Chapter Four
Kasper
The maze loomed before me, a living entity shrouded in legend, coming alive with the magic of Hallows’ Eve.
Tonight, it would welcome a new soul and I would be the one to guide her, to consume her and offer her as payment.
I waited, concealed among the darkness, anticipation coiled around my spine like a serpent poised to strike.
Year after year, decade after decade I’d done what was required without hesitation, but this time, this time was different.
It was the scent of her fear that drew me in, it was intoxicating, like the finest wine, but beneath the fear, I felt it.
Excitement, curiosity…and I tasted it on my tongue, along with her vulnerability that cracked something within me and ignited a fire I long thought extinguished.
The air crackled around me as I sensed her getting closer, the sweet thrill of the hunt started to thrum in my veins.
“Gwendolyn,” I murmured, the name rolled off my tongue like a dark incantation. It was heavy with meaning and I reveled in the power it had. She felt like a beacon, a flickering flame in my world that was masked in meaningless hours, days, years, and I was a moth drawn to her light.
I felt her first step into the maze, her footsteps beat within me like a heartbeat long forgotten.
I felt a surge of primal desire, an obsession grew and festered, clawing at my insides.
I’d spent centuries in the company of souls like hers, fragile, fleeting, so easily extinguished.
So human, and I'd long left mine behind.
Yet, none had ever ignited this kind of hunger.
I was no longer a watcher and executioner, I was a predator, and she was my prey.
The first moment I caught sight of her, I was entranced.
Soft blonde hair framed her face, almost luminescent in the night.
Her brown eyes were wide and searching, confused yet intrigued.
She was, in many ways unremarkable, just another pretty girl lost in the dark.
But she was everything, she was mine. Something in her gaze made my blood run hot.
I craved to touch her, to taste the sweetness of her fear, the sweetness of her.
“Zig-zag, sweet Gwendolyn,” I whispered in reverence of a woman I had yet to meet. “Zig-zag through the maze of our intertwined fate, no matter where you turn, I will find you in the threads of time. Zig-zag my love,” I urged, my voice now a low growl that resonated with the paths.
With every step she took, my infatuation grew, she couldn’t see me yet, but I could see her.
I could feel her, as if despite our earthly differences her soul was bound to mine.
I could feel her pulse quickening, the sweet rhythm of her fear seeped deep into her bones and I felt the way they rattled.
Intoxicating. I longed to ensnare her, to possess her completely.
She hesitated at a fork in the path, I saw her breath fog in the cold air. I could taste her fear, and I relished in it. The maze twisted behind her, moving her deeper within, making her escape impossible.
Zig-zag my love, my soul is aching to find yours in death.