A morally lost elven who is forced to work as a killer, has been waiting for a target that will finally get her killed.
She just might get her wish this time.
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Desa is bound by a powerful enchantme...
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The first thought she had as she woke up was, she should stop drinking. The second was she should have closed the drapes after she came in last night.
The bright light filtering in from the windows was too sunny, too yellow, and too warm. Perfect for a morning person. Which Desa was adamantly not. She liked the dark starry sky too much to cheat on night time with day time. She rolled over onto her back and let out a long groan. Everything hurt. Not as much as it should've but it still hurt nonetheless.
Her elven blood had already healed most of last night's shenanigans. She was still hungover but that was hardly her genes' lack of trying. She always had too much to drink, just in case her high didn't last enough to get her through the night. She slept like the dead or didn't sleep at all. The nightmares were too bad to just have a normal night.
She turned her head into her pillow and considered wasting the day away by sleeping. Then her stomach grumbled and made the decision for her. Getting up it was then. She nimbly sat up and looked at the clothes scattered around the bedroom. Everything was in a disarray. She didn't have much in furniture just a bed a dresser and a carpet in her bedroom.
She looked down at herself. She was wearing a long oversize shirt which she had on backwards. At least this time she wasn't naked. She tended to just strip down before crashing because the alcohol made her whole body heat up like she was lit on fire. Another bonus of being intoxicated, feeling like being burned alive every night like she deserved.
She shook her head to get rid of the remnants of sleep and stepped around the mess scattered on the floor making her way to the bathroom. She turned on the shower to a numbing cold before stripping herself of the long shirt and getting under the stream. Goosebumps formed all over her from the ice cold shower but she forced herself to relax under it.
This was the fastest way to get herself to wake up and she had work to do. Her wet hair clung to her back as rivulets flowed down over her face. It was morning, she had nothing to worry about. Another night passed and another day came. Just like nothing had happened.
She roughly rubbed out the dirt and grime off of her skin along with the stench of alcohol from last night. When all of her body was red from the rough treatment and she felt like she had successfully scratched down to a new skin, she closed the tap and left the shower.
Grabbing a towel, she dried her hair and and body. Then she wrapped it around her body. Finally taking a deep lung full of air, she felt like it was easier to breathe again. That was until she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her wet black wavy hair framed her face and fell down to her waist. Her lithe but muscled limbs from fighting and killing were strong but covered with countless nicks and cuts. A rather big one slashed down her forearm along with smaller ones. Everywhere she looked, she found scarred lines. Her white skin was riddled with them. Some dark, some light depending on when she had them.
She looked back at her face and gritted her teeth when she saw the red eyes looking back at her. She would never be able to fully describe just how much she wanted to kill the reflection for destroying everything she had.
