Glory's Fire, From The Tongue Of Liars [The Kidnapping]

[Kire]

[presto][/presto]

Third Person, First Person, Says, Thinks

He hadn't planned on taking anyone captive, in truth he never planned at all, but she had been one of those impulse things. He always listened to his impulses. It was a normal day to be sure, a day where he, two crew members, and empty sacks, made the trip across a small amount of water in order to pillage the homes of those both around and not. The boat they rode in was small, but that was what you got when using something a grandfather owned. Some he would leave alive - he wasn't in the mood for a full massacre, besides he liked watching them cringe and cower and skuttle - and others he would kill. The little group of houses couldn't be referred to as even a villiage and that was why they went there. With as few of them as their was they wouldn't be able to take on Peacekeepers.

His crooked sneer stayed on his face as they touched down on the shore. It was the expression he always wore when he was having fun - his type of fun anyway - his crew knew it and feared it. Admittedly, having only two people was not much of a crew. They exited their little boat, and when his eyes fell on a larger vessel, a large hulking figure over the small shape of the houses, he knew he had to have it. Impulses, how he loved impulses. "We take the boat." He gestured at the wooden figure, smugly laying claim to it before turning his attention back to the houses. "I know it is a ship and not simply a boat, but I will pretend neither of you were about to correct me."

An elderly man was the first to spot him. It seemed the television had done well in publicizing him because he got to watch the terror fill the old man's eyes. Bemusing, but not enough entertainment to be satiating.

He was boring as soon as he was scared. I killed him. Boring.

Onto the next, leaving the corpse of the dead man out in the open, the blood still leaking from the gash in the front of his throat. He let the next woman live, ugly though she was. Monstrosities were interesting. It would be fun to think of how wracked with guilt that she had survived when others hadn't.  Guilt, what a useless thing. It made him smile nonetheless.

He strode into the house, kicking the family cat out of his way as he did.

I don't hate cats, they make wonderful sounds when I hurt them. Better than people even.

Walking up the stairs he caught a glimpse of two occupants in one of the rooms and grinned as broadly as a wolf. Children, oh he loved children, children made the best expressions. His grin fell as he entered, taking in what was before him. Yes, it was two children but the boy had disappointed him. Standing in front of his sister like that, how could he ever think that would win favours? "I would have asked you to come with me, but now I see you're no good." The boy was dead before either of the children knew what he was talking about.

The girl was smart, I only pointed by knife at her and she choked down the scream she was about to let out. I wanted her.

"Your brother wasn't smart, but you are. Come along." He turned and began to walk out. The sound of no footsteps behind him caused him to pause, turn his head with measured patience, and turn his dagger in between his fingers. "I do not ask." The girl scurried after him. He smiled, he had known she was smart. She was passed off to one of his crew members, who he told to do with her as they willed. "Except kill her. Kill her and you join the others." He waved a lazy hand towards the dead man in the middle of the path. The girl didn't even flinch, he smiled at her.

That was when he caught sight of red hair. Touched by fire. An omen, a wonder, An impulse.

Mine.

I would have her.

His arm was around her waist and his knife to her neck in moments. His teeth were bared and he spoke in her ear. "Fire in your hair, life in your eyes. I like you." Even as she struggled his grip never loosened, he merely grew a hunter's smile. "A fighter, a brave one. You are special." His hand roamed upward until he felt the hem of her shirt against his fingers.

She intrigued me, I wanted to explore. Knowledge is a wonderful thing, especially when it's about something exciting. What a change. I love new things.

She slapped his hand away, but he gripped her shirt tightly, refusing to let go. A slap was nothing to him, nothing but an annoyance. Something like a fly. "Don't make me dislike you. You really don't want that to happen." He was practically purring in her ear, if he actually had enough emotion to that effect anyway. A smooth voice and smooth talking was nothing more than confidence, and he had more than enough of that. "So, my fire, we shall go."

If she was smart, he wouldn't have to say it twice.