Away she trod, darkness riding in her heart.
Death and destruction followed in her wake.
How did this all start?

A small child watched.
From the shadows she saw creatures,
Creatures that killed, cursed, or destroyed.

Werewolves, vampires, banshees, and hags all came.
Her mother welcomed them all.
Revenge was her deepest desire.

Potions brewed,
They brought despair, death, or imprisonment,
To bodies, minds, or souls.

In the end her mother left,
But the child remembered her laughter,
The triumph that her father never more could hurt another.

Death and despair was her mother’s legacy.
One that she was able to refine and develop,
To bring herself power and everlasting life.

Death was the void at the end,
A void she feared to face.
For in death she would have to face all she had done.