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Trina perched on the edge of the fence and stared out at the fuss that her father's men were making as they began to set up a large platform that sported newly cut timber to form a system of arms that stood over it as silent sentinels. They worked swiftly and efficiently as the gelded males heaved up the large timbers and the more industrious young colts hammered them into place. Their hides glistened with sweat as they came in brilliant whites, piebalds, palominos and all the colors of the earthly rainbow. They were lithe creatures with their bodies toned with hard work in the field and manual labor. They were collared and tagged with her family's mark as they kept a wary eye on her avid expression. The unicorns were the backbone of their civilization, or so her father enjoyed telling her.

Nightmares had ruled the world since anyone could remember. The unicorns served the nightmares. It was their place in life as inferior creatures to be raised in carefully maintained farms and sent out to earn their place in the world. Her father had bought the geldings years ago, but they were still young. Each one walked on two hooves so that they almost looked like a person, almost, but she knew better. She had been told since she was able to walk that she was different they were. She had been told of the great wars in which the unicorns had nearly slaughtered her kind and now they served their penance by being their slaves. Every filly and colt knew the stories and she couldn't help but smile at the idea of a unicorn ever being fearsome in battle.

Her father, the Lord Ansar, had educated her carefully on their history and lately he had been more adamant about it. The unicorns were less. They were animals. They were beasts. They were not to be abused. They were to be treated as the gifts they were as they helped run their society and sat in roles that allowed the nightmares to rule the world. They were the life force of the nightmares. Her kind couldn't reproduce without them, at least that was what she had been told. Every filly and colt born was either sired or damed by a unicorn. Without them, the nightmares would be no more and their great cities would tumble. The mixing of the genes produced the foals that would one day be born to rule as fearlessly as their parents. That was why they should be honored for the gifts they gave, though never allowed a place in society that would let them be equals. The nightmares had learned that they had to keep them under their thumbs.

Her mother was a unicorn, she had always known that, but she had never called the beast mother. She only had one parent and that was the great dark stallion who oversaw her education. Trina twitched her tail back and forth restlessly and turned to look at the glistening white appendage. She was milky white from the tip of her nose to the bottom of her hooves. Her eyes a clear and brilliant green that was as beautiful as new spring grass. And she hated it. Her father had told her many times that all of the nightmare foals were born in such a way, but only on their thirteenth birthday would they be stained the black of their kind. It still rankled her that she looked like a unicorn. It was only her lack of a horn that made her stand apart.

She watched one of the geldings, a bay who was hauling up the rope to pull through the pulley system. His horn glistened with hints of bronze as it rose up above his head, but ended in a flat dull cap of steel half way up. Each of the unicorns had had their horns blunted when they were leaving colt hood and it was time to geld them. It kept them from using them as weapons on the off chance being gelded didn't remove the violent hormones. Even the mares had their horns blunted, though they were never used for manual labor. The place of a mare was within a harem or on a farm to pass on her genes. The lucky ones were bred by the nightmares and might claim respect and even adoration. The unlucky ones were strapped into stalls and forcibly bred and foaled until they could carry no more. Even when they were between young ones their milk was harvested.

"You are thinking to hard, Trina." Her father's rumbling voice disrupted her thoughts and the filly glanced up to find his hand moving to rest on her shoulder. "It will soon be time to prepare your birthing day ceremony and watching the beasts work won't make it come any faster."

"I know, Father. Only, I have not seen..." She trailed off and felt her cheek suffuse in a blush as his fingers caressed the back of her neck. "I am anxious."

"As well you should be. Today is a day that will live in your mind forever and one that will be the turning point to adulthood. You are going to never again see the white of this coat.." His hand moved to caress down her arm until she trembled slightly. "Nor feel the stirrings of that half of you. They will be quieted forever."

Trina twitched her tail behind her, the lion like tuft twisting about as she drew in a breath and let it out again. The coming of age ceremony had been whispered about in her classrooms and told in wickedly knowing voices by the older fillies. She knew part of it and that part filled her with mingled dread and exhilaration both. She would become a nightmare in truth in a way that would separate her from her mixed genes and settle her hooves firmly upon the same path her father walked. She swallowed and tilted her head up to look at the blood red eyes that lingered on her so tenderly. His large hand moved to cup the side of her cheek.

