Kitsy Bloodfang

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• From the Beginning...

  "Daddy?" Kitsy, age five, ran down the shaky stairs of the one bedroom shack. The sleepy eyed girl wore nothing but a stained night gown and clutched a ragged teddy bear to her chest. There in the kitchen she saw three men, her father down on his knees and an arm twisted painfully behind his back, the two other men she didn't know. They looked mean; one was holding a knife to her father's throat with one hand holding his arm while the other stood with his back to them and kept watch out the door. Crouching down she hid behind the wall, peeking one eye around the corner to watch. Her father looked as if he was crying; silent sobs shaking his form. The man sneered, "How long did ya think ya could hide Bloodfang? Thought ya could out smart tha boss, eh?" Her father went sprawling across the floor from a cruel back hand that caught him in the side of the head. The child gasped, crying out to her daddy. Jumping from her hiding place she ran to him, teddy bear forgotten on the ground. "No! Kitsy! RUN!" Her father tried to push her away, but it was too late the brute who hit her father grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. Hissing and swinging the small child was helpless. "Stupid foolish child! Do you think you could save your father?" With that he threw her against the wall, where she slid down it and land in a crumpled heap. Shaking she got to her feet sniffing, and wiped the back of her paw along her snout; blood. "You bastard!!" Her father was up and to her side at once, holding her head to his chest, glaring at the man. The other at the door turned and laughed, "Better make it quick, seems we attracted some attention." He turned back to the door and leaned against the frame as if there was nothing wrong with the scene behind him. Pushing her behind him her father took his last stand, trying to protect the only thing he had left in life, his beloved Kitsy. "Take me and leave my daughter alone, I beg you. Please let her be." The man would laugh, "On yer life Bloodfang." With that he closed the distance between them in to two long strides, that wicked knife of his biting into her father's gut. A scream of pain and a gurgle, Vance Bloodfang sank to the floor suffering a slow death. Rage motivated Kitsy into action. Her father lay on the floor with a crimson puddle forming around him as he gasped for air. "DADDY!!! DADDY!!" Her eyes turned on the man who was licking his knife clean and with a feral growl she leaped upon him. Claws scratching she latched on to his face and bit his ear, shaking her head violently from side to side. Cutting deep into her side the cold steal ripped her skin from the bottom of her rib cage to her hip. Screaming she fell away clutching her side. Tears stained her face and she crawled to her father's side ignoring the blazing pain. Shallow breaths and unfocussed eyes, his life was fading away before her eyes. "Daddy," she sobbed, "Daddy I love you, please don't leave me..." Tiny fingers flitted over her father's face with shaking hands, lightly tracing the strained lines of his features before touching his cheek. A knot formed in her chest, threatening to suffocate her. Shaky hands traveled down as her gaze fell on the gore that would be her father's death. Sobbing, wet tears streamed down her cheeks fell into the growing pool of blood; a mixture of her father's and her own. Gagging, she placed her small hands over the gash in a futile attempt to hold back the blood, "Daddy," she choked out, "Daddy, please. Please don't die." A shaky paw cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away her tears, "I love you... my beloved..., my sweet Kitsy..." The paw fell away as did the last light in his eyes, Vance Bloodfang was no more. Pulling his head into her lap, Kitsy rocked slowly back and forth while mumbling incoherent words. She was alone and cold, so cold.... The man's cruel laughter was the last thing she heard before she tumbled into darkness.
  
  Kitsy awoke to mind numbing pain in her right side. Small, shaking fingers reached out feeling over the crudely stitched wound. The fur was course, matted with a mixture of her blood and her father's. Daddy, she thought, Daddy is gone now, just like Mama. Tears welled in her eyes and sadness closed her throat, a choked sob forcing its way out. A sudden jolt caused her to cry out in pain, the stitches pulling at her tender swollen skin. Pulling her soiled nightgown away from the wound she screamed. Worms! White worms were crawling over her cut, overflowing in it. There were so many, were they inside her too? Panic flared within her chest and she let out an ear shattering scream, she hastily tried to dig her fingers into the festering wound to get the maggots off of her. Kicking her feet against the wall of her prison, the pain was too much it made her head swim. Suddenly a rough hand grabbed her wrist and twisted it painfully away from her reopened wound, "Stupid foolish girl! Do you want to die?! I'm a man of my word, and I gave my word to your corpse of a father." He smashed her hand into the wooden wall behind her, electing another cry of pain from the small girl. "Leave ta maggots alone brat, they'll clean the wound." Hand went to poke at her swollen side, pinching the skin back together before it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Where was she? Forcing herself into a sitting position, she looked around. It seemed she was in a carriage of some sort. A black curtain was yanked to the side and a face appeared, small beady eyes bore holes into her, blood covered one side of his head, an ear completely ripped off. That's the man who killed Papa! She growled, the fur along her neck and spine hackeling. "I'll kill you!!" She screamed, lunging forward only to fall on her face withering in pain. Heavy iron maniacals bound her ankles; she wouldn't be killing anyone except maybe herself if she kept it up. Barking laughter caused her to curl up even more, the curtain was pulled shut and she was left alone in darkness.
  
