• They were not wrong, the sooth-sayers.

    Gathered around the birth-bed, the three, shrivelled women stared at the young girl-child, still wet from birth. In their dusty little voices, they told her future in an instant. “If in innocence she grows, blessings she shall give the weak; If innocent blood is shed, humans’ hunter she shall be. Avenger of the broken, destroyer of the darkness, Death itself shall not be safe.”
    Stricken, her parents vowed to shield her from the world. Two decades passed, and the girl-child grew into a woman; compassionate, delicate and gentle-hearted. But when she was walking through her family’s estate, a slighted stablehand slew another, having grown weary of the other’s attitude. In that single act of violence, blood splattered to the ground at her feet, decorating her toes in droplets. Stunned she stood, watching in mute horror as the guards executed the offending stablehand for his own act. When it was over, she fell into a swoon and was consumed in a fever.
    For a week she burned, body ashen and restless as she battled her own fate. When she opened her eyes, they were no longer child-like. Soon after she left the estate, left her parents, left her life to pursue the life she was cursed with. And now.....

    With the sickening sound of flesh on flesh, the burly man slammed his fist into the stomach of the woman. She merely folded, taking the blow before straightening again. Pulled back, her pale arms were limp and serene, relaxed like the rest of her body. Fair and heart-shaped, her delicate face seemed so inadequate for the burning eyes they held.
    “I’m going to kill you for taking away my girl,” the man growled “but first, we’ll have a bit of fun.” The man holding her arms cackled, dragging her closer to his chest.
    Calmly she said, “So you intend to rape me like you wished to do unto that poor girl.” Another cackle was her answer, and she responded with a thin smile. “Very well. Men like you don’t deserve to exist on this Earth.” With an easy, fluid motion, she jerked her arms out of the man’s embrace, slyly hitting him on the jaw and flooring him to the ground. “You merely muddy it’s grace,” she hissed, kicking the other man in the ribs. By the sound of it, she had cracked a few.
    Falling to the ground and uttering unintelligible curses, the man rubbed at his ribs. Standing over him, the girl stared at him with her eerie, murderous blue eyes. “Do unto others only as you wish them to do unto you. Farewell,” and with that, she raised her leg, kicked hard once, and killed the man with a blow to his spine. As she turned to the whimpering coward on the alleyway floor, she heard the footsteps of the Guardians approaching. “Let this be a lesson to you,” she informed him, before vanishing into the gloom.

    They called her the Slayer, the killer of thieves, rapists, scum and tricksters. The Guardians both hated and loved her, fearing her wrath. The lowlife of the streets always looked over their shoulders, terrified of spotting the slender figure of the girl who would no doubt be their death. But such a death was preferable, after all, who would not want to die at the hands of a beautifully merciless maiden?