"Come, my little one. We need to get you ready as the rest is prepared. Soon you will be everything you were meant to be." He murmured and the heat that blossomed in his eyes sent a tremor down her back. She was ready, she was so very ready.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The mare stood in the room and trembled from nose to tail as the heavy chain yanked at the halter that had been fastened on her head. She strained against it and let out a shrill cry as the dark forms surrounded her loosely and formed a hunting pack that made her strange green and purple eyes show the whites. She half reared, but the chain hauled her down as a rope was slipped along one of her hocks. The yank slammed her down onto the ground with a thud as the breath left her body. Her sides gleamed with good healthy until the tans and darker browns shown like polished wood and the white was new fallen snow. She twisted and the striped legs yanked and pulled against the ropes that were secured around her front legs and locked them together.

"This is the one?" One of the nightmares stepped forward and hauled her head up by the halter. The shuddered at the touch of his rough fingers against her cheek as he examined her studded right here.

"894. Lord Ansar said we needed to get her ready." One of the other nightmares moved his hand forward and tugged her ear as well. "I've got a few of the colts on shaving duty today and we'll take care of the horn and tail personally."

The scent of the young stallions filled her nose and brought no comfort. Her life had been surrounded by the male scent that promised pleasure as often as it promised pain and humiliation. From the time she had been dropped from her dam she had known the feel of leather on her head and when she tasted the sweet thick milk she had felt the sting of the bolt marking her ear. She had lived every moment of her days on a small farm that bred unicorns for a dark purpose that she had no conception of. She only knew that she had been born with the unforgivable sin of having four legs instead of two and her uses her limited. She didn't understand what they were doing, only that their rough touch was the closest thing to comfort and a caress that she had ever known.

She blew out a hot blast of air as the chain on her halter was forced through a pulley and the lead grew taut so that her head was forced to raise up at a painful angle. The sound of so many around her set her to shaking as a long legged white colt came forward and pulled at her mane. The scent of him was young and sweetly of milk still, but also the edge of excitement. She didn't dare try to twist her head free. The moment she did they'd hurt her. The creatures knew how to hurt her in the worst possible ways without even marring her hide. So she held still as the metallic hiss of the scissors worked just between her flattened ears and the glorious spill of chestnut mane started to tumble down in strands. The colt's hands were rough as they tugged the hairs out and clipped them down so close that the blades scraped against the skin and scored it.

"Don't draw blood." One of the male's rumbled and she could almost taste his lust. "She's to be delivered traditionally dressed to Lord Ansar. He has had her on his docket for the last thirteen years and we've been careful."

"Aye, look at that coat and a lovely layer of fat as well." A hand smoothed down her tan side and touched just along her ribs. "She's had enough sweet feed to bring it out into the fat I should think."

The mare flinched as the scissors scored her again and she could feel the colts trembling hands against her neck. She knew his kind, she had dropped his kind before in the dark stall where she was hobbled and kept. A place where stallions such as these had come to take pleasure in her heat and leave her to bear the results. One in three foals were taken away from her because they had two legs, her four legged daughters and sons were lost forever. Her knowledge of the past tinged with strangeness and despair as she was milked, bred and caressed. Her hooves were always neatly trimmed and as long as she behaved they offered her rough affection, but today was different. Today she felt the sun for the first time since she had been a filly and today she smell the grass somewhere near by. She couldn't reach it.

Her mane fell down in a pile next to her shoulder and scattered against the tiles. Her neck naked of that flowing spill of hair until it felt almost cold without the covering. The fingers that stroked down her side traced the dark stripe that ran along the underside of her belly and moved up to her tail. She strained her head back to see the stallion pulling the long appendage out to be pinned down beneath one of the colt's hooves so she couldn't twitch it. Another of the youngsters came running with a bundle wrapped in leather and a bucket of water that splashed against the clean floor. The stallion barely glanced up at her as he concentrated on her tail. Her body tensed as the fingers walked the length of her tail and made a mark where the bones were connected.

"Sweep up the mane, we need to keep this area clean. Ruth, tend to her horn." The stallion at her tail didn't even look up as he commanded the other nightmare.

