As Lankin pricked the small defenceless baby while it screamed tears of agony, the maiden became restless. As she came down she heard the sound of scraping against metal as long Lanking drawn the sharply curved dagger, she screamed as loud as a fog horn and with three steps at a time rushed down the stone marble steps.
Their feet were being poisoned by the icy cold steps she couldn’t see at all in the unlit kitchen and all she could hear was the agony of her baby. Where she could almost touch the baby the blade pierced her garment and ripped through her agonised heart. She tasted her ruby red blood and fell to the rock hard floor. The smell of burnt out candles and the smell of the empty unlit fire place filled the room with the slight hint of the maiden’s perfume.
The next day, the rain pattered hard against the humongous windows of the very room the fair maiden was murdered. Unknown to the husband Lanking was still around...
Now the bodies of the husband and wife were rotten and reddish in a ditch outside the evil castle...muddy as mud...bloody as blood.