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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No.
No no no no no. That's all Desa could think as her hand descended without her will.
With a sickening sloshing sound and crunch of tearing of muscles, the sharp dagger entered Aksel's chest. All her restraint to prevent her hand from doing it had only managed to slide the trajectory of the blade a couple inches. It had nearly missed his heart, lodging in to his skin below his left collarbone.
There was a deafening sound muting her hearing. She could hear her own wild beating heart galloping like it wanted free reign. Everything was slowed down, it took her a million seconds to blink once, she couldn't be sure but she heard a pained groan above the roaring sound in her ears. She didn't know if the sound came from Aksel or her or both of them.
The dagger went deep, up to the hilt. Oh fae, even the sight of it was enough to crush her heart into a million tiny pieces. Desa felt her right hand tighten around the hilt of the dagger and she felt her arm pull back. No.
No, if she pulled it out, he would bleed out. Surely he would die. But her hand didn't listen to her frantic thoughts as it swiftly worked backwards, the torn ligaments she could feel through the hilt of the dagger as she pulled it back was enough to hate herself a thousand lifetimes.
She still hadn't found the courage to look up at Aksel's face, to see the betrayal and pain she would surely find there. She watched her own hand move like she was an innocent bystander. Her gaze horrifiedly locked as the dagger left his chest and then blood flowed from the wound. One heartbeat, and blood sprayed onto Desa's face. No. A second passed, Desa blinked. Another spurt of blood hit Desa's face. Lord no, she had hit an artery, with every heartbeat the wound was gushing projectile blood.
Desa's eyes were forced open as she felt her hand trembling in the air, she was going to stab him again. She felt like crying but all there was, was Aksel's blood running down her face. Like grotesque twisted tears. All she could see was fresh blood, and there was so much of it. Too much of it, it was quickly soaking up his tunic and dripping on the wooden floorboards of the hallway.
Her hand trembled harder, moving down, she needed to do something or she was going to stab him again. Desa held her hand where it was with her whole might and then forcefully pulled her left leg up, kicking Aksel in his stomach. He hit the wall with a thud and then slid down. She really didn't want to hurt him any further but she felt her body sag in relief as three paces of space was restored between them and the control of her body returned to her.
Her chest was heaving in panic as she let her hold on the dagger go and the knife clattered to the ground in a bloody mess. Aksel was on the ground leaning his back to the wall. His right hand was above his wound, and Desa could see how much blood he was losing every second as red seeped from between his fingers.
Desa unconsciously took a step forward to help him, stop the bleeding, something, anything but she stopped herself. The second she was too close, she would hurt him again. Desa looked down at her bloodied trembling hands. She was useless, absolutely useless as Aksel bled to death in front of her.
