Part One

"Do you think me malicious and perfidious? Crude and cruel? So big and bad, the wolf under the blanket? Do you think me an evil man, Madame? A true nightmare in daylight?" Ancient rasp, the remains of "his" voice, boiled over his teeth. The stench of rotten, human flesh leaked off the man's tongue as it slithered on his cracked lips. She struggled to retain her disgust, her horror, her fears and darkest worries. She grew so weary under the clutch of his presence. The lurking whisper of death wound around the drum of her ear and all she could hear was the pounding of her own blood: the wine to suit his meal.