2 Brutality

"You useless wench, don't you know how to do anything right!" A middle-aged woman with a bun could be seen berating a young girl in white. The woman stomped her foot in anger as she scowled at the girl. "Just having fun all day, that's all you know how to do!" The woman slammed her hand on the table beside her, "If I do not teach you a lesson today, I-"

"What is it this time?" A man's voice resounded through the cottage. The woman turned to look at him, residue flames still burning within her eyes. "Tell the girl to fetch some water, don't make such a big fuss." The woman was clearly unwilling, but she still obeyed the man. To a woman, her husband's words were an order, and an order she had to follow.

"Go on," the man shooed the girl. Seeing an opportunity, the girl grabbed a bucket and quickly scurried off.

"Why did you stop me?" the woman questioned unhappily. "She's not your daughter anyway, she-"

"Shut up." The man glowered at her.

…

The girl ran for a short distance before she stopped, panting for breath.

She walked the rest of the way and soon arrived at the well. It was one of her daily chores, scooping up the water and placing it into the bucket. The ladle was small so it took a long time to fill the bucket. And by the time the bucket was filled, it would be very heavy and she would have to carry it all the way to the cottage while being very careful trying not to spill any of the water.

The girl had just put down the bucket and prepared to scoop the water, when Mary swaggered over with a group of girls behind her. "Here to get some water, are you? Dirty slave!" Mary spat. The group of girls behind her eyed the girl in white like wolves salivating at their prey.

A look of distaste flashed past the girl's eyes as she paused her actions, tightly gripping the scoop in her hands. Remember, you can't cause any trouble. That's the only condition he gave you. The girl stared at the ground, hunching her back, trying hard to diminish her presence.

"It's water that you wanted, correct?" Mary smiled brightly as she reached to her waist and removed a small canteen from her belt. She played with it in her hands before leisurely twisting the cap open. She took one step forward, reaching her hand over the girl's head and pouring out the contents. The dark liquid splashed on the girl's hair, making gurgling noises as it continued to bubble. The girl stared blankly at the ground, her eyes widening. Mary took a step back as if to admire her handiwork, a pleased smile covering her face. "Mm, not bad." Mary turned around to her group of friends. "Girls, what do you think of this wet dog?" The girls giggled, whispering among each other.

"Now, aren't you going to thank me? Doggy." Mary snickered as she crossed her arms, head tilted to the side.

The girl kept her head low, but the veins on her forehead bulged. A sharp glint crossed her eyes as she continued to stare at the ground. She had already become Mary's target. All she could do was to hold herself in, to endure.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Mary grabbed the girl's chin and pulled it upwards. The girl's gaze met Mary's with masked animosity in her eyes, before she quickly stepped away and lowered her eyes again.

"What do you want?" The girl muttered quietly.

"What do I want?" Mary laughed. She pushed the girl roughly and looked at her tauntingly. The girl staggered backwards, wincing.

"This kind of clean water," Mary paused, throwing a glance at the well, "You don't deserve it."

The girl trembled, struggling to keep a straight face. She took the hem of her dress into her hands and twisted the fabric until it creased.

"Relax, what do you take me for? I'm just joking with you." Mary laughed and her friends laughed with her. Signalling the girls, Mary walked away with them following behind her.

…

It was night, the sky pitch black. An occasional breeze would shake the trees outside, filtering in fragments of moonlight. A slim young girl laid curled up on a stack of hay, breathing raggedly as she shivered. A bitingly cold gust roused her from her dreams to the prickling pain of hay. The girl blinked open her eyes, staring straight above her at the straw roof of the cottage. The suppressed whispers of a woman, soft and quiet, made their way to her ears. She was too far, she could only hear wisps of what was said. Slowly and quietly untangling herself from the hay, the girl carefully got up. She felt around in the dark, finding a wall to guide her way. She was making her way to the whispers when suddenly, her shoulder bumped into a blunt edge and a muffled clank was heard.

"Who is it?" The woman probed. She waited, but heard nothing. The woman made some shuffling sounds, clearly uncomfortable with the night's eerie atmosphere.

The girl held her breath, her heart racing. The woman hadn't noticed. The girl sighed in relief, before creeping over to the woman's chambers. The girl remained within the shadows as she listened to the woman talk to her husband. The dim light of the candle flickered weakly, outlining the silhouettes within the dark.

"Today I met with the servant of that self-indulgent old Lord, he asked if there were any girls here the lord would take fancy to."

The man stayed silent, the woman taking it as a sign to continue. "Didn't you say that wench was once the daughter of a noble? There must be something unique about her that the Lord will like. You also know of the Lord's preferences, just right that the wench is still young." – The woman cackled gleefully. There was a trace of provocation in her tone, mixed with schadenfreude and loathing.

In the dark, the girl shuddered, grasping her clothes tightly in her hands. Within her eyes, a dangerous glow brew... As the moon shone through the opening of the roof, she just happened to catch the sharp glint of a something smooth. She squinted at the object – it was curved with a handle, silver with a sinister glow. And it just happened to be within arm's reach.

…

Early in the morning, a thick fog shrouded the whole village in mist. It was still grey and dark, and the sun had yet to rise. A girl dressed in a white gown heaved a large brown bag across the ground over to a dense forest of trees. On her hands were suspicious red marks, and the bag she held left a crimson trail. Strange lumps protruded from the bag, forming a shape that seemed… almost like a human.