The Ravening

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How I Came to Belong to Him

NEARLY TWO DAYS BEFORE:

At first I didn't know why the panicked witches had chased me down in the woods. Why they were holding me down now.

The six of them looked furtively over their shoulders. Watching the woods fearfully.

"Quick. Do it. He'll be coming soon."

"He's hungry." Another one said. "I can feel his hunger." She moaned.

"You'll be feeling more than that if we don't mark her."

"Why?" I wailed. Kicking and fighting them. "Let me go! I don't even know you."

"We don't know you either." One hissed. Holding my arm down. "But you're the first female we've come across. We need you."

"We're so tired!" Another one said mournfully.

"Why?" I looked at her in confusion. "We can't sleep. Never sleep. When you're tired, when you relax, he'll find you. Enter you." She whispered. A tear trailing her face as she petted my hair soothingly. "You can't sate him. Can't please him. It's never enough!" She put her forehead to mine apologetically. "I'm sorry! So sorry. I can't do it anymore! None of us can." She sobbed. Petting my black bangs.

I writhed fighting them. But there was one on each arm and one holding each of my ankles.

The other was by the fire. Heating something in it. When she turned she had a hot iron with a strange symbol. The purposeful look she gave me, terrified me.

I struggled violently. Screaming. But she held my inner thigh and put the iron too it.

I lurched against their hold. Shrieking as I smelled my skin burning. Felt the white-hot pain.

"There." They all stepped back. Releasing me as I curled into a ball. "'Tis done." They exchanged a look. Then they all fled in different directions. Black cloaks flying in the wind.

What did they do to me? I sat up and looked at the strange mark on my inner thigh. I touched it and it stung hotly.

The blinding pain made me pass out. I slumped back to the dry fall leaves.

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