disclaimer: don't have any ownership on trueblood, obviously. and the fact that this is a piece of fanfiction on should pretty much tell you that this piece has been nothing more than an imagination of sorts based on the wonderful characters of the show.

a/n: Please note that this story contains graphic violence, sexual content, and explicit language.

It's rare for me to state this upfront, but if you feel squeamish about abuse, I highly recommend you not read this. You will feel uncomfortable. But it will be worth the wait and the read, I promise a HEA ending to this.

...

God Speed, Dear one

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

She ran. Hard. Her bare feet pounding down on the granite loudly, bleeding from the shards of glass she'd landed on. She could feel a large shard biting into her left foot but it didn't seem to deter her from her momentary priority to get away, as far a distance, and as much time she could buy herself out of this incredibly mess she found herself in.

Her lungs felt like they were exploding - breaths coming and going in alarmingly fast gasps, her legs screaming at the exertion, her eyes darting around wildly, her flight instincts not allowing her to drop her guard, her heart beat roaring in her own ears as she quickly spotted a darkened alleyway between two short buildings for some reprieve. She was shivering, both from the cool night air, and the abuse she had been put under the past month. She'd somehow managed to escape the place she was held at, sneaked off by pure luck, a whole chain of events that she managed to take advantage of, and run, she did. Just like what she was doing right now.

The girl quickly took in the dark open corridor's layout, there were two escape ladders leading up to the roof that could allow her to gain access to a few open room windows. Her priority to instinctively seek out self-preservation meant she would have to ignore whatever shock and yelling that would come from the unsuspecting resident of their newest intruder in a few minutes. She made quick work, spotting an open window four floors up along one of the ladder's path. If that room wasn't safe, there was the other room just one floor up.

She ran up to the ladder and started climbing as quietly as she could, her jarring breaths and light thumps from her feet on the ladder the only sounds within the dead of the night. She'd barely gotten to the third floor when she heard voices of the two men she'd spent the better part of the evening running from. She discovered them just three nights ago, tailing her rather aggressively.

"Fuck! Where the fuck did she go?"

"Just fucking kill her on sight. Boss needs her dead."

The girl's eyes widened as she absorbed the information, hugging her body into the ladder, trying her best to flatten her self as closely as she could into the brick wall.

'Shit. Shit, shit, shit, dammit. What the fuck am I gonna do?' her mind raced as she tried to calm her breaths, she managed to clasp her hand to her mouth and bit down into the fleshy pad of her palm, screaming at herself internally. 'Fucking hell. Think. Think! Quick!'

Her eyes still trained closely on the men just a few feet below, praying to any god who would listen to make sure they never look up and find her. She really couldn't afford to be shot at right at this moment. Her prayers must've been answered because the two men decided to split up and moved out of the alley and back into the street, running off in different directions.

She quickly and silently continued climbing, every little disturbance in the surroundings not caused by her was a direct flinch, and a spike in her anxiety to get out of the night, into someone's home for just a few minutes. She finally got up to the lit room, open window, and peered in cautiously. It was surprisingly empty.

As in, the room was void of proper furnishings, the light coming from a naked bulb hanging mid-way in the room, a rather new looking, comfortable mattress in the corner, and a chair next to it. That was it. Nothing else. She noticed that the door was left slightly ajar, and that there was a folded note, and a small pistol placed on the chair. She frowned at the sight. This was just too good to be true.

A loud crash from the other end of the alley caused her to whip her head in that direction, she had to push aside her doubts for now, and quickly climbed into the room, immediately making a beeline for the pistol which she picked up and checked. It was light weight and quite different from a normal handgun, it was almost too light, like a dart gun. She made quick work checking it out, and found that it was fully loaded, safety off, and she pumped the trigger at the wall facing her, impressed that the discharge did not give a loud blast, but instead bullet merely zipped out, a quiet whistle just like a dart gun. She flipped it back to 'on' and put it back on the chair and picked up the note, quickly reading it.

"Ovidia, if you're reading this, you've found a safe hiding place. Stay here, help will be along shortly. Turn the light off so we know to come get you. God speed, dear one, we shall see you soon."

