Her unoccupied mind would wonder to the gruesome scenes being played out on the walls of Castle Arrowthorn. The sounds of battle that she had been try...ng to block from her mind came drifting up to her ears. She could here the sound of steel clashing against wooden shields, the twang of archers bow and worse, the sound of peoples’ screams. She took up her golden harp and began to play a tune she had learnt from a minstrel that had visited the castle in her ninth year. Gradually the soft music. “Yes can I help you?“I’m Jane from the hotel,“Oh I’m so pleased you rang me I would like to thank you for yesterday and if you would like to come over to my studio this week I could show you the pictures we have taken for the brochure and if its ok with you I would like to take some more photos of you to keep in my studio to display my work,“I’m not sure about that what sort of photos are we talking about? What ever you want me to take, anyway see you say Friday,“Ok that fine it’s my day off I. We were left with the rest. Among them were the old women and the children. I developed a habit of plunging my sword into the bellies of those old men and women, hearing them scream in their cracked voices before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I’d carry the heads of my kills back to the village, where they’d be placed beside those of the men and women killed during the raid. Now you’d say, what glory is there in killing old women ? None, it’s just something I did, and still do sometimes.. The news, the people, the women, all of us shared only in subtle glances. There were clues, a rumpled outfit, and the dead giveaways. Like the girl yesterday rushing to her car with cum still dripping down her legs, leaving little puddles with each step. We averted our eyes, somehow unable to speak as the tentacles drew us nearer, claiming more and more. It was so shameful, not that we had been taken, but how each of us enjoyed it. How readily we submitted, twisted to the will of these.