The dark side of Macey Higgins

“Oof!” Macey gasped as her back slammed against the wall, knocking the air out of her. The man that had tossed her against the wall drew his sword, holding it out with the tip toward her while the other two stood behind, one of them grinning widely.

“Now then, lil’ lass,” said the first man, his crude accent giving away his lowborn status. “Jus’ hand over all yer goodies an’ no one gets hurt.” He jutted with the sword against her meaningly. Macey raised her hands, holding them up.


“E-ey, listen,” she said nervously. “‘m just a poor farmhand. I ain’t got no money to me name.” The man in front of her frowned, the cogs in his head whirring.

“Then how’d ya afford that snazzy armour, hm? That dun’ look cheap,” he replied.


“I-it was a gift, it was. H-honest.” Macey looked nervously between the man and the blade. “Please, I ain’t got nothin’ on me.”


“Well, that ain’t really true, is it?” The man lifted the sword until it was leveled with her face, then pressed the sharp edge against her cheek, dragging it along softly. Macey sucked in through her teeth as the stinging sensation pulsated through her cheek, and she soon felt hot blood trickling down her cheek.

“Ya’ got that armour an’ them swords, don’t ya’? Give ‘em here, an’ yer free to walk.” Macey looked at the man in disbelief. Her hand slowly reached for the hilt of her sword.

“Y-yer kiddin’, right? This is all I’ve got lef-” She was interrupted as the man pulled the sword away and swung at her, socking her across the eye with a closed fist. Macey stumbled backward, supporting herself against the wall.


“Are ya stupid or somethin’,” growled the man. He seemed somewhat surprised that she was still standing after he punched her, but didn’t think further on it. “Look around ya. Ain’t no one around that can save ya. Now strip!” Macey cast her eyes around the alleyway. It was true, there was no chance that anyone could hear or see inside the cramped, shady pathway.

“A-alright, I’ll do it. Jus’ please, don’t hurt me,” she stammered. The man in front of her smirked, leaning back a bit and folding his arms.

“Don’ worry lass, ‘t would be a shame ta put any more hurt on a pretty thin’ like you.” Macey nodded, reaching behind her back to undo her chestpiece. The man in front of her grinned sadistically, looked over his shoulder at one of his compatriots, who wore a similar grin. As he turned his head back to look at her, Macey suddenly rushed forward, faster than he could react.

Before he could even swing his sword, a dagger had been shoved to the hilt into the underside of his chin, burying itself in the depths of his skull. In an instant the sound of metal scraping against bone sounded through the air, followed by a blood-choked gargle and then a loud thud as the man’s lifeless body fell onto the ground.

“It’s such a shame that you’d choose to fight me here,” said Jordan, looking up at the two men charging at her with weapons raised. “Away from anyone who could save you.”



“Did ya’ hear,” hollered one of the bar patrons to another over his drink. “They found three blokes dead in an alleyway not too far from here.” His friend looked at him disinterestedly.


“So what. People die all the time around here,” he said, taking a swig from his stout.

“They say they were mutilated tho’. Said the poor sods had been toyed with; cut and tortured before they died from blood loss and exhaustion.” The other person arced a brow, his eyes widening slightly.


“Really? Fuckin’ hell, that’s gruesome. What, was it some kinda psychopath?”

“Tha’s not all,” continued the first man. “Overheard the coroner sayin’ the cuts were extremely precise — like the attacker knew exactly what he was doin’.”

“He? Ya’ mean it was only one man?”

“From the way the wounds looked an’ the way the bodies were arranged, aye. Jus’ one man.”

“Tha’s insane.”

Macey was sat in her own corner, rubbing a hand over her black eye. The barmaid came over, placing a mug of hot water and a small towel next to her.

“You look like you’ve been in quite the fight,” said the woman worriedly as Macey nodded thankfully, grabbing the towel and dipping it in the mug before bringing it to her throbbing black eye.

“Aah. Good eye,” the red-haired woman said jokingly. “If ya’ think this is bad ya’ should see the other guy.” The barmaid smiled, giving a little curtsey before retreating back to the bar.