The unicorn mare trembled and then relaxed as she felt hot soapy water splashing down onto the base of her tail. The stallion's agile fingers began to wash around the area that he'd marked and slipped beneath it with a deft touch. The sweet scent of soap laden with herbs teased her nose and made her flare her nostrils wide. It smelled of rosemary, a sharp scent that made her long for the dinner she had been denied this morning. She tilted her head back to watch the lather grow before the thick fingers dropped down and started to scrub between her haunches. The roughened touch softened by the soap as the digits worked along the puckered anal ring and the scattering of hair along either side. Her muscles tensed and relaxed when more nearly hot water was dumped out to clean her and the fingers began to slip down to knead against the soft tear shaped mound.

Her head was pulled away from her inspection of the strange process by the other adult nightmare and the grip on her horn. It should have rose up as a gleaming spire above her head, but it was shortened and cut off half way before it reached full growth. The metal cap blunted it and the male pulled her head down by the horn to rub around the base. She whickered out nervously at the attention and flattened her ears along her shorn head. Her horn was often trimmed and cut when it had grown too long. The stallion seemed intent on his job as he measured the base of her horn with his finger and murmured something under his breath that she couldn't understand. Her nervousness only distracted by water being dumped on her haunches before a hard strap tightened around the base of her tail. It pinched the skin and made her jerk her hind legs with the urge to kick.

The tightness was only a torture for a handful of breaths before something wrong happened. She heard a metallic scrape and pain erupted along her spine. She squealed out and one of the colts leapt down to pin her legs as a glittering blade neatly cut into the tan flesh of her tail. It grated against her bone and wedged down between the linked joints that formed the leonine length. Her hips trembled as she could smell the hot blood mingled with the hotter scents of males on the air. The blade shoved down harder and bit between the joints until she heard a sickening crack that could be felt along every inch of her spine. Her legs strained and scrabbled against the ground while she shrieked out her pain and terror. Her head twisted against the halter, but she was given no reprieve or consolation.

The pain grew before she felt something popping free and the stallion bark out an order for cloth. The ache throbbed along her haunches and left her panting shallowly as sweat showed along the curve of her chest and stomach. Something slapped near the floor to her left and the mare strained her head to see the lifeless coil of her tail dropped to the ground as carelessly as a bit of hay. The stump oozed crimson blood onto the ground as the pain only grew when something was shoved against the two inch stump that jutted above her rump cheeks. Her breath came out in short pants, her eyes rimmed white as the stallion behind her began to carefully sew off the flesh on the tail stump. He didn't even bother to give her any comfort as she began to shudder.

Her eyes flickered to movement and the stallion who had been inspecting her horn. His hands held a set of clamps with wickedly curved blades meant to sheering through horn and hoof. One of the trembling young colts came to her head and gripped her just under the halter so that her shorn neck arched and she was lowering her nose to the ground. She could smell the youthful arousal at the scent of blood and fear, which gave her no comfort as her nose was forced in close against him. She squealed and tried to kick, but the hold remained firm until she felt the cold kiss of metal against the base of her horn. The base, not the middle. It scraped against the smooth fur of her tan forehead before biting down into the horn itself. They were taking her horn!

~ ~ * ~ ~

Trina trembled and stood at the edge of the completed platform and tried not to feel as anxious as she felt. Her young white form was completely nude as befitted the day and her father had lovingly worked glistening sweet scented oil over her hide. It gleamed and caught the light as she moved a hand up to brush it nervously against where her main had been braided back tight to her head. It had been worked over with dark black silk to weave in and out of the white, a hint of what it would become in just a short span of time. It almost looked as if it had been shorn off, but that was the intention. It needed to be out of the way for her ceremony to become a true nightmare. A nightmare like her father.

The thought of him made her look over to see him as he spoke quietly with the stallion who had come from the Farm. They were going to bring the sacrifice here where it could be rigged up for the ceremony. She swallowed and her tongue felt dry as she looked down at the soft mound of her breast and the silver chain that hung there. A slender deadly knife was sheathed in pure silver. It was barely as long her hand and needle thin. It didn't have to be long for what it was designed to do, but it had to be sharp enough to get there. Her stomach turned with the excited dread she had felt all day as she had been bathed, lectured and prepared for her coming of age. It was the biggest day of her life and she couldn't stop feeling a lump in her throat.

"Bring her up!" Lord Ansar's voice was a low whicker as he stepped away from the stallion he had been talking to and turned back to the platform. "Excited, my little one?" He murmured as he came closer to her.

