#1 Dinner

'Gods are perfect. Perfect deceivers in their Halls of splendour.

Through their might we prosper, to their power we surrender.

In this realm we are protected by their magic and strength alone,

But there are evils more powerful than even them, beyond this realm

Out in the unknown.'

Drake

The hearths warmth was gentle and mild, keeping the occupants at the manor's dining table comfortable. Laughter. Erupting through the walls of the kitchen, echoing through the house's rooms and floors; the usual dinner time routine. A happy family inside the safety of their home.

"Father you can't just wolf them down, we have those too…" suggests the son, pointing from the beautifully sliced meat, marinated in the Adderson's home made honey, towards the locally grown vegetables from the gardens. "You've got to save some for me father!"

"Yes, I know son, just feels like I haven't eaten in forever. My stomach is rumbling with anticipation". He chuckles a hearty laugh and rubs his stomach playfully. Everyone at the table smirks, they are happy. A happy family of four. They were beginning to tuck into a freshly cooked animal, its meat laid out and perfectly cooked thanks to the mother's hard work. A stunning woman with strawberry blonde hair and purple glazed eyes. She glides into her seat gracefully after placing a final serving of buttered bread on the table top. The table cover is a pale violet, with specs and dots of white along it. An expensive piece the previous residents had left them, and they would take good care of it in their stead.

Taking after her mother, the daughters' eyes are a striking neon purple with her vibrant ginger hair to match. An uncommon combination seen as a blessing upon the family by many. She reaches out a gentle, snow white hand to grab some condiments for her meal when there is a creek from the hallway. The floorboards shift under the weight of something, 'Uncle?' she thinks. Was she imagining it? She did not know; All she knew was that they were home alone other than her uncle who was out tending to the vineyard. Or so they should be. Placing her vegetables on her plate she trained her ears towards the open door. Waiting. Patient. Listening to anything that could be a threat.

"Honey what are you doing, enjoy this meal your mother prepared for us. It's delicious." The father turns and offers a beaming smile towards his wife. She blushes.

"Come now daughter, eat your meat and veg so you can grow big and strong just like your brother!" states the mother. The son flexes his muscles, patting his hand on his hard-earned trophies. This was the extent of his personality, always showing off to people. The family chuckles gleefully at the son's proud display, but the daughter scoffs. Her head swivels back to the table. 'Never mind.' She thinks, her attention now placed back at the table.

"Okay father, I'll have a taste". Her knife and fork cut through the tender meat and she bites down hard, savouring the sweet flavour in her mouth. Her eyes light up. The meat is beautifully smoky, the honey complimenting the flavour perfectly. Delicious. 'It better be for all the trouble we went through catching it. And all it did was cry. Such an annoying thing' she thinks. Licking the residue of honey from her lips, the daughter remarks "Mother this is amazing…" Yet her words fall on unhearing ears. As she looks up, the cheery smiles on her parents faces have vanished. In its stead is horror, pure horror written vividly across their faces.

The father trembles bringing his hands up slowly from his meal.

The mother gasps, her hand covering her mouth in disbelief and fear.

The son stands, scraping his chair across the kitchen floor and staring fearfully at the door.

The daughter turns slowly, dreading whatever is behind her, and as she turns, she sees death standing in the doorway, with a grim, disgusted smile on his face. The Guild was here, and not just any member had come. The man was here to kill them. Stood still, unmoving and rigid, he glared at all of them with murderous intent. A sack is pulled out from behind his back and scattered onto the floor with a sickly wet thump rolls their uncle's head. His face is battered, and a small, round hole runs through his forehead from which the blood had poured down his face. His eyes stare into nothingness. The man looks unfazed, his handy work at his feet. Next, he reaches into his cloak; the family flinches as he pulls from within a cigarette which he places gently between his lips and lights up with a firestone lighter. He sucks in a breath and exhales a thick swarm of smoke that dances through the room.

"A dinner party… why wasn't I invited?" spits the man, gun in hand. The intruder's cigarette glows as he sucks in a breath, smokes as he exhales. He looks between them, daggers of cold hatred piercing them as he glares. "You monsters!"

The family dive for cover and cutlery, the son charges the man. However, it is all too late, and the sound of gunshots and screams erupt from the room, echoing throughout the house. All the time the man smiles, not in a sinister way, just with sadness and a tear in his eye.