The girl gulped, her anxiety still coursing through her veins thickly. She didn't know how someone knew who or where she was, and how they managed to strategically place this little room along the way, she'd been running blindly, but a small part of her mind had always compelled her to find safety by any dock, or industrial estate in any city she was in. And she was always compelled to look for opened windows by any escape ladders or staircases between any alleyway she found herself in. Probably, subconsciously, she was evoking survival tactics she'd learnt from watching all those spy movies she rented on a whim once.

'Effective brainwashing. Whatever, Viddie, focus. Just do as the note says.'

She took a look at the bare light, following the wiring to see where the switch would be and found none. She walked around the room slowly to find the light switch, her footprints leaving a bloody patchwork on the floor, marking out where she was going. She shut the door as quietly as she could, twisting the knob so it wouldn't snap into the groove. She went back to the chair and looked at the gun, and the lack of a switch.

Thinking quickly, she pumped a bullet at the light source, a little pleased that, at least, she had an accurate aim despite her hands shaking as the adrenaline began wearing thin. The room plunged into darkness, and using what little moonlight that was streaming into the room, she limped over to the bullet that had been embedded in the wall, and dug it out to study it. It was light and cool to touch, encased in two types of metals and had a blue glow in its core. She could hear a faint pitching sound emitting from the core. She flopped down into the mattress and let both bullet and gun clatter on the small floor space next to the mattress.

Her feet starting to hurt only now as she brought it up closer to her face to check out the damage. There were deep lacerations, and there was a large piece embedded into the arch of her left foot where she could feel it digging into the bone right now. She grimaced and let her foot go, her legs stretching out over the mattress. The last thing she would need now is to bleed out over a shard of glass. She could deal with the pain in her foot for now. Scooting herself back, she leant against the wall gingerly, no doubt getting a splotch of blood on it, if the wounds in her back hadn't been split open again from her climb up the ladder.

The girl finally allowed herself to whimper from the brutality and abuse that she had had endured from the past few weeks. She did not allow her tears to come forth yet. Even though the note said she was in a safe location, she couldn't trust herself enough to let her guards down yet, not until she was truly safe. Her whole back and torso burned from her injuries. Whoever had taken the time to torture her had been thorough. She dared not to take stock of her self though.

She tried to wiggle her toes, trying to determine if she ought to go with her earlier decision of letting that dubious piece of glass be in her foot. Her toes did feel a little numb, and not because of the cold. She groaned and pulled her foot up and set to work, gritting her teeth tightly, pushing her tongue up the roof of her mouth so she wouldn't make the fatal mistake of biting it and took a deep breath.

'This is gonna hurt. badly.' she shrugged mentally and gulped.

She dug deep into her the bleeding gash, and trying her best to remain as quiet as she could, but a hushed scream pealed from the back of her throat as she felt around in her foot for that damn piece of glass, quickly pulling it out neatly and gasping for air out of relief and in pain rather than for actually breathing. Tears finally sprung from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks as she fell sideways into the mattress, the glass shard discarded on the floor, her hands shaking from the pain. Blood oozed out thickly and quickly from the wound, pooling on the floor where she had enough sense to keep it off the mattress. Not like it made a difference, the wounds on her front and back had seeped out from her thin t-shirt, already staining the bedding. Her pants rasping out her lips in shuddering gasps, she bit down on her bottom lip to gain some control over her physical pain before she let her eyes flutter shut for a moment of rest.

The girl's eyes snapped open suddenly. She had no idea how long she was out for but from the looks of the shadows casted in from the window, it was still within the same night. She blinked and wondered briefly why she would wake up so abruptly and scrambled to sit up and felt around for the gun when she heard a pair of footfalls stop by the door.

'Shit! Why didn't I think to put the chair up the door!? Ovidia, you fucking imbecile! So much for spy movies!'

The girl trained the pistol at the door, her fingers still slick with her own blood as she flipped the pistol's safety off, her breathing and heart rate both rapid. She could hear her own pain-filled gasps fill the room as the person beyond the door gave it a short, sharp rap before it was pushed open quickly.

Before her stood two pale skinned men. All three surveyed each other, her hands still steady on the trigger and she took a deep steadying breath, forcing her heart to calm. The men's face lit up with surprise before they stepped in, the taller of the two closing the door behind him almost too quietly. She noticed that both men were making a show of looking around the room, their eyes trailing where her bloody footprints had been marked out all around the sides of the room, before their gazes ended up either on the gun in her hands, her bloodied foot or the bloody smear on the wall where she'd been leaning on, and the pool of thick blood where the large slice of glass was soaked in. The taller man nodded to himself, as though he was rather impressed.

