came up and smashed into her delicate face. She blinked, trying to recover as his fist came at her again.
This time she collapsed, sliding down onto the floor at his feet, gazing in terror at the big black boots that would surely pound into the softness of her body. Blood ran down her face from her nose and into her mouth and all she could smell was the sharp metallic scent, the thick fluid choking in the back of her throat as she feebly held up her arms to protect her face.
Then she heard the pounding of boots and she closed her eyes expecting to feel sharp pain rattling through her body. But there was nothing and she thought perhaps she was dying, moving beyond the realm where she could feel pain to a place where she never would again.
“Merde!” she heard her attacker growl again, and then his boot clomped out of her vision.
“You!” she heard Lochan’s voice roar and she began to weep with relief, “You! Stop!”.
She looked up with blurry eyes, to see the pale man jump with catlike grace onto the railing. He turned and snarled at her and then launched himself over the edge.
She waited to for the splash as his body hit the water far below but it never came.
And then Lochan was beside her, his arms wrapped around her shivering body, his strong hands stroking her hair, his voice whispering comforting words in her ear.
“Oh my poor dear”, he murmured, “He’s gone now, you are safe. Did he hurt you? Did that bastard hurt you?”
She could not even answer between the racking sobs that were tearing from her throat. She leant heavily against him, burrowing her face beneath his hair and pressing it against the warmth of his neck.
They stayed there until her weeping finally subsided and she tried to stand on her trembling legs. He was on his feet in an instant helping her to hers and holding her upright with gentle hands.
He reached up and carefully wiped her nose with the edge of his sleeve. She could see the white of it stained red with her blood. It spread through the rain-soaked fibres of the fabric, a dendritic network of tiny veins exactly like those that ran just beneath surface of her shivering skin.
“I didn’t finish the bet Lochan”, she said in a wavering voice, “I only ran around the ship two and a half times”.
He exhaled sharply, the air rushing between his teeth and he pulled her to him, crushing her body against the warmth of his.
“Let’s get you inside where it’s warm and Lisbet can take care of you”, he breathed into her hair as his hands stroked slowly up and down her back.
Hi guys… any help with the potentially bad French would be very much appreciated
. Also if you think that there needs to be a disclaimer, I didn’t think it was so violent or horrifying as some of the others but let me know if it upset anyone enough for one.
No, Verity, it was only upsetting because I was fearing the worst as I rushed through reading it! Happy ending & Lochan saves the day!
Overall there was a lot of really good, evocative sensory imagery, and I also liked the comparison to the mouse-like creature in the predator’s jaws, especially since I just wrote a chapter from a predator’s POV. Makes you think.
Poor little Cindra… even though she is so spunky, there is something so fragile about her, maybe because she’s so short and so chubby-cheeked, just like a toddler. The most upsetting part (other than believing that Cindra was done for) was the picture where she had a bloody nose. It just looks so wrong on her sweet little face!
I adore Lochan more and more every time I see him. Maybe I just have a thing for Dukes, but aside from Radomir
he is by far my favorite Mhalwae man. I still don’t like where this touchy-feeling thing is going with these two, though. Especially if something ever happens to his wife — there aren’t even other women around for him to remarry. Garrick needs to get his shit together in a hurry or there is going to be trouble there. I smell a love triangle in the making!
Oops, regarding the French, you have “ma petit fille” instead of “petite fille” towards the top, and “tais-tois” instead of “tais-toi” which looks like a typing error to me.
“Bonne fille” doesn’t sound quite right… “good girl” as you might say in English to a child does not translate literally. I would probably say something like “Bien, ma fille, bien…”
It’s funny you have him saying “merde”. I always imagine Dantalion saying that when he’s annoyed, even though it makes no sense for him to speak French. That’s what comes from living with a Frenchman… I even naturally do most of my own swearing in French these days.
Oh I am so glad he didn’t hurt her too badly! But it looks like he is from the island and not something that followed them there. I thought he was at first because of his interaction with Mella and her experience at the nunnery. But maybe he was just playing with her head. I hope the women all stay nice and tainted so he doesn’t get his hands on them! Can he eat men as well or does he prefer women?
