The night was cruel that november evening, cold and sharp with it's menacing wind and whispering trees. He was determined as he ran after her in the dark forest, watching her desperately run amongst the tall trees to find something to hide under, to hide from him. But his young legs were strong and fast, racing through the forest until her slim back got closer and closer. He lunged forward, throwing his arms open and grabbing her around the waist. She screamed out and they both fell down onto the damp ground, in a heap. He let out a triumphant laugh, looking down at her terrified face.

That was his mistake. Looking down at her face.

He knew that their beauty was just a part of their wicked ways of escaping the wrath that they ought to experience. But he couldn't help staring at the creature beneath him; her creamy skin, her chocolate eyes and her disheveled and matted curls. She was crying, tears streaming down her face and making clean tracks on her cheeks. He felt himself weaken, felt his arms slacken - but he caught himself before he let go and strengthened his grip so hard that she cried out in pain.

He stood up, grabbing her roughly by the elbow. "Thought you were fast enough to outrun me, eh?" he hissed, shaking her a little as she stumbled to her feet, "Thought you could get away?"

She did not reply, but soft moans of pain escaped her bloody lips. He turned away, not allowing himself to look at her face. He trudged back the way that he had run, constantly reminding himself to not look back at her. He now understood how impossibly hard it had been for the council to catch them - how could any man hurt such delicate flowers?

He shook his head, not allowing the thought to invade his mind and make him weak. She was letting out low whimpering moans in pain, her ankle bruised as she limped to keep up with his fast pace. Her constant moaning and groaning annoyed him until finally, he could not contain himself and he said sharply, "Will you be quiet!"

He heard her moan catch in her throat and he felt himself smile. He knew he was not weak. He was going to take her to the shed and torture her, just like he had been commanded to do so. It was not cruel or unfair, what he was doing. It was simply the treatment ruled out for these creatures.

Among the tall trees of the dark forest, came a small, unnatural clearing where a large, wooden house stood. It was bright, with candle chandeliers lit inside, but instead of taking her to the warm living room, he threw open some doors at the foot of the house. A damp and unpleasant smell hit him and he was glad that he would soon be getting out of this shed and laughing with glee at the thought that this despicable creature would have to live in it for days.

He began to clim down the stairs, while she groaned in agony behind him. When he reached the landing, he threw her roughly to the side, extracting a shriek of torment. He was thankful for the darkness, as he could not see her beautiful face - thus, making it easier for him to torture her. When she began to cry, large sobs ripping from her chest, he smacked her across the face. For he had no patience for the tears of a woman.

"You creatures deserve it!" he spat, while she whimpered in a corner, clutching her ankle with one hand and her face with the other, rocking herself back and forth, "You cause death amongst us! You disobey God and you -"

"Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

He walked to the other end of the room and against the light being let in from the open door, she saw the silhouette of a whip in his hands. She began to cry again, at which he yelled and raised the whip letting it smack down with a large crack. Pain ripped through her again, and her sobs became louder.

"I SAID BE QUIET, WOMAN!" he yelled, "DO YOU VILE CREATURES NOT -"

Before he could complete his sentence, pain slashed through him like a thousand blades and he found himself hollering with agony as he kneeled to the ground. Over his own screams, he heard her whispering enchantments in a language unknown, until he was lying on the ground, blood coming out of his nose, his mouth and his ears. Both of them were gasping for air, pain knitted into their features.

"Please," she whispered again, her voice exhausted and hoarse, "Don't hurt me."

He turned his head to look at her and his eyes met hers. Honey with chocolate. She looked like one more blow would kill her off, and he was tempted to do it but the power of her gorgeous eyes took over his whole body and he found himself stumbling to his feet and running, with all his might, out of the shed.