Description: Balmathus has a serpent tongue that is plit at the tip. On the left of his back he bares three parallel stripes as if he had been skinned, but instead of scar tissue his flesh is smoothed by dark grey slates of snake-like scales. One strip of scales curls over his shoulder and thins out into a line across his collarbone and dips into his armpit. Down the length of his left side, scales appear to have taken over where skin was flayed off of his body in a staggered and disconnected pattern.

As he approached the kitchen he could see his brother’s back. His shoulder length black hair was slicked back. Smoke floated to the ceiling as he puffed on a cigarette. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a white shirt with its sleeves folded up to his elbows and his fingers that were decorated in Family jewels were curled about the slender shoulders of Cyrah as she sat at the table. Balmathus entered the room; Theodrion was not alone. He had his escorts, his guards, and Asar.

“My brother, I am glad you have joined us. Please sit,” Theodrion had not turned to face Balmathus. Instead his hand squeezed Cyrah’s shoulder while Balmathus walked around the table. He slid out the chair across from the two and sank down as the Overseer had instructed him to do. Theodrion continued once Balmathus was seated, “I expected more from you Balmathus. You have left me with no other choice.” The cigarette dangled between his lips as he spoke. His words were far more soothing and far gentler than Balmathus. Theodrion spoke gracefully and only when necessary. He removed his hand from the brown woman to take the burning stick from his lips. He flicked the ashes over Cyrah- black flakes of ash tickled her chest.

Balmathus’s dark hues had met his older brothers. An unforgiveable silence hung heavy in the air between them as Theodrion waved his hand for Asar to proceed. He dared not to let his eyes fall from his brother’s gaze. He could not look at Cyrah though he could smell the fear in the perspiration that gathered on her brow. Her fragrance of cherry-almond was killed off by the toxins that Theodrion blew from his nose.

Theodrion leaned over her shoulder to set her hand on the table. His wrought iron grip clasped her fragile wrists as her palm splayed over the wood surface. He sucked on the cigarette until the end glowed amber, before he pressed the burning tip into the back of her hand, “this one,” he marked it as if to ensure clarity.

Asar withdrew his clever. The stainless steel blade glinted beneath the light that hung from the ceiling. His large mitt enveloped hers as he forced her pinky finger to outstretch on the table. He raised his clever; the woman was sobbing now, her body trembling beneath Theodrion’s hands and her face was turned away. The blade swung down with one clean chop. A trembling, terrified scream screeched from Cyrah’s lungs. The clever scrapped across the table to push her severed finger away from the rest of her hand. Asar uncurled her grip and spread her index finger on the table. Another swing and a second digit had been lopped off of her beautiful hand. She rocked back and forth in agony, blood splattered and pooled across the table.

“Balmathus, you didn’t flinch,” Theodrion would comment. His words halted the Butcher from taking a third digit off the lovely lady’s hand.

Theodrion’s hand was steady as it held onto the wrist of the human woman. Bright red circles dotted skin from his hand to his elbow. While holding her hand still, he dragged his thumb against his bottom lip where a bead of blood had splattered. The Overseer looked at the red smear on his thumbprint before suckling on it. The trembling and crying woman was but a noise to the brother, another small detail in the kitchen.

“You didn’t flinch my brother,” Theodrion pointed out a second time, “you know a few fingers will not kill the woman. It will only disfigure her slender-” Theodrion spread her mangled hand on the table for their audience to see how lovely they had been, “hand.”

Theodrion wasn’t done. He just wanted to make sure he had his brother’s undivided attention, “where is the daughter?”

“No!” Cyrah cried out, “not my baby, please, not my baby!”

Balmathus did not answer. Without hesitation Asus swung his clever again and took a third finger from her hand. She whelped and cried but still she managed to plea for her daughter’s life.

“Not my baby! Not my baby!”

Theodrion had slid around the chair, a single grasp held the woman by her arm against the table where she bled out from her disfigurements. He reached to Asus, his palm open for the Butcher’s weapon. Asus complied and placed the bloody clever in the Overseer’s grip.

“They won’t take her,” Balmathus said.

Theodrion whipped back the weapon over his head- PLUNK.

No more screams. No whimpers, no tears. No more fingers or hands being taken away from her. The head of curls rolled on the kitchen floor. Balmathus’s sword hovered just over her left shoulder. His eyes had left his eldest brother’s gaze to stare at the headless beauty as blood sprayed and oozed out of her.

“I was only going to take her hand,” Theodrion let go of the lifeless corpse and passed the clever back to its owner.

“You don’t bring Asus to just take fingers and hands…” Balmathus took a step away from the table. The sword slithered like a black snake down the length of his extended arm until it was no more.;