A naked beauty with pale skin and bountiful breasts hums to herself in a bathtub filled with red rose petals. Clarise red lips widen flashing sharp fangs as the trembling food nears her and begins to gently wash her hair. Clarise lets out a sigh of contentment as rushed footsteps swiftly near.

A pale man with crimson eyes in a clean pressed suit halts directly before her. “My apologies, Lady Clarise, but I bring news,” the man swiftly said.

Clarise leans back further against the tub causing her luscious form to rise further in the soapy water. She softly mutters, “Hmmm…?”

“There was an event at the Academy, two opposing parties fought and failed to be caught,” The man reported.

Clarise opens her ruby eyes and purrs, “Excellent. Then let us use this to our advantage, my pet. Let them suspect all they wish after all our hands are clean and let us use the clouded waters to our advantage. Inform Luther, that Selena, the Goddess of the Night has come to me in vision. Tell Luther that he has found grace unto her eyes and has been granted permission for his Holy Sacrament and Ceremony. He may carry out the godly feast as previously requested and was denied.”

The man seems startled for a moment, before dutifully replying, “As Lady Clarise wills it, it shall be done.” The man smoothly turns on his heels and departs from the bathroom.

Clarise tilts her head to the side and says, “Little meal, not so hard, gently.” The food shivers with fear and much more softly washes Clarise’s hair. Clarise smiles to herself as she hears the food’s heart pound. And from the depths of the water, a large fin emerges and beings to circle the struggling, the still flailing body.

Clarise playfully sings, “Your heart hits like a drum, oh, oh, oh; The hunt has just begun, oh, oh, oh-.” The food’s heartbeat in turn skyrockets, barely able to keep messaging. Clarise lets out a musical laugh and mutters, “Little meal, it’s merely a song. Don’t be frightened.” The food large eyes tremble with unshed tears as the food does their best to do as asked.

Clarise smiles coldly to herself and hums that song to herself, enjoying the delicious scent of fear emanating from the food until it grows thick and steady. Without warning, much like a shark’s attack, white fangs flash in the air and a white hand grasps the food firmly in place. Ravenous glistening white teeth tear into the soft flesh of the food’s neck. Sweet warm liquid sprays out from the violent gashes as the food pitifully gurgles too late as it is swiftly devoured.

Full and drenched in blood, Clarise lets out a content sigh of satisfaction. Dropping the corpse onto the floor, Clarise reaches for a small hand bell at the foot of the bathtub. Gently ringing the bell thrice, Clarise waits as the soft fearful steps of food slaves uneasily approach. Seeing her covered in blood and that of the corpse on the floor, the slaves tremble in fear as they come to a halt a short distance away.

“I need another bath run up and please, clean this mess up,” Clarise firmly ordered. The food slaves swiftly move forward and drag the blood drained corpse away by the heels creating a bloody trail of blood across the bathroom tiled floor. One of the food slaves holds out a crisp, white, fluffy bathrobe. Clarise rises to her feet as the male bucks avert their eyes as blood and water stream off her well-shaped body. The female does hurry forward and help her into her robe, tying the robe closed.

Clarise takes a seat nearby, while the female does clean her hands and file her nails. The male bucks drain the bathtub and clean the tub until it is once more spotless. Sometime later, the tub is filled with warm water and carefully placed rose perfume and bath rose petals. Dropping the robe onto the floor like a dirty rag, Clarise strides across the bathroom and leisurely enters the tub. The female does swiftly gather the bathrobe and other items as the male bucks aid them in their effort, all the while Clarise enjoys her warm bath soak.

Before the food slaves are permitted to leave, Clarise says, “I need someone to wash my hair. The pretty blond doe will be best. The rest of you may go and rest for the night.” The blond doe shivers as the food slaves abandon one of their members and flee for safety. “Don’t be frightened, little doe. I already ate and I am quite full,” Clarise warmly said, flashing a dazzling white-toothed smile.

The fearful doe’s fears remain unappeased as the prey approaches the predator. The golden doe gently begins to wash Clarisse hair as instructed. Clarise smiles and leans back the tub enjoys her message and dark dreams. Because one day, she would ensure the world would be covered in blood. And what a glorious and most delicious day that would be.

*

Fearful screams of pain and terror fill the air and echo in the stone building. Steel cages hung high up in the air, hold starving figures and tortured beings. A mass of red-hooded figures kneels before an altar made of dark ebony and ivory. A figure in bright, red priest robes stands before the red hooded masses, a pale, bald man with crimson eyes, holds a sharp, extravagant, ruby encrusted ceremonial blade up in the air. A mangled figure without limbs is tied to the altar and lets out soft cries of pain.

“We the children of the night have been found innocent and worthy, before the eyes of the great mother. The Goddess has spoken and we are to preach her word to the infidels and heathens of this world. A red day, a great day will be found and the world will know the might of the great Mother!” The priest known as Luther said, and without further ado, plunged his blade into the chest of the figure upon the altar. Against all odds and impossible odds, the priest methodically and carefully removes a still beating heart.

Holding the beating heart of the sacrifice in the air, the red hooded figures begin to chant, “Manducare!” “Manducare!” Manducare!” Priest Luther smiles evilly in pleasure and brings the still beating heart to his lips. Opening his mouth wide, he plunges into the beating heart and swallows. The heart ceases to beat, being torn into bloody pieces and with swift and quick relish, the heart is soon at the bottom of a dark filthy pit, the stomach of High Priest Luther.

Shrill cries of joy of the hooded believers fill the air as the cries of despair and horror of the tortured fill the air in perfect harmony. Luther beams at the glory bestowed upon him and his congregation. Licking the drops of blood from his lips, Luther motions for a faithful organ player to begin playing, a song worthy of the atmosphere. The organist begins to play, “Toccata and Fugue in D minor.” A wonderful ballad to the great mother, but such a shame it was created by mere prey. But surely, the Goddess in her great mercy had granted clemency to the mere slave and permitted her majestic grace to visit upon him inspiration.

The red hooded congregation hum to the song and stand. They move side to side in perfect sync, creating an eerie rippling wave motion across the congregation. Priest Luther eyes glitter sinisterly as the cogs in his dark mind, begin to turn with macabre plots. And woe, the unsuspecting world, the day Priest Luther stepped out of the shadows and into the light.