"Ovidia - that's you, yes?"

The shorter man asked, his voice clipped but not unkindly. She remained passive and did not respond as she studied the two men. The shorter of the two had tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeves and from the neckline, his hair cropped short along his scalp, and he looked no older than a boy her age, barely twenty or younger. The taller man, 'Definitely a man', she thought quickly, her eyes darting between him and the other guy. The taller man was a hulking male specimen, tall, blonde, very broad shoulders and a really defined torso, with really long legs. And probably looked ten years older than her and the other guy.

'I probably can't even keep up without having to run, at his walking speed..', she frowned at the two and pursed her lips as they approached her very slowly, as though waiting for her to lash out violently the way a cornered cat would. She probably would.

She watched as the shorter guy put his hands up, the universal gesture for 'I mean you no harm'. There wasn't much she could do in her predicament. She was literally cornered, her foot was still bleeding profusely, she was sitting in the corner of the room where the mattress was placed, the only form of protection was the pistol in her hands. But there was only one of her, and two of them. And she was in quite a bit of discomfort from her physical pains.

'So much for safety. I won't survive even if I manage to pop a bullet into either one of them.'

She let out a resigned sigh and flipped the gun safety back on before dropping her hands to her sides, nodding quickly, letting her shoulders sag, more in defeat than in relief. The taller man must've read her mood correctly, because he crouched down before her, his face etched in concern and caution as he picked up the gun and set it aside quickly.

"I'm Eric, and this is Godric." his voice was calm, soothing, low and melodious.

She let herself look up at the two men and chewed on her bottom lip nervously, her anxiety still running through her veins, her guard still up, but she remained silent.

"We were sent here to assist you. We were waiting close by this whole time."

Ovidia frowned. This whole time? Who would be helping her? Her breath hitched when she heard gunshots popping from the road side, and the familiar voices of the two men who had been chasing her the past few nights, screaming and shouting in pain. Her neck craned towards the window so she could hear better. She let out a shaky breath when she finally heard the last man's screams gurgling off after a loud crack sounded out into the night.

Finally, one of the men in the room cleared his throat lightly, bringing her attention back to them.

"Who sent you? Why have you been waiting? What if I didn't run this way?" her words tumbled out of her quickly, her voice hoarse and foreign even to her own ears. She had not said a single word the past month, although her torturers had been sure to coax too many screams from her.

"A concerned friend of yours." the tall one called Eric replied softly, ignoring her other questions and had stretched his hand out towards her, "Are you able to stand?"

She gulped and let her gaze fall on her bleeding foot and shrugged, "Doubt so. I can try."

She saw both men's eyes darken as they took in the sight of her injured feet, Eric's nostrils flaring before she heard two clicks from them, her eyes darting back up to their faces. She managed to stifle her shock as she took in the new additions in their mouths - 'Fangs! They have fangs!?' her eyes widening in surprise as her head jerked forwards, reacting to her curiosity.

"You guys for real?" she laughed nervously, "Are those really fangs? Is it halloween already?"

The tattooed one, Godric had an amused look in his eyes as he raised a hand to Eric's shoulder calmly, and their fangs immediately disappeared with another click, as if it were never there. She pushed herself to sit up more, her feet gliding through the viscous fluids that was her blood, smearing it further into the floor, her palm pushing into the bloody mattress as she attempted to stand up, her other hand grabbing hold onto Eric's proffered hand. She was instantly in his arms, and at least four feet from the floor. Her surprised gasp eliciting a chuckle from Godric as he picked up the gun and they left the room all far too quickly than should be possible.

- . - . -

Godric stiffened as the girl's blood permeated into the air thickly just beyond the door. He turned to look up at his child, Eric, who had a look of concern as they paused for a moment to listen to the human's laboured but restful breathing. They could taste the fear, pain and anxiety from her small form. They could hear the girl suddenly start, fumbling around for something, and her breath racing with her heart beat. Godric nodded and Eric knocked, pushing the door open for him to enter. They were greeted by the sight of a frightened girl with a gun in her hands.