"Yes. And nervous. What if I-" She started and his dark finger brushed her lip gently.

"You will do as our kind has always done, Trina. This day was set down the day you came into the world and on that day I ensured the most fitting part of our ceremony." He leaned down and his soft lips brushed her oiled cheek making her shiver.

Trina leaned into the kiss, but only for a moment. The sound of hooves came from the opening to the paddock and her mouth went dry as she watched the unicorn led to them. "She's perfect, Father." She whispered as she got her first glimpse.

The hide was a rich tan color, bisected along the edges with a darker rich chocolate brown that chased along the upper portion of the white belly. Someone had washed and groomed her thoroughly to make the white look so lovely against the dark tan. A lightning bolt of darker brown ran alongside either side of the muzzle and led up to a set of strange eyes. Purple around the edges and emerald green around the slit pupil. The unicorn's head no longer boasted a horn, but a gem the same rich purple as the rims of her eyes had been set into silver where the horn had once grown. Her mane had been shaved away leaving her neck bare as she was herded up towards the platform. Her striped legs lifted and set down in high steps as she whickered nervously and the rim of white flashed around her eyes.

Trina spotted her haunches and saw the oils that had been worked along the inner curve and glistened at the soft rise of her udder and the teats had been brushed with a hint of silver dust. The tail was docked and crowned with a silver cup that was etched over with Lord Ansar's name and coat of arms upon it. The unicorn was beautiful in the way of her species and glorious in the fearful tremors that ran down her sides as she was led up the gangplank to the platform itself. Her eyes rolled and nostrils spread while the creature looked around franticly and the geldings came forward to pull down the ropes that had been hung the day before.

"As you were birthed from her for your first life, you will come forth from her for your second." Her father murmured in her ear. "Her blood will make you what you were meant to be. Her blood and my body."

A tremor passed through her at those words. Her coming of age ceremony was to be traditional in all ways possible. Some had grown more modern and offered a slice of freshly killed unicorn in a more sedate setting such as their father's bedroom. A nightmare was only truly made when they were initiated into their darker sides. As a foal she was never allowed a scrap of unicorn flesh. It was forbidden. They were not to taste them cooked or prepared or in any other form until they reached the age of thirteen and were ready to step away from their youth and into the darkness. Then they would be offered the first bit of flesh raw and their virginity taken by a nightmare, preferably a parent. But the ways had grown divided as to the means to do it.

The more modern people argued that they shouldn't force their foals to slaughter a unicorn. It had become chic to allow a foal to pick out a unicorn and have it prepared raw in a lavish form at their coming of age ceremony. It was all done discreetly and the deflowering done behind closed doors entirely. Her father had never believed in it. He had lectured her that they were creatures created from darkness and he would not dishonor his daughter by not allowing her to experience all that she was, all that she could be. All that she was made to be. She would cut out the heart of the unicorn, her birth mother, and kill the creature herself. Her body would be coated in the rich life's blood and it would be her part to eat the heart. The first bite out of the feast.

It was supposed to rouse her blood lust, her dark blood and bring it to the fore ground. It was supposed to make her something other then a half breed unicorn and into a nightmare. The nightmares that had been gathered together to witness the slaughter would be able to feast once she had taken that first bite of flesh, but supposedly she would not want anymore. Not when her sire took her and deflowered her. His seed being the first to spill into her as he took the last bit of innocence from her body. She stared down at her sugar white coat and shivered. It would not be white for longer and soon, soon she would be exactly what she was born to be.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The unicorn mare knew only fear, knew only terror as her body was led up the gang plank. The ache of her tail was secondary to the scent of blood on the air and lust. The thick stallion lust that she never picked up unless she was in heat, but now she was dragging it in as she was pulled up to stand on the freshly built platform. Her eyes rolled and saw a large nude stallion standing beside a small glistening filly. The white coat was oiled and almost glowing under the noon day sun while she stood beside the elder. The scent of lust came from them both and made her want to throw back, but the bonds held her still as her own kind scrambled around her. It was her own kind that walked on two legs and carried no male musk about them. The only comfort was the heat of the sun beating down at her and the scent of fresh grass. It had been so long since she had enjoyed either of them and she drew in great lungfuls of them as the geldings began to move beneath and around her.

