She sat at the small, crude table and laughed, slapping her hands together to make the blood splash into the air. It had an acrid, tinny smell that only newly shed hemoglobin possessed. She rubbed her face in her hands, savoring the feeling of the liquid sliding across her skin. A tall man with skin as dark as a velvet night sky entered the room with a man whose golden eyes pierced into dark ones. They were eyes that said, “control her”. Eyes-that held a fear behind the perceived annoyance. The dark-skinned man turned and slammed the rickety screen door; and as he left Haven heard the long and low cackle of Stelmaria issue from the blood-stained face of his team-mate and soul-mate Gemma Kinsley.
Stelmaria felt Haven’s eyes moved back to her and continued in a low string of giggles. As she came into sight she put out her hands to him. We killed them. We killed them. We killed them all, big and small! she chanted. The men and the women and the children.
Gemma had lain locked inside Stelmaria’s mental chains, unable to control her or stop her from continuing the bloodbath beyond the number they were sent to kill. She was exhausted from the struggle and could only weekly stare out of Stelmaria’s shimmering eyes to the concerned face of Haven. At least it was Haven who came to them; everyone else was probably too scared, she thought.
She listened quietly as Haven worked the magic he seemed to have other Stelmaria-a magic he also held over Gemma. She felt the sensation of Haven leading them through her and Stelmaria’s shared limbs-to the big chipped bathtub in the curtained area just off of where they took turns sleeping. Without a single indiscretionary look, Haven helped pull the bloody and sticky clothing off of her while he ran a bath of warm water.
After the stinking pile of clothing was discard she felt Stelmaria cooperatively using her limbs to help Haven get her into the tub-she relaxed. The warm water rose slowly up to her belly button; chest; and then even to her chin as she felt gentlemanly hands politely helping to scrub the blood and filth off of her. Before she let herself slip into a quiet bout on unconciousness she thought, Haven, what would we do without you…our saviour, our protector, our heart.