"But one soul lies anxious, wide awake," the woman sang, dressed in nothing but her bare skin as she sat in front of the red finish dresser, "fearing all manner of ghouls, hags, and wraiths." 

The woman bayed with elegance and brilliant charm. Her skin of porcelain and lips of cherry. She continued to hum, combing through her flowing black hair while staring back at the hag with a sickly grey complexion in the mirror. Then there was a knock on the door. She stopped.

"... Who dares interrupt me?" she said, gentle and relaxed as she spoke of it.

"L-Lady Beatrice, I have come to speak with you about an important matter," said the person on the other side of the door with a hoarse, trembling voice.

Beatrice gave a moment before she proceeded to comb her hair once more. "If it isn't much of an importance, then let me be," she said.

"I-it's about the ghouls, madam."

Beatrice paused.

 "T-there... There had been a problem with one of t-them."

Beatrice slammed her comb down. She seethed, her slender fingers curling and her hands balling into fists. She paused before she stood, then slipped on a silky red robe and matching shoes. She sauntered towards the door, ignoring the corpse of a withered man lying motionless with a wide-open mouth and eyes near her bed. His complexion was pale and purple, his gaze dead and grey.

Beatrice swung the door open and stared at the shorter man with huge front teeth and rodent ears. "What happened?" she asked.

Ratt fidgeted. "O-one of Fargus's pets had escaped, M-milady."

"Escaped?"

"Y-yes, milady," he answered. 

"... Lead me to Fargus," Beatrice ordered.

Ratt's scant feet bobbed and scurried as he walked, hurrying to keep up with the vampire's pace. They walked through long halls, down a spiraling staircase, and towards the cavern's deep dungeon. Clanking metals and beating hammers resonated from within, and as they went even further, evidence of wails and spine-chilling roars began to accompany the walls. Beatrice creased her face against the stirring odor. 

"What happened?" she stated loudly.

The man, who Beatrice was fixated on, snapped around, eyes bulging out of his skull. "L-l-lady Beatrice! T-the, uh, the—" his trembling worsened.

One of the guards prodded the man. "Speak clearly. It is the Lady is speaking to you."

"Shhh," Beatrice uttered, holding a finger on her lips.

"Apologies, my lady," the guard said, bowing and stepping back.

"Now..." Beatrice studied Fargus, whose eyes averted away from hers. "What happened?" 

Fargus was trembling. "O-o-one... of the beast e-e-escaped, m-my Lady," he replied.

"Escaped?" Beatrice tilted her head. She stared intently at Fargus, who fidgeted with his hands. Beatrice paused and sighed through her nose. She then circled him slowly. "You are in charge of these varmints, are you not, Fargus?"

"Y-y-yes... yes, I am, my lady."

"Then that only means... you are to be held liable, are you not?" she said.

"I am s-s-sorry, L-lady Beatrice! B-b-but the c-chain have already rusted after a long time! And there weren't a-a-any ways to have it changed with that b-b-beast lurking beneath its hold—"

"Did you not execute any other solutions for it then?"

"I-I-I did, my lady. B-b-but—"

Beatrice sighed. She tilted her head. "Your incompetence... is quite troubling."

"I-I-I'm sorry, L-lady Beatrice," Fargus gestured, "b-but do not worry! I w-will make sure that t-there won't be another—"

Beatrice emitted a demonic shriek, her face contorting to a rotten complexion and her mouth gaping inhumanely wide as large needle-like teeth protruded from her purplish gums. Fargus screamed, and he was about to run away when the hag's slender and now longer hand grabbed him by the head. His squeals then turned into a rambling gurgle when her mouth dug down on his throat.

Fargus flailed. But his resistance slowly withered at each second. He choked and gurgled on his blood, his vision blurring, his senses beginning to feel light. Then his last breath was expelled out of his lips, and it was life that had left him instead.

Beatrice dropped the body. Her tongue stretched out as she spun it around her bloodied lips. Her face reverted to a veneer of aristocratic beauty.

"... There really won't be any," Beatrice breathed out as she stared at the far away gazing Fargus.

"Such a frightening woman you are, Lady Beatrice."

Beatrice blinked. She looked over her shoulder and saw an exquisitely clothed man smirking at her. He wore a brown fedora hat and held a lion embellished wood and gold cane in his right hand. 

Beatrice smiled. "A pleasure to see you, King Marius."