The Lair of the Baobhan Sith

There isn't much of the supernatural in the Scottish Highlands, but for the baobhan sith. Much like a banshee and vampire mixed, but is actually a dark fae, the baobhan sith is always a woman. She makes her home in the moors and swamps, drifting near enough to civilization to eat at night, calling out to those who taste of blood. Her hooves crunch the bones of the devoured, wayward souls that litter the Highland moors. On April 15, 1743, the trees fade into open grassland as the sun sinks below the horizon. A white and brown barn owl flies overhead, searching for it's dinner.

The Scottish Highland air was crisp and heady with the scents of blood and the wilderness. Anna wandered silently, listening intently for signs of travelers. After a half hour or so, she came upon a small British patrol, with approximately six soldiers in the makeshift camp. Slowly, she circled the camp, keeping to the shadows, trying to decide which man smelled best. Finally, she decided on the man tending to the fire. He'd hunted earlier in the day, she could smell it. Seeing that he was the only one awake besides the soldier on watch, Anna grinned, and decided to make her move. The guard wasn't paying attention anyways. Carefully, she glided silently into the camp, making sure to sway her hips seductively. The man noticed her movements and looked up, pausing at seeing her beauty, and smiled dazedly. Anna put a finger to her lips, and beckoned him towards her, before turning and sauntering away, graceful and lithe as a dancer. The soldier immediately stood up, glanced at the unaware guard looking in the other direction, and then quickly followed her into the trees, grinning stupidly at his luck. When they were a few yards from camp and away from the watchman's gaze, Anna turned and waited for her prey to arrive. It was so easy. Within moments, the soldier had caught up.

"Hello, handsome," Anna whispered seductively, gently swaying her hips in silent dance. "Care for some, pleasurable company?" she asked, touching his uniformed chest lightly.

The soldier nodded eagerly. "You're beautiful," he whispered disbelievingly. Anna hummed contentedly and stepped closer, putting her arms around his neck and caressing his jaw.

"What's your name?" Anna asked him, smiling. Not that she cared, it was merely a means of distraction.

"Private Williams, mistress," he replied, taking a firm hold of her hips. He sighed lustfully as she played with his uniform, continuing to dance and grind her hips into his. She tilted her head and kissed his lips softly, humming. So close now, she thought. Easy does it. He responded strongly, pushing her back into a tree. He was strong, that made his blood all the better. As she kissed him, Anna drug her sharp fingernails across Williams' throat, cutting him deeply. The blood poured effortlessly from his throat as he gasped in shock. He staggered backwards, eyes bulging in surprise, and Anna latched onto his throat, drinking ravenously. Delicious.

Carefully, she eased the private to the ground, her lips never leaving his throat. When she had drunk her fill, Anna pulled back and sliced open the soldier's chest, flaying the skin and fabric open to the night air. Blood continued to spill, and Anna drank it all. When she was done, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back in ecstasy. She hummed, full and content for the first time in what seemed like forever. Then she opened her eyes and looked down at the dead man. They would find him tomorrow, no doubt. Quickly, she used her claws to sever his head the rest of the way. Then she propped his body up against a tree and folded his hands, setting the severed head in them. Anna giggled. Maybe they'd think the Scots did it.

~~~

Three years later, Captain Jonathan Greenfield swallowed as he took off his hat and entered the cavern. It was fairly deep, and rather large, with a waterfall and rocky ledges. He knew she was here. She had to be. He glanced down and picked up a rib bone, inspecting it.

“What do you seek, Jonathan Greenfield?”

The voice was enticing, and was just as he had remembered. He had searched for her for years, that fae from the farm, even going as far as to try and summon her, with no such luck. Anna had escaped him entirely, and now, he had found her again. “I would ask that you give me a gift, Anna.”

“A gift? I don't do gifts. However, I shall give you what you ask if you give me what I want,” she replied, her voice echoing in the cave. He couldn’t ascertain as to where she was, but he knew she could see him. He looked around, searching the dark walls for her as he held up his torch to see better. “What is it you want, Captain?”

“I am to die tomorrow, madam, on Culloden battlefield. I’m sure this pleases you. I should like to know a woman once more prior to that.”

“Can you not do this on your own? You are handsome, and so should not have trouble seeking a woman,” she told him. "Why come to me?"

“I can,” he agreed. “But I have issues now. I was in a duel last year, and my cock was nearly cut off. Stitched back together, but I have great difficulty in getting myself to rise. I should like to be a man once more before my death.”

“And what will you give me for this, Jonathan Greenfield?”

“Grant me this simple thing, and I am yours, madam.”

She stepped out onto a ledge behind him, naked and beautiful. Seeing her out of the corner of his eye, he turned and gazed at her lustfully, humming. “You’re blood is sweet,” she replied. “I want you.”

He briefly considered it, swallowing nervously. “Then take me. What does it matter where I die, so long as I die tomorrow morning?”

“So be it.”

A barn owl screeched outside, an omen of death. Anna jumped down from the ledge and came around to face him. "You agree that in exchange for a night with me, I will kill you," she explained. "This is the bargain we agree to?"

"Yes," Jonathan replied, swallowing again. "Take me, before I change my mind."

"We are agreed then," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, pulling him into the water. "Dance with me."