Thanks for the help with that Lothere
. Oh I can totally picture Dantalion saying “Merde” as well. I really love that word, it has such feeling. I wish I could pronounce it in a proper accent because it is such an awesome swear word. I have to admit I haven’t really gotten in much for the Swedish swearing because to be honest it really sounds a bit silly. Except for Va fan! which I use fairly extensively and means wtf?
It must have been interesting writing from Sweetdew’s perspective, trying to understand her enjoyment of killing a mouse. Ugh and trying to think about crushing spines between her jaws as a good thing. I thought you did it really well. I guess the only time I have really written from the perspective of a predator was for Mella (but don’t go there again Lothere
)but there was no satisfying spine popping there.. ugh.
Cebrien can definitely feed on men as well Tiana, but he does prefer women as he likes to play with his victim before he finally finishes them off. We saw this an awful lot with Mella, like here and here, but she was a bit special. Normally he gets sick of tormenting them quite quickly. Especially now when he hasn’t fed enough. But if he had the chance a man would be fine too.
You are right that he was already on the island when they arrived, but for how long remains to be seen *shifty eyes*.
You have to have him saying a throaty, voiceless sort of “Merde”, too. “Merte!” sharp as a dagger — so sexy. My husband mostly does his French swearing in an exasperated sing-song, though: “et puis MER-DUH!” The rest of it he still does in German (he lived there for 15 years or so), so I’m as fluent in German swearing as I am in French. I do not find it at all silly. German is an excellent language for swearing, and also for talking about bodily functions. There is something inherently epigrammatic about it, too… we still quote all these pithy sayings from our German friends, who did not realize they were being at all pithy, but were only speaking their normal language.
But it’s such a comical language for love-talk — I just can’t take it seriously in German. French, now! My husband never fails to begin his emails to me with “Bonjour mon Amour” (with the capital A!) and I never fail to die every time.
As for Cebrien, he is a sick dude… is there something sexual going on there or what? I am a little surprised he doesn’t go after men, though, if he’s that hungry. And besides, he could torment the men and play off their homophobia too. I would be interested in seeing Alexis’s reaction to having Cebrien tell him how much he likes him in his tight pants, for example, and how he might like him even better if he took them off. Assuming Alexis got away in the end though!
I don’t want anyone getting hurt, of course, but at the moment I could stand to see Alexis getting a good shaking-up.
Hi. I agree with you Lothere that Alexis needs a good shaking up and I would also nominate Radomir for a shake up from the vampire.
Keep Simming!
See ya.
I know what you mean about German. Ich liebe dich just doesn’t have that romantic thing going for it. I really like I love you in Swedish, Jag älskar dig. My heart nearly flip-flopped right out of my chest the first time my boyfriend said it to me… and we had only been together for a week. Having only a short time to be with someone (I was leaving the next day) really makes you realise how you feel. Luckily now we can say it much as we like
.
Cebrien isn’t really choosing not to go after men, he hasn’t had much of a chance of going after anyone since everyone is so on guard after what has been happening. Whenever the men are out and about they are generally searching for him in groups… with swords. This is why he has come as far as lurking around the ships in the hope that he might catch someone alone. Hmmm… Alexis could use a bit of shaking up.
Ooh this gave me delightful shivers. Love the French swearing. In 6 years of French lessons “merde” is the only swear word I learned. Find myself busting it out a lot lately because my 4 year old niece isn’t aware that I “said a bad word!”
Aren’t you naughty! But what a good idea
My mum and my aunt used to always speak in French when they wanted to say something secretly. Only thing is my sister (who payed more attention in French classes than I did) could usually understand so it didn’t work that well. But I think you are safe with a 4 year old 
Yes, the 4 year old knows English swear words very well, but she’s not up on foreign languages yet. Very convenient for my potty mouth.
Sometimes not understanding is better though… like when you’re on the tube in London and some creepy men are talking in French about you and your friends, referring to various body parts and what they’d like to do with them. I was the only one who spoke French and was wishing I didn’t!