Once Upon a Raven

By Serenity Rayne

Do you know what it's like to be cursed? I do. The last ten years of my life I can only return to my human form for five days. All because of the Voodoo Witch Doctor Jacques. One of the idiots in my congress broke his daughters heart. In turn, He dubbed all raven shifters evil, and cursed us. He gave us calavera's and a choice, kill or die. I'm a survivor, and I plan on beating last years body count. There's one unforeseen glitch in my plans, and her name is Mina. *

 

* TRIGGER WARNING** BDSM elements, torture, prostitution. Graphic death scenes in unique ways, Stockholm syndrome elements. Mass murderer turned anti-hero

• Language: English
• Publisher: Serenity Rayne
• Release date: Oct 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215355916

Book preview

Prologue

My congress and I were cursed almost ten years ago by a voodoo witch doctor on All Hallows’ Eve. He believed that we were creatures of pure evil thus we should be cursed as such. We were tasked with searching out the evil in the world and destroying it by any means necessary.

Recently I broke away from my congress and took flight alone. Personally, I prefer to hunt thieves, rapists, and murderers. At least I feel like I may be making a difference in the world. Over the last ten years things have changed, and I’ve started to enjoy my task a little too much. Maybe the voodoo witch doctor that cursed my congress and I had a brilliant idea. Then again the punishment is no longer a punishment when you enjoy it. The thrill of the hunt and the fear in my target’s eyes warms my black heart.

The stone, my Calavera, was given to me to trap the souls; if held to the body too long it creates mummies. The stone literally sucks the life out of the being, leaving a dried out husk. Honestly, the stone gets boring and is so unoriginal. There’s only four nights and days out of the year I can assume my human form. The Day of the Dead is probably the most fun of them all. I look forward to it every year. Leaving husks everywhere and the idiot humans believe them to be decorations. Ha! The looks on their faces is fucking priceless! The running and screaming is completely worth waiting for. The sheer panic and borderline stampede that happens is a work of art.

I sit today on top of a telephone pole watching the comings and goings of the most seedy bars in town. In three days time my reign of terror begins. I have marked almost two dozen miscreants to die at my talons. As usual, several hookers line the four corners. Each one waiting for a John to pick them up and pay for their services. There’s been a being hunting the hookers; I’m currently hunting the hunter. Once I see my target I’ll follow them home and mark it in my memory.

It’s my lucky night after all. The one I suspect to be the hunter has arrived. The hunter’s pattern has been that he takes no less than two hookers at a time. I watch closely from my perch and on cue he waves for two hookers to approach. Both women enter the suburban and he drives off. I take flight riding the thermals, following him to his destination. He pulls into what looks like an abandoned old mansion. Both ladies hold on to him as they head up the stairs. The man himself is dressed in a tailored suit with his hair perfectly held in place. He opens the front door with an almost theatrical flair. He bows slightly and waves for the ladies to enter before him. The women are laughing and giggling, unsuspecting of what is about to happen to them.

I fly over to the tree that’s right up against the building. I start hopping from branch to branch until I find which room they are in. There’s a second man in the room, one I didn’t account for. This man seems to be the one in charge. The suit man bows out and leaves the room. Now it’s getting interesting, he moves his hand and the girls approach. He stands and leads the girls to a staircase that looks to lead into the bowels of the mansion.

I continue to hop branch to branch, descending until I’m on the ground. I hop towards the cellar window in time to watch him disembowel the first hooker. The second hooker is running around trying to escape the room. The man lashes out with a whip that’s covered in razor blades. Flesh is ripped off of her body and blood is gushing out of her severed veins and arteries. The woman is growing pale and weak before my eyes. Mentally, I note I need to use his own whip against him. I place his face at the top of my hit list. Tomorrow, when I am able to become human again, he will pay. I’ll hit him with the whip then use the amulet to capture his soul.

Date: October 30, 2019 Mischief Night

As soon as the sun sets, my body starts to reform back to the man I once was. Oh yes, I've waited so long for tonight to come. I move before the mirror in the abandoned house I’ve chosen as my base of operations. I check that I still carry that cursed Calavera that the Witch Doctor gave me. Creepy little fucker, its eyes glow every time I feed it a soul. I run the pad of my thumb over the coronal and sagittal suture lines, enjoying the familiar feel of my little mummy maker.

I open the door to my balcony and I look out over the town, watching all the mischief makers roaming the night. It's time to join in the fun. The only great thing with this curse is, I don't have to worry about hiding clothing all over town. Unlike other shifters, being cursed has a bonus, my clothes shift with me. I leap off the railing and take flight towards my first target.