A strap was pulled just beneath the underside of her chest and a broad bit of cloth laid down so that the ropes didn't bite. Another strap moved beneath her belly and just in front of her udder while she shivered nervously as the geldings hooked leads onto either side of her halter. The creak of the rope and the sound of the geldings as they moved and pulled kept her occupied. Her head was forced up as the pulleys worked and raised it painfully high and the rest of her body was just lightly supported. Her hooves stood firmly on the ground, but she could lift them and let the slings take her weight if she wanted to.

She was aware of the filly more then she was of the gathered dark nightmares. The youngster stood apart by her coat and by the nervous scent of her as she fidgeted beside the larger one. The mare's eyes were caught on the glint of silver on her chest. The blade caught the sunlight as much as it did her oiled coat that showed off every soft forming curve of her young body. The sweet scent of the oil tickled the unicorn mare's nose as the girl stepped forward nervously to the sound of drums that began to roll over the pasture.

"Trinna Ansar, daughter of Lord Alum Ansar, you have been raised with our traditions and know the way of our kind." A grey muzzled stallion spoke as the pulley's began to lift her higher into the air. The mare twisted slightly and drew in a shivering breath as her hooves lifted from the ground.

"When we came to this world the unicorns ran free and wild through out it. They were a proud and canny race of warriors that would not tolerate darkness such as ours to touch their beautiful land. We came as refugees and we begged for them to allow us to find a place here where we might heal our own warriors and return to our lands to claim our home back. They refused and drove us into the forests and mountains with their hubris. We lost our world, but we still remained here and in secret we started to heal and grow strong again. Our numbers did not increase without the magic of our world, but we were born as fighters and had darkness to aid us when we began to try and carve a place for ourselves." A hand touched her flank and made her flinch.

"The unicorns fought well and in the end we defeated them. They are our honored foes and we allow them to live that they might repair the damage they did to our kind. They will serve us and help recreate our cities and towns. They will allow us to have foals of our own as we use their connection to this world. They will be prized as servants within our harems as they learn to love us and lust for us. Many will willingly bare their throat for the blade if only they are given the choice of their ending. The stallion will offer them pleasure before the end comes and they will go peacefully. We do not cause harm where we can spare it, for they serve us because they desire to, because they must. Because they are ours." The unicorn mare flinched slightly and turned her head to see the stallion resting a hand on his daughter's shoulder as they listened to the grey beard.

"This mare gave birth to you. She is not your mother, nor will she ever be. Those that go on four legs have long been held on the Farms we have started for they breed our kind truer than most and in the end they are given up to us rather than be lost in the earth. They will be honored and their blood not spent shamelessly within the slaughter house, but given over to the young that they might finish the birth that they started so long ago. This is your sacrifice, your coming of age, your trial. This unicorn is yours and ours. Your knife will strike first and strike true to give her swift death. And your fangs be the first to sink into her flesh that you know the taste of her heart on your tongue and then the seed of your sire within you."

The unicorn mare could smell the hot lust scents on the air and she kicked against the restraints, but she couldn't kick hard enough. Her body was drawn in the air by the slings beneath her stomach and the one beneath her chin strained her head back at a painful angle. The back of her head nearly touched her spine while her breath wheezed out from the compression on her windpipe. She tried to kick out again and something looped around her hock. A band tightened down around it and forced the hoof to tuck up beneath her before a second wrapped around her other foreleg.

The geldings moved around furtively and with their heads down. Their blunted horns aimed towards the ground as they seemed to try to keep from drawing the attention of the nightmares. Their lust and hunger was up and the air of civilization was falling away from them. The unicorn mare was bound with her legs pushed up tight beneath her and painfully wrapped around with twine. The ropes creaked holding her as if she were reclining in midair. Only the strap that forced her head back in that painful angle ruined the effect. Her nostrils shivered as a soft oiled hand rested right on her chest and left a mark there. The girl had come forward.

"Strike fast and true, Trina. Put a swift end to her life in honor of the foe she once was."

The oiled fingers brushed along her chest and the mare laid her ears back at the rattle of the chain. Her body locked in place as the inevitable chain of events began to roll. The fingers reached up and rubbed her neck where it was drawn taut and bared to her executioner. Her body wrapped in ropes and leather until she couldn't defend herself even if she truly realized what was happening. Her eyes flashed open wide when something cold and slender touched her chest and trailed down beneath the fingers. It was almost pleasurable and the unicorn mare shivered her skin as if trying to rid herself of the touch as if it were a fly.