They had taken to scouring the whole city for several weeks looking for the girl. She had not been easy to find, even less so trying to set up safe spots for her to look for. They littered the entire city with units similar to the one she was currently in; they were actually Eric's and his safe houses, some were light tight, some, like the one she was in, hadn't been vampire-proofed yet. They weren't even sure if she had enough sense about her to look for a hiding spot, but Eric had set all the rooms up around the city, and when movement was detected from the motion censors he'd installed, they would check it out. The fact that the girl had indeed managed to turn the light source out meant she was indeed smart enough to look for shelter.

Adam, a young human that worked for him had come begging for his help one night. A close young friend of his had unfortunately gotten into some trouble with a large pack of weres recently, and had been missing for over a month now. Eric had been visiting him in Dallas when the young man had sought his help, and through Eric's further questioning, they realised the wolves in question had been involved in the recent club massacre and the girl had been witness to the brutal scene. They would help Adam's friend, only because she would be leading them directly to being to solve their thousand year mystery, and her very life was also in mortal danger.

The two ancient vampires studied the entire room as they entered, the lack of light did not do much to hide what they could see with their heightened senses. The floor was bloodied all around the sides, Godric noted with slight interest that the girl had cased the entire room, her footprints a bloody trail until it went back to where the girl was currently sitting on the mattress. Her feet had a small pool of blood, a deep open gash still leaking and dripping blood. His throat was suddenly feeling rather parched, and he quickly glanced at the wall, a bloody smear. She'd been leaning against the wall before she fell into the mattress. His eyes widened so marginally as he took in the bloody mess on the mattress. His keen eyesight picking up whatever visible wounds he could see from the girl's slight body. She had been tortured. The beast in him roared thunderously, and he felt a similar rage coming from his child.

He quickly asked if the girl was indeed the one they had been waiting for, only to be met by a long cautious stare, her eyes darting back and forth from him to his progeny, the odd little gun pointing at them. She had obvious reasons to be wary, and he had to remind himself not to spook the girl. Eric seemed to pick up on his intent and stayed behind him as they moved towards her very slowly, his own hands raised up, showing the girl his intent was not to harm her. He was a little relieved when she dropped the gun and nodded in affirmative.

Godric let his progeny speak to the girl as he studied her more intensely, he was more than surprised that she'd managed to calm her heart rate down just as they'd entered. Perhaps she had a more level head than most girls her age. He narrowed his gaze back at her, her whole body was battered and bruised, cut up and in tatters, the fact that she was still alive even after having gone missing for more than a month... she was only a human girl. He shuddered inwardly, remembering his human days when he'd been a slave, meat picked for the torture sport of savage men. More than two thousand years later, and the brutality still exists. He sighed internally, and his attention was brought back to the pool of blood on the floor as Eric asked if the girl was able to stand. From the looks of it, she'd pulled out a large glass shard from the bleeding foot. It had to hurt. Godric felt Eric's blood lust peak within their bond, and despite the fact that he usually had a lot of control over his thirst, the heavily scent of fresh blood had influenced his waning control and both their fangs extended.

He quickly calmed his blood lust down and reminded Eric with a hand on his progeny's shoulder to get his control back. The girl had enough humour left in her to ask about their fangs, and he watched in interest as she tried to stand on her injured feet. He chuckled when Eric swept her off her feet instead, ready to leave.

He picked up the gun that Eric had set aside, noticing the half silvered bullet on the chair with the blue core. They had not left the gun here. He frowned and looked over at the girl.

"Ovidia, did you bring this gun with you?"

"No, I found it here."

Someone else was in here to leave this gun for her. They had been compromised. He looked over to his progeny with a sharp look.

"Eric. Beware."

Eric nodded quickly and gestured towards the window. No, whoever placed the gun here would be observing this window, and the roof. Godric thought quickly, yes, they will leave from separately, through opposite sides of the building, and find quick cover in the shadows before meeting at a rendezvous point they'd planned earlier. Switching to old norse, he shared his plan with his child quickly and in so low a voice only the two of them could hear.

"God speed, father."

"Stay hidden, child."

Godric looked at the girl in his progeny's arms. She was still very much alert and awake.

"We will meet again, little human. Stay awake, yes?"

- . - . -

Ovidia had no idea what the two men were talking about. Couldn't hear what they were saying too either. She could feel the growing spark of anticipation from the tall guy though. She noticed that his body was really cold as well, like some of the people she came across when she was held captive.