The John that gathers the hookers for slaughter. His car is parked about four blocks away from his normal hunting grounds. He’s leaning with his back against a building, his eyes focused on his cellphone. I land silently and assume my human form. For this kill I’ll use my Calavera, consider it a warm up. For several minutes I watch his text conversation back and forth with his master. When I’ve seen enough, I press the Calavera to his neck and watch as the life gets sucked out of him. It only takes a few minutes for this once healthy adult male to be reduced down to a withered husk. I drag the husk back into the alley and lean him against the dumpster. It looks like he’s just standing there, waiting.

I take several minutes to appreciate my handiwork before I take wing and head to the slaughterhouse mansion. Several minutes pass before I am able to land in the tree from last time. Per schedule, the boss is sitting in his chair waiting for his next delivery. This should be interesting. I land in front of the double doors, shift, and then open them. For once I want to be heard, so I close the door and proceed to the stairs heading to the chamber I know he's in.

Quickly, I throw the door open before shifting back to my bird to wait for him. Several minutes pass before he gets brave and comes out. As he does I fly into the main chamber and perch on the curtain rod waiting for him. The man closes the door and returns to his chair unaware of my presence. Soundlessly I land behind his throne and return to my human form, my hands take on the talons of my raven. They’re not all that impressive length wise but the fuckers make up for it in sharpness. I peer around the back of the chair and see that he’s distracted.

Without hesitation I reach forward and rake my talons across his eye sockets rendering him blind. On the hook of one of my talons, his eyeball and ocular nerve hang. Bonus! Blood drips from my fingers as the man jumps up screaming, running blindly across the room and into the wall with a thud. Blood paints the once white walls crimson from his impact. The man lies on the floor bleeding and crying as I approach. Quickly I reach down and sink my talons into both shoulders and start dragging him to the staircase. I retract my talons and grab a hold of the man firmly. I kick the door open, breaking it off the hinges, and roll him down the flights of stairs.

The crack of bones breaking is music to my ears as he thuds down the stairs. I walk calmly and silently, following his descent into the bowels of the mansion. At the bottom he rolls into his torture chambers. Within his chamber there are assorted racks, and shackles hanging from the walls. I feel as though I’ve stepped back into medieval times. His words are mumbled but I know he's begging for his life.

Sadly for him, I don’t give a fuck. My life, my freedom, hang in the balance. If I don't collect enough souls I shall remain the slave of the witch doctor. I don’t fucking care about his pathetic life. I step over his prone bleeding and broken form and find his razor whip. I feel the weight of the whip in my hand. I give the whip several practice cracks assuring my comfort with it. Tightly, I grip the man's wrists, strap him into the rack and hoist him up off the ground. His cries and sobs echo throughout the room filling my black heart with joy. CRACK CRACK goes the whip as I rend flesh from his bones. Skin, muscle and clothing litter the floor, the blood spray paints delicate trails along the ceiling and floor. I truly do consider myself an artist when punishing the depraved. Before he’s able to take his last breath, I press the Calavera against his neck and collect his soul. Two down, more to go.

Date: October 31, 2019 All Hallows’ Eve (Halloween)

The sun is setting and the ghouls are prowling the night looking for fresh victims. I love the three days of the day of the dead. The veil is the thinnest between our world and the next. Bonus soul collections. There are several sex clubs down in the Quarter, some legal, some, let’s just say that’s where I’ll be hunting tonight. The first establishment was a bar during the prohibition era. I watch several other patrons enter and mimic their motions perfectly. The hidden door unlocks and recesses before sliding to the right to expose a passageway. I gather my leather jacket around me and head in. I stole the second victim’s whip last night. You never know when something like that may make the slaughter more fun. For tonight I’m going to try to beat my old record of ten husks before people freak out.

The first room is very busy, one hell of an orgy going on. Hmm perhaps I’ll partake of the flesh before the slaughtering begins. A woman’s scream derails that thought, and I’m back on target with my original mission. Apparently there’s a basement in this creepy old building. I head downstairs and there’s an actual fucking torture chamber. After taking a closer look I notice there’s two chambers. I move to the second one, it’s lit only by black lights. Perfect. I close and lock the door behind me.

Eighteen sinners in the room. Eighteen souls begging to be reaped. Half of the sinners are strapped to racks for their partners’ pleasure. I remove my leather jacket and expose the whip at my side. A whore in a leather catsuit approaches me, and she starts licking my lips. My hand shifts and I shove my taloned hand up through her stomach, through her diaphragm, and grip her heart. I squeeze until I feel the muscle stop twitching, her blood is flowing freely down my arm to drip on the floor. I really enjoyed watching the life drain from her eyes. With my free hand I press the Calavera to her flesh, stealing her soul. I walk her over to a pile of pillows like nothing is wrong and lay her down, hiding the gaping hole in her chest. Seventeen left to go. I return