Ann turned in her bed, her thin fingers reaching out to pinch her pillow, as if that assisted her at all. It was the middle of the night, and she was awoken from a deep slumber by the painful rumbling of her stomach. She wasn't often hungry. She was just gaining her womynly curves and was maybe 105 pound, fully clothed and soaking wet. So was her build. It wasn't because she ever went hungry.
She rolled to the edge of the bed, her naked toes slipping down through the cold air until they hit the floor. Her plain blue green eyes glanced out the window. It was a dark night. She almost felt claustrophobic, the black of the sky giving her the feeling that someone threw a large blanket over the house, blotting everything out. But the growling of her stomach brought her attention back to what she wanted, and Ann slipped from her bedroom, the one she shared with her two sisters, and started down the hallway.
Tonight would be a good night for the drow, she thought to herself as her little feet and sharp eyes navigated the hall, her light form bouncing as she skipped down the small back stairway that led directly to the kitchen. Ann was… a little weird. That's what her sisters called her. She was the middle child, a sweet sixteen years old, or that was the worth of her age, between a 20 year old sister and a 15 year old sister. And she was 'weird' because she found herself interested in what her father called 'morbid things'. Drow and the underdark caught her fancy, the look of an orc, what it must feel like to be undead. Ann had learned that this kind of knowledge seeking was considered 'occult'. And she rather preferred that over morbid. Her father always excused her strange interests, saying that they were a product of her being her mother's child. Ann did not have the same mother as her other two siblings. Her mother had been an adventurer.
She dug through the kitchen, finding the bread and cheese. That would be more than enough for her right now. She probably wouldn't be hungry for breakfast, actually. She cut both and filled a glass of water, then looked out into the night. For as eerie as it was, the pitch black night was also romantic. Of all the things she tried to study, Ann favored the idea of drow and the underdark. At times, she wished she could meet one, even if she knew it would likely end up in her being killed. And it was that same wistful line of thought that led her outside tonight, walking the garden path with her bread and water. It was a chilly night, to be sure, and she should probably have been wearing more than the thin, short nightgown and her naked feet. But it would just make crawling back into her warm bed that much more inviting. So she walked for what seemed like a long time, though the darkness of night was still thick when she reentered the kitchen.
A noise from the large, cool storage room caught her attention as she placed her cup back on the counter. Someone was banging around in there. Most probably the cook, digging out what she planned to prepare for today's meals. Actually, Ann had been hungering for pork as of late, and she thought maybe the cook would be open to a small suggestion. Her family was well off. The land had been in her father's family for many generations. And he'd come under a certain amount of power from the local lord and lady. Even aware of that, Ann made it a point to be considerate and polite. She understood that, of the family, her kindnesses allowed her certain privileges that her sisters, both a bit rude and demanding, didn't get. And a friendly protocol with everyone from the cook to the maids was one of those benefits.
"Chef Cecily?" She pushed open the large but light metal door, letting it sway shut softly behind her. The banging continued somewhere ahead of her. And it was almost as if the chef hadn't heard her enter yet. However, even if she hadn't heard her, she should have seen the change in lighting. The walk-in meat cooler was as pitch black as had been the outdoors. And that was unusual. Of her family and the hired hands, only Ann had any ability to see in the dark. So she understood immediately that there should at least be an oil lamp somewhere in here.
The banging got louder. Something wasn't quite right. Chef Cecily should not need to work that hard to get the meat down from its hook. And- it didn't sound like meat anyway. It sounded like someone was beating on the walls. "Cic…" There was a terrible cracking, drowning out the rest of the name. And the furthest wall was suddenly brought in, the stone shattering like so much broken glass. Torches lit the room and guards began to pour in. And, at the same time, Ann realized just who was actually in here.
A large underdark creature, something she'd only managed to find in books until now, stood in a pool of congealing blood. Half a human arm held in its clawed grip, most of it eaten. There was a glimmer of silver on one of the fingers, and Ann realized that Chef Cecily had, indeed, been here. The gruesome site forced an unfortunate squeal from her, something that attracted the attention of both guards and monster. Ann made such a lovely target. So thin, so tiny. She'd never held a sword in her life. The underdark monster came barreling toward her. And she couldn't move. All the time she'd wondered what it would be like to see one, and now she knew it was the most horrifying experience of her life.
A strong arm snatched her away, probably right out of the creature's drooling jaws. Ann realized that she was being carried away. A guard had her over his shoulder, shouting back to his comrades. She couldn't make out much, but she heard something about 'it's the good one' and 'hide' before she was unceremoniously shoved into a closet. "Sorry, Lady Ann. Stay here. I'll come back when it's over." He paused to look her over. Ann hadn't expected to be picked up and thrown into a closet tonight. And the fragility of her nighttime attire probably looked about as inappropriate as his pause and glance. And, for a moment, Ann didn't know if she was more afraid of what was going on outside of the closet, or of what that guard might want in return for coming back for her later.
He shut the door, the noise of the lock seemed hollow in the room. And Ann was left staring at the door, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes wide. Was it really that dark out tonight, so pitch black that an underdark creature wandered out of his caverns and managed to infiltrate her home? Why? Why would any underdark creature do such a thing? It was usually a pet to drow. If it was here, then…
Her head snapped up as a chorus of screams lit the air. Up until then, even for the breaking of walls by the guards, the night had been silent. Now, suddenly, it was filled with the most terrible of cries. Inhuman howls that left her little body quaking. Her thin fingers pressed flat against the door as she reached for the handle. Whatever was happening, she might be in more trouble here. But the metal clasp was locked soundly and- hot.