The Final Redemption by Michael Manning (little red riding hood ebook free .txt) 📕

were foolish. I knew it was wrong. Mytransformation into a life-sucking monster had made me ashamed, butas my emotions faded, so did my shame. My guilt passed away,leaving me amoral and empty, possessed only of an unsatisfiedcraving.

She probably wouldn’t bemissed, I rationalized.If I were to do something like that, it wouldprobably be best to stick to undesirables, the people no one wouldcare about. The thought was entirelylogical, and yet I knew I would have found it repugnant—if I hadbeen capable of such a feeling. Maybe if Istick to criminals, I could be an undead vigilante.

That might sit better with my moraland emotional self, once I had taken what I needed. Not that Icared particularly; even guilt was better than the endless greydeath of my current existence. An image of myself, cast as a tragichero suffering eternally while being forced to prey upon the verypeople I sought to protect, played through my mind. At that momentit seemed preferable, almost artistic, compared to the empty voidthat resided where my heart used to be. What would Mother think ofme then?

Somehow I doubted she would see muchdifference in who I decided to prey upon. I would still be amonster.

The debate went on withinme for hours, until sometime around midnight I found myselfstanding outside Myrtle’s home. My feet had taken me there withoutconscious effort, while my mind pretended to be concerned with thedeeper moral issues of taking a life to temporarily restore myhumanity. What about using acriminal? I reminded myself.

It doesn’t really matter.You’re here, take what you need. The only thing of importance isthat no one will miss her. She’s just a whore. My hand opened the door even as my mind made the small effortneeded to unlatch it from the inside.

And Lady Thornbear was‘just a whore’?

“Just shut up,” I said aloud and thenI stepped into the darkened interior of Myrtle’s smallhome.

I had already examined it closely withmy magesight of course, but my physical vision confirmed what I hadlearned earlier. She was alone, sleeping on a small cot in thecorner. There was a small hearth, but it held no fire. Wood wasprobably an expense she couldn’t afford. The weather was currentlyrelatively mild anyway.

I stepped through the cluttered roomcarefully, making as little noise as possible. Once I stood lookingdown upon her I hesitated. Should I begin in a rush? Or proceedslowly? I had no idea what would be better—perhaps slowly, to savorthe moment.

Reaching down I drew thethin blanket that covered her aside, exposing her eminently femalefigure, clad only in a light nightgown. Even sleeping, she lookedfatigued. Maybe I’m doing her afavor. Unable to wait any longer, I let myfingers lightly brush her bare knee, while removing the shield thatwould protect her from their dangerous effect.

I shivered as a delicioussensation of warmth and energy traveled up my arm, giving me goosebumps. Myrtle stirred slightly, one handpulling at her blanket, as if she had felt a chill.I suppose she did, Iobserved.

She pulled the blanket upward, but myhand was still beneath it, so I ignored her movement. Instead Imoved along her thigh, the aythar growing more powerful, the closerI got to her heart. Her eyes opened then, and even in the dim lightshe recognized me, as fear caused her heart to jump within her. Sheopened her mouth, presumably to scream, but I moved too quickly forher. With my right hand I caught her head, and kneeling, I coveredher mouth with my own, to stifle her cries.

Her aythar was a torrent, floodinginto me like a golden river of light and joy. My victim struggledfor less than a second, her body twitching and then sagging as shefell into unconsciousness. My heart was beating now, and my ownbody felt as though it were on fire, burning with waves of pleasureand energy. For a moment my thoughts drifted toward Penny, but Iclamped down upon them quickly. Sadness and regret could comelater.

A new sense of urgency, fear of myreawakening morality, caused me to feed more quickly. Throwing backthe blanket, I kept my mouth upon hers while my hands held her nowlimp body against mine. I could hear Myrtle’s heartbeat faltering,growing erratic, but the aythar continued to roar into me. I wantedit all.

“Momma?” said a small voice from thedoorway. “Is one of your friends here?”

Shock, fear, shame, anddisgust ran through me, warring for first place in my debasedheart. Releasing Myrtle’s body, I let her fall back into her tinycot. Terror kept me from turning to face the small child standingbehind me. I was killing her mother—rightin front of her. What sort of animal am I?

“I’m sorry child, I didn’t realizeanyone else was here,” I replied while simultaneously replacing theshield around myself, the one that would protect her from my darkinfluence.

The girl’s eyes narrowed slightly as Iturned to face her. Going on appearance, I’d have judged her age atseven or eight years, but a hard life had left its imprint on her.Suspicion hovered around her eyes and I was pretty sure that heruse of the word ‘friends’ had been just as much of a fiction to heras it was when her mother first used it as anexplanation.

I could see that she had already takennote of her mother’s unconsciousness when she spoke again, “Who areyou?” She was edging slowly to one side with just a hint ofnervousness now. My senses told me that a knife lay under a thinblanket on the floor in the direction she was heading.

I held up my hands in a gestureindicating I meant no harm. “Forgive me, I’m not one of yourmother’s friends, but I’m here to help.”

“Are you a physician?” she asked, hermouth struggling with the last word. She continued edging towardthe hidden knife.

I seized on the idea she had handedme. “I am a physician, but not the usual sort,” Iagreed.

“Momma says the physicians charge toomuch, and most of the time they don’t help nobody, leastwise not ifyou’re poor,” she replied, showing her first hint of a child’snormal guilelessness as she repeated her mother’swisdom.

My heart was breaking inside as Iwatched the girl’s bravery in the face of such a frighteningsituation. Her life