Now that she thought about it, they too had fangs. They hissed a lot, and lisped a lot too. She found it extremely hard to take someone seriously when they had lisps, and laughed in their faces far too often that was healthy for her self-preservation. Most of the injuries she bore were a direct result of her laughter to their bad lisps. They had thought her mad after a while because she would laugh and laugh, but still refused to speak a word. She knew the moment she said a single word, they would begin even more horrendous tortures on her, not that the other torturers had been light about their techniques. The other torturers would abuse her body whatever ways they wanted to in the day, and the cool bodied people with fangs would take over after a while. The room she was in had no windows. She had no idea how long she was held captive, and she wasn't even sure if the meals she was given were even on a daily basis. She had almost lost her mind while in there, if not for the fact that she was always an introverted person, and that she would spend many hours chatting with herself on a usual basis, she could've very well went insane. But. Nope, enough movies had been watched to at least let her come to the conclusion that speaking a single word would render her a death sentence sooner or later.

The ones with fangs had tried making her look into their eyes many times. She sometimes would blurt out shouts and incomprehensible sounds when they asked her questions during the torture sessions. She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to want to tell them anything, but the pain had been so ingrained in her bones that her overly chatty brain was lucid enough to shut up and not say anything even though she really wanted to. She remembered a fanged one coming up to her the night before her escape, and said some things to her with the same mind-numbing feeling washing over her, compelling her to do what she did tonight - look for open windows by escape ladders. To always look for a dock, or an industrial estate, always look for lit up open windows.

She frowned internally as her brain finally linked the mental chains up. 'I was brainwashed.' Someone had brainwashed her. She tried to recall who it was but no faces came to mind. Did this person also brainwash her not to remember him? The thought continued repeating itself as she felt the cool body carrying her move towards the door and into the corridor, zipping towards the other escape exit at the end. She paid him no mind, getting lost in her own thoughts about what occurred in the past four weeks and found that she couldn't trust her own thoughts right now.

What if she'd been brainwashed to remember only certain things? What if her mind had been altered? What if she's not actually the person called Ovidia? Who was she then?

She moaned as a stab of pain lanced through her mind. Shutting her eyes, she let her head rest on the man's shoulder. She mutely heard him asking if she was alright, and that they would be safe soon. She didn't know what to trust anymore. Her brain then tried muddling through the pain. Four weeks of torture and abuse allowed her to work through pain quite well by now, to think through it. She retraced the timeline to that night a month and a half ago.

She had been witness to a horrific, brutal fight that led to an all-out massacre at a night club that one singular night she decided she would do something alone by herself just to get out of her apartment. She saw things she didn't know was possible in proper societal existence. Her one prominent thought the whole time that one night was how much of a cluster fuck she was in, the things she had seen was stuff movies were made of, the blood and gore, the violence, 'people changing into wolves left, right, center...'. She had some how managed to sneak away from it, and ran back home, thinking she would be fine. Everything would be okay.

It had surprised her greatly that the newsrooms hadn't had any reports about the massacre the days following, and that should've been the first sign of trouble she should have keenly picked up on. Which she did. She just didn't know how much trouble she was in. She knew she remembered telling herself it would be fine, everything would be fine, right? Only it wasn't.

She found herself being followed by the same two men from earlier tonight for the rest of that week and the moment she had managed to lose them, she went to Adam. Adam was one of her closest friends whom she always looked to for protection, he would always find ways to clean up her little silly mistakes. She had a knack for weird things to happen to her whenever she least expect them to, and Adam usually would check in on her at the right times to groan at her beguiling bad luck. He had been there to help her when she'd found herself in the hospital for walking into an open manhole. He'd come by for an unannounced visit when when she managed to somehow set her kitchen on fire just trying to boil water. He was also suitably there for her when her side of town had been in chaos from a rather violent riot, arriving at her apartment in a panicked state only to find her huddled in the corner of her bedroom. He'd quickly packed a small duffle bag of clothes and things and extracted her from that crazy part of town, letting her put up in his home until the riots died off. And he'd also been there when, like a bad cliche movie plot, an air-conditioning unit almost dropped on her head. He'd somehow managed to shove her aside, but not enough that the metal corner had left a deep gash in her shoulder.

