Paulette's axe tore through the last of her firewood with ease. The split ran perfectly down the middle of the asymmetrical log with a straight, clean cut. The two pieces fell apart, tumbling from the aged stump unto the grass below them. Paulette scooped both separated pieces within her arms and carried them to a perfectly arranged stack of split logs lining the side of her house close to her front door. Next to this was another smaller pile by her door, which she intended to donate to others once winter hit. Not everyone in Norbois had the time or energy to chop their own firewood for the coming winter months, so Paulette felt there was no harm in lending a hand to those who needed it.
It was repetitive and uninteresting, but it was natural to Paulette, momentarily putting her mind at ease. It was nothing more than a distraction, a temporary escape from the abhorrent and unnatural hell that lurked in the foggy woods outside her home. It allowed her to momentarily forget about the four mercenaries: the elf, the nervous one with the ugly mustache, the one who glared at them, and the strange one who kept his distance. She held onto the faintest hope that they could kill it, but all this did was remind her of the first five who went in. Damien and Thierry were always the largest and bravest men on Norbios, yet her last memory of them was their ear-piercing screams that echoed through the tree line. Their final moments ripped her from the dreaming world and back into reality. Her faith in the young sellswords brought the image of Sabine's severed arm back, still adorned with the silver wedding ring Gaston gave her. Such young lives needlessly cut short.
When she looked into the fog, a knot formed in her stomach that submerged her mind in a fear she hadn't felt since she was a child. It brought her back to a time when she didn't understand the world when misbehaving meant being taken by devils and the woods were home to monsters conjured up by her nightmares.
A noise from the other side of her house drew her attention away from the forest. It sounded like someone was carving into the wood of her home with one long unending stroke. Paulette held her axe up, poised to strike at any possible moment as she crept around the house with hushed steps. She poked her head around the corner, expecting to catch a glimpse of the vandal in the act, and she could see nothing but a cloud of fog that retreated into the woods. With the head of her axe by her head, Paulette turned the corner and saw the claw marks etched into the side of her home, running from end to end of the wooden house.
"You want to play games now, don't you?" Paulette asked the open air as if it would respond. "I'm not scared of you! I'll kill you where you stand!"
Paulette ran back to the front of the house, her hands holding the axe so hard she could nearly crush its wooden handle. She stood at the ready outside her home; if she were to die today, she would rather die fighting than afraid.
"Come on out, you bastard. I'm not here to play games." Paulette said with a growl.
The fog responded with only silence as if it were mocking her, though Paulette still felt the Wraith's piercing stare hidden behind the cloudy veil. The cold malice behind its empty eyes projected itself through the fog, battering Paulette's resolve, poking at her until she broke. It watched her, seeing through her display of strength hiding her fear. The Wraith would've enjoyed toying with her, whittling at her resolve to make ending her life all the sweeter. Things were different now, however, as she decided to fight back by sending the mercenaries. They had more potential to be tormented, so Paulette was no longer useful to the Wraith.
Shrouded in fog, the Wraith's hulking silhouette took form. Even from a distance, Paulette could see that it towered over her, evoking the nightmarish tales of her childhood. As the Wraith stepped forward, the fog made way for its lord, letting Paulette see her tormentor fully. Its marked skull stared at her emotionlessly, obscuring the utter glee it was in. The Wraith held the fingers on its right hand tight, covering its wound until it healed.
The monster's footsteps were slow and powerful, filling the late afternoon air with crinkling leaves and snapping branches. Paulette and the Wraith locked eyes, one filled with rage and terror, another with overjoyed delight. 'No turning back now' rang through Paulette's head while her eyes zeroed in on the monster that had tormented her. With one last breath, She charged at the Wraith. The monster showed no reaction to the woman, continuing its approach with a steady yet lumbering pace, even as Paulette was mere inches away from it.
Paulette swung her entire body at the Wraith's abdomen with all her might, expecting a satisfying slicing sound and a hard impact. Instead, she swung into a swirling grey fog that sat where the Wraith once stood. The fog remained in that spot, surrounding her for a moment before drifting away towards another spot in the clearing outside the house. The mass of fog stopped and began shifting its shape until the Wraith reappeared, unphased by Paulette's assault. The expressionless skull that made up its head was surely hiding a devious smile.
