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She stumbled out of the house, tripping as she ran backwards. She kicked back with her feet trying to mvoe far from the burning house. Her eyes burned from the thick smoke, tears streamed down her face, either from the smoke of the horrific sight she had witnessed.She made her way to a tree, her back contacting the trunk sharply. Her vision was blurred but she could hear one of the bests touch down and walk toward her. She couldn't see with her eyes open, but if she closed her eyes it was as if she could see a crimson aura. She put her arms out on either side, fingers splayed bracing for an attack. Her left hand, indexfinger, brushed up against something. Cool, solid, metal. Was it a sword? No matter! She lifted the weapon and thrust it upward into the creatures chest. She felt it slide and scrape on his ribs. She opened her young, crying, stinging eyes, to see the creature dissapear, turn to dust and blow away in the wind. The hilt grew hot and she dropped it. Eight years old, she watched from under her bed as these monsters disguised as humans, killed her parents. Bit them, drained them of all life. She ran from the house as they torched it with the oil lamps that had been left burning in the night. It was meant to scare away any beasts or monsters. It wasn't good enough.
What's that?! Another foot step, wings flapping. They have wings now? She grabbed the blade, though it was more than warm. She thrust the sword once more up into the air...
She woke up from that horrible repeat nightmare, sword in hand. She heard the owl flying overhead...a racoon, no doubt rummaging through the leftovers of her dinner. She shifted her position while simoutaniously scratching an itch on her back. The large tree she was leaning against, so much like the tree that sheltered her that night....
"Damn it, " she sighed, "after eleven years, I still have to have that f- ing dream..." She yawned and rewrapped her blade in the shabby scraps of leather she had stitched together. The night air was chill, but she didn't mind, the wind was refreshing. She didn't know the hour, but she would find out. She stood and prepared to leave the wooded area, shooing the racoon from the cold fire pit.