The hall filled with cheers of joy. A celebration that was for the victory of the hero, became a celebration for the beginning of the hero's life and peace.
The man enjoyed a peaceful night of ecstasy for the night. Hours passed with endless alcohol going around.
Men and women began disappearing into corners in pairs and triples.
After some time, Jeanette helped Eric to his room. The man was beyond wasted. He was almost immune to drugs, poisons and all sorts of intoxication. But he intentionally sealed away those abilities to enjoy the night to the fullest.
Funny enough, even in that state, he always made sure to not hurt her in the slightest.
Like instincts or maybe muscle memory, he took off his clothes - throwing them around though.
Her waited for her in bed as she prepared. And like a loving husband, he hugged her closely under the covers.
In a few minutes, Eric was asleep in her arms.
It felt like a peaceful night. At least, until a few hours before the dark was to clear and dawn was to come.
That night, in their slumber, a stranger broke into his room with Jeanette. Dressed in jet black costume and a mask. He had an average physique, enough to show he was agile.
The two of them were fast asleep. The unknown uninvited guest, came in through the window.
Like a thief in the night, he used a sharp object to finely carve out a hole in the class window and open it.
He snuck in, pulled a dagger from a sheath in his thigh. He snuck to them with the sharp edge of his dagger thirsty for blood.
As he halted by the bed, Jeanette turns in bed. Her eyes though slightly open, caught the moving silhouette.
The woman dodged the incoming blade that was swung down to her neck. It trusted into her pillow, piercing clean into the pillow without a sound.
Jeanette rolled and sent a kick to the man's chest, forcing him back. She reached for Eric's sword which was the closest and jumped to her feet.
Jeanette knew she couldn't draw the sword from the sheath. And if anyone held it, the sword zapped at their energy.
Thanks to being pregnant with Eric's child, she could wield it. But that was the extend of that. She had to get her own sword or dagger. The problem was that it was stored somewhere behind this assailant.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" She questioned the figure.
The man remained silent. Instead, he held up his daggers to attack.
Jeanette understood his intent. In kind, she attacked the man.
They exchanged a few blows. Blocking and slashing in full defence and offence. The man managed to cut her arm, the blood spraying in the air.
The man spun his daggers, the glimmer of his blades showed the length and what kind of weapons he had to Jeanette. But it also made it had for her to pinpoint them.
She swung the blade down and the man blocked it. Closely, he missed cutting off her head by a millimetre.
But even though she dodged it, luck wasn't on her side.
Eric's body, on reflex as he turned in bed, called the blade to his grasp. The blade leaving her hand made her loose her balance.
Within a moment of surprise, the assailant thrust down his dagger. Swiftly amd as fine as the last timw, his blade tore into her shoulder.
Blood spewed out of the wound like a glowing scarlet liquid in the dark.
The woman tried to jump back and shout for help but the man was in her face. He covered her mouth and slammed her into the ground.
Before she could notice, he had stabbed another dagger in her gut, just above her stomach.
Blood filled her mouth, spilling through the fingers of the assailant.
He pulled out the dagger from her stomach. Grabbing two of her hands, he stabbed them into the ground. She was immobilised and unable to shout for help.
Her body bled, pinned down. The pain she thought she felt flood her senses started to disappear. Her body was starting to feel cold.
She wasn't losing her sense. But she felt herself being to drift away.
"E-E-Eric..." she murmured, glancing at the bed.
A tear fell down one eye as she looked at him regardless of the man about to kill. Jeanette felt her heart ache for him.
But at this moment, she noticed something.
"Why? Why would they do this to you? After everything you did, this is the thank you you get." She screamed at the back of her mind.
Her throat was starting to be blocked by her own blood. She was choking.
"Sorry.... Eric." She let out her final words.
Jeanette noticed the state Eric was in. He wasn't sleeping because he wanted to. That wasn't natural sleep.
He was drugged. A strong drug, coupled with alcohol had forced him asleep. It must have been a strong drug, or it was meant to kill him.
Today, this night, it's the death of her and Eric.
Jeanette tried to heal her hand and free herself, but she sensed the presence of someone familiar outside.
The assailant, swiftly and as simple as possible, stabbed his dagger in her neck. In an instant, he ended her life.
The man walked to Eric, and aimed his blade at his neck. He was about to lower his dagger into the man's neck, but a voice echoed.
"No... you will not kill him." A man's voice ordered.
The man was reluctant, but still he obeyed. He turned from Eric and was about to leave through the window.
But the man from the outside left before him.
He turned to the corpse of Jeanette and walked towards it. He took off his mask, revealing the anger suppressed beneath his gritted teeth.
In the dead of night, this unknown stranger did the inhuman.
He tore the woman's body open.
.
.
.
.