The Wraith came at her again, charging her with its claws poised to strike. Paulette met its charge with her own, prepared to respond to its evasive maneuvers. She swung at the monster again, striking fog once again. The cloud swiftly shifted behind her and reformed into the Wraith again. It didn't hesitate to strike as it swiped at her with one of its massive clawed hands. Paulette ducked down, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp claws aimed at her. The Wraith turned to mist again and drifted to her right, reappearing with its hand raised to strike downwards. Paulette rolled left through the patches of dirt and grass, catching a brief glimpse as the Wraith's claws hit the ground.
Paulette pulled herself off the ground as the Wraith turned to fog and circled her in its incorporeal form. It paused, the fog swirling in calculated silence as Paulette zeroed in on the creature. She clutched her axe so hard the wooden handle might break in her grip, waiting for it to strike. Instead, it pulled back, inching toward the woods, though Paulette could feel its malignant stare through the fog.
"Paulette, is everything alright?" A voice called out from the nearby trail leading back to Norbois. She recognized the voice as Yvette, a worker from the lumberyard who moved into Norbois only a few months ago. She was a hard worker, and on quiet days she often liked to come by with a bottle of Shemlyan vodka. Yvette was chipper and somewhat naive in Paulette's eyes, but she appreciated her unjaded perspective on the goings-on of Norbois. Paulette took her eyes off the Wraith for a split second to address the young woman and hopefully save her life.
"Yvette, run, get ou-" Paulette was cut short by the Wraith backhanding her in the chest, knocking her to the ground. Before Paulette could get her bearing, the Wraith was on her, grabbing her entire torso in one hand, its fingers wrapping around her body with a crushing grip. She felt herself being pulled into the air effortlessly, only to be slammed back into the ground. Her back was the first to hit the ground, violently knocking the breath out of her. Paulette's head whipped around after landing, the impact momentarily disorientating her. The blow seemed to force the strength out of her as her axe fell out of her hand, leaving her stunned and struggling to get back up. Through her disorientation, she could hear Yvette let out a shocked scream.
With her opponent stunned and unarmed, the Wraith plunged its long claws into Paulette's chest. A short, quiet yelp came out of Paulette's mouth as the pain began to sink in. It sunk its claws further in, enjoying every second of her death, a moment it had been craving for weeks. The blank voids of its skeletal eyes stared at her one last time, taking in her suffering before she passed. Paulette looked away, her time had come, and her concern lay elsewhere. Yvette had dropped the bottle of vodka in a panic and was running back toward the safety of the town as fast as her legs could carry her.
The Wraith slowly turned its gaze to where she was looking and saw the running woman. With a quick slick, it ripped its claws from Paulette's chest, shooting a new wave of pain across her body. The Wraith faded into its clouded form and chased after Yvette. Paulette was sure that one of its claws hit her lungs, as breathing had become a painful struggle. Her strength left her, spilling out from the five puncture wounds on her chest.
'Don't stop Yvette, don't look back, just keep running.'
As if Yvette could hear her thoughts, the young woman sprinted down the road as fast as she could. The farther she ran, the less Paulette could see her; the same was true for the fog-shrouded Wraith pursuing her. Soon both were out of her vision, and a terrible concoction of hope and dread wrapped around her mind. She picked herself up, only for her arms to give out and drop her back down. Two more labored breaths filled with frustration, weariness, anger, and terror followed as she waited for the inevitable.
Far out in the distance, down the road back to the town, a distant scream shifted the dying woman's attention.
'Damnit, no, just end it with me, you bastard.'
The screaming was accompanied by cries for help that would go unanswered. That faint hope for Yvette evaporated once she started getting closer to Paulette. In its physical form, the Wraith was coming her way with the kicking and screaming Yvette in its hand. Her feet dragged along the ground in vain, reaching for any possible traction to stop her captor. The Wraith's pace was hasty as it stormed down the road back to Paulette, though once it reached the dying woman, it began taking slow, deliberate steps, allowing Paulette to take in the sight before her. Yvette hung in the Wraith's hand, its palm smothering her eyes and its fingers wrapping around her entire head, purposely leaving her mouth and nose unobscured.
The Wraith stared at Paulette silently, though she knew it was laughing at her suffering, pain, and anguish. It cocked its head slightly before turning back and returning to its shrouded lair. As the last figment of life faded from her, Paulette whispered a simple request.
"Please, let me be the last."