So, obviously, she had to seek Adam out. He would know what to do. She'd ran to his place, her face streaked in tears from her anxiety. She could remember that clearly. She recalled telling him about the massacre at the club, about the people following her everywhere. She thought he would've called her crazy and would, at the most, hire a bodyguard to keep her safe. However, she recalled her core turn ice cold when she'd noticed that his face had gone ashen pale, and then he shoved her into his closet with some food and two bottles of water, telling her to hide in there until he came back that evening. And whatever it is, she was not to leave the closet until he got home. She'd panicked when not even two hours later, the two men came smashing through the closet doors as if they'd known she would be there, and kidnapped her right out of Adam's home. They'd knocked her out immediately and the next thing she knew was waking up naked in that room with no windows, chained up like an animal, and very drugged.

And thereafter, everything was as detailed as it was a blur. She'd lost sense of time after a while. She took in a deep breath, and cracked open an eye, trying to block out her memories for a bit, and found that Eric was travelling at a very, very, very, inhumanly fast speed. On his very long legs. She couldn't even react to that beyond turning her head to watch everything zip past them. No, them zipping past everything. She blinked when she heard him chuckle lightly, and his arms wrapping around her a little tighter when he suddenly took off into the night sky. Literally. He was flying, like a damn superhero.

The girl squeaked out in surprise and Eric had to stifle his laugh. He'd worried for a moment when he felt her head bury into his chest, shaking her head as though she was disagreeing with her own self, lost in her own mind. He wondered briefly if she'd lost her marbles, and relaxed only when she merely tightened her grip on his shirt as he ran towards the meeting point. Godric was already waiting there, he could feel his maker calling to him.

"Kid, we're almost there."

He felt her nod and sped through the night sky until he spotted Godric standing on a roof top, waiting for them, the door to the stairs already pulled open, landing lightly and zipping down the stairs and into the safe house. Eric quickly paced through the apartment, and found himself in the room he was looking for - the bathroom. He felt Godric closing in behind them and stepped aside as his maker shut the toilet seat cover down, and he placed the tiny human girl to sit on the cover. Godric passed the human a glass of water which she drank from deeply.

"Um..." the girl stared up at the two men awkwardly when she was done drinking, "what are we doing in the bathroom?"

"No windows. No one will be able to see us in here." Eric replied quickly, rummaging around the bathroom for towels and bathing supplies. Godric already had set up some human medical aid items to tend to the girl's more major wounds. He paused when he felt her heart skip a beat out of fear and turned to look at her, "but also, you look like you could clean up."

Eric stood by the bathroom door, his hulking frame taking up quite the fair bit of space as his maker busied himself with the human medical supply kit. They could always give her a bit of blood once Godric was done playing doctor, he mused lightly. He quickly chastised himself, no, she wasn't in so much of a mortal danger that they had to heal her with their blood. It would only be remedied to her only when she had no other exceptions and the state of her health deteriorated enough so that she had to be saved with vampire blood. Eric excused himself from the bathroom, the smell of her blood was enticing him in that confined space. Godric always had much better control between the two of them, he was over a thousand years older than him.

Eric was went straight to the fridge looking for a bottle of True Blood, warmed it up and downed it all too quickly, thinking about how the evening had turned out. He knew he was hardly a kind vampire, but at the turn of the century, Godric had seen to it that he was taught the niceties of being polite, gentle and even, to his own distaste, on how to be caring to someone not of their own blood. It had frustrated him greatly that his maker would want to exude such human tendencies, such weaknesses. Being nice never got you anywhere. But, he supposed there would be times where he must exude his maker's desires for him to be more human. He supposed tonight was such a night. He quickly shrugged off his discomfort at his actual ability to be gentle with this tiny human girl. He'd felt Godric's rage when they'd found her injured, her wounds all still bleeding, her skin black and blue, it could only be torture. Instantly, he felt protective of this little human.

'Whatever it is..' Eric thought as he crushed the empty glass bottle in his hands as he held it over the bin, 'Someone is going to pay for this.'

- . - . -

a/n: I know, I know, it doesn't seem like it's so bad right now, but I promise you it can only get worse! It's not going to be an easy story to read, but I can assure you that the likely chances of this story getting a Happily Ever After is higher than character deaths. Although, that might be fun too.

Anyway, hope you managed to enjoy this first chapter. It will be worth the read, promise!

If you liked this, do follow, or favourite, or both. If you want to, do let me know if you liked it, or if you didn't, you can also let me know as well. :P but honestly, I'd like to try writing something more brutal for once.