  A few days later Kitsy was dumped off; well, dumped being the way she was discarded, but she was sold for a pretty penny. She was to be a slave. The wound on her side was healing, not nearly as sore as it had been. It was clear she would make a full recovery but would be scarred for the rest of her life. And so it began her life in slavery, at the age of five she had lost everything, her family, her freedom and her mind.

• Life as a Slave...

  Marvelo... That name meant so much and so little to Kitsy. The man had destroyed her life in a single night, the man who killed her father, who nearly killed her, but saved her, the man who made her who and what she is today. Marvelo made her life a living hell, a job he did all too well. The bounty hunter was an expert in causing her pain, and spitting on the memory of her father. She never did find out why he killed him, all he ever told her was they had differences, not to mention he pissed off one of the higher ups. As the years passed, she saw less and less of Marvelo, even thought he may have died. Sadly she found out that was not the case. The man would live forever; he made sure his inner fire could never be extinguished. She found out he was alive after trying to escape from a slaver. The man contacted Marvelo, who in turn contacted Kitsy, with his fist. Sick of dealing with the troublesome girl, her nightmare wanted to be rid of her once and for all. Turning her over to some of his lackeys, their orders to bind her arms and legs and dump her in the ocean. The men did as told, if not a bit more, but they didn't count on the girl surviving the ordeal. Lucky enough for her, a passing fisherman saw what was going on, and pulled her half drown body from the water. Not wanting the wrath of the men who did this to her to fall on his head, he dropped her off on a secluded beach. Little did he know, he was being watched by one of the natives of the island, a Naga. The heavy blow to her head wiped her slate clean so to speak, her memories erased except in her nightmares where she relives her past. The Naga who rescued her hid her body in the bowels of a popular slaving establishment, The Golden Tether. Knowing someone could make use of her, the reclusive Naga slithered off into the darkness. Now alone, lost and very confused, Kitsy hid away in the dark.

• Only Time Would Tell...

  It was only a matter of time before word got back to Marvelo about his failure. Kitsy was a hard one to miss; she stuck out in a crowd like a sore thumb. Ever hear the saying 'History has a way of repeating it's self'? Well, in Kitsy's case it always did. It was a cycle; she'd escape, Marvelo came for her. True to his nature, the nightmare of a man appeared one night in room while she slept. Plagued with nightmares, you can imagine her shock when she woke to stare one in the face. Icy hand closed around her slender neck, hauling her out of the bed to slam her against the wall, pinning her wings painfully behind her. "Always the escape artist, even in death." He'd cluck his tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment. He'd sneer, leaning his weight forward, applying more pressure against her throat. Kitsy's eyes water, painfully trying to suck air into her screaming lungs. Claws dug into his forearm, desperately trying to ease the pressure on her throat. "Please," she'd wheeze out, "I.. I can't breathe!" Chilling laugh pierced the air as he threw his head back before zooming in to hover less than an inch from her face. Gnarled tongue crept out of his skull, smacking over his teeth and lips, his eyes hungry. A shiver ran down her spine, face contorting into a mask of pain and fear. She was starting to feel light headed, darkness creeping in from the edges of her vision, she was passing out.
  
  
  
  When she woke all she felt was pain, her throat sore, hurting every time she drew a breath. Was she dead? Without opening her eyes, she'd run a mental check of her body; making sure everything was accounted for and in working order. If she was dead, surely there wouldn't be this much pain? Lying motionless on the cold, hard ground, she'd carefully crack open her eyes. Where was she? It was cold and dark, somewhere in the distance she could hear running water, and even further off she could hear many voices. Groaning, she'd push herself up into a sitting position, hands flying to cradle her head. "Ugh," she'd moan, she felt like crying. All her nightmares were real; they weren’t just dreams after all. The gravity of what that meant struck her hard, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs. Choked sob forced its way out, memories seeping like a black poison into her mind. It all became perfectly clear in that moment, who she was, what she was, and how it had all happened. Hands idly slipped under her corset, numb fingers running over knotted flesh that made up her scar. She was a slave once more.