The touch as light as a butterflies kiss, until the shove tore through her vulnerable chest and pierced past the muscles. The filly's cry was high and wild as she drove the blade home and threw her weight against the deceptively slender hilt. The impact bruised the flesh around the entry wound and left the mare jerking in her bonds. The swift harsh impact barely gave her time to scream her death scream as the hot thick red blood welled up around the hilt of the blade that impaled her. The magic already spilling from her as the filly claimed her birth right.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Trina's hand was coated in thick tacky blood as she held the heart like a treat and the blood oozed out melting along her wrist. Her eyes were wild with the hot scent of blood and death on the air as the slaughtered unicorn swung lifeless in the bonds. The chest sliced open so that she could retrieve her mother's hart. Her chest splattered with the blood that rolled down along the softly forming breasts and along the upper portion of her stomach as the world around her hummed with magic and energy that came from the sacrifice. She could feel the throng behind her waiting, waiting and watching for her to take the first bite. Waiting and watching for her to prove herself the daughter of a night mare. The heart was so large in her hand and glistened with the darkest crimson blood. She wanted it. She needed it.

Hot. Hot and coppery as her fangs sank into hot flesh and for the first time felt the meat slicing away and tearing along her tongue. She clamped her jaws down and sheered away the meat in pure visceral pleasure as the touch muscle nearly melted on her tongue. The hot scent of it flooding her muzzle as she licked the edges of her lips like a foal trying to stop the sticky sweet ice cream from escaping her mouth. She swallowed the hot taste of the blood down her throat before the meat slid down after. Her neck rippled as she passed the meat downwards before snapping out to take another bite. Her snarl a high pitched whinny as her teeth tore through the heart again to claim her prize. All she knew was blood. All she was was death. Death and heat combined until her eyes started to bleed a deep a red as the mare's gaping chest.

Around her the darkling throng stirred. Their appetites roused by the mare. They normally cooked their meat, but not today. Today was something ancient and primal. Today they remembered why they had sharp curved fangs instead of blunt teeth. Today they remembered why their shrieking screams could drive animals mad and what hot blood tasted like rolling down the throat. Trina was a part of that throng. Her heart beat in time with them as she pulled the last slippery bit of hot flesh into her mouth and swallowed it down. Her throat rippled as she felt the heat flashing through her and stared down at her own bloody chest and body.

A pair of dark hands wrapped round her and pulling her back. The movement wasn't tender, wasn't kind, wasn't loving, it was an embrace of a roused predator who only barely held back the urge to rip into her soft throat. Her father's hands gripped her hips as she was pulled upwards against his back and chest. Her eyes snapped open and she let out the screaming cry of her kind, wild and wailing as his hands closed around her and his large nose slipped over her own. His fangs glistened in the light as his long tapered tongue flicked out to uncoil along the underside of her chin. It scraped the blood from her muzzle as if going after a treat and beneath her she felt the heavy belled tip of his cock pushing up against the soft pink lips of her virgin mound.

It was blood and darkness. It was heat and need. The cock drove upwards as she screamed out and felt him tearing into her body. Her walls spreading open wide about him and clamping down as he made his claim. Her virginity torn open as she clenched around the shaft the created her and rocked her hips back. Her head tucked down as she was forced up against one of the posts and the hips slowly rolled back and forth. The thickened tip dragged deeper forcing to stretch open wider as a dribble of blood escaped from around him, mingled with her own flushed need as she was claimed. Her hips jerking upwards while they were passed by the throng of nightmares. Their red eyes flashing in the light as they came to claim the unicorn she had sacrificed.

In the heat of the feast. The tearing of dark red meat from bone, the slice of knives through the curve of the haunches and the melting taste of sweet flesh the stallion screamed. His daughter kicked and shrieked out again as her body was claimed with a hot eruption of seed inside of her untried womb. The thick heat and magic roiled through her form and teased what she had been born with. The darkness was stroked and teased like a rousing cat until her walls clamped down around the dark pulsing flesh and the light began to leech away from her. It was swallowed, claimed, eaten, consumed by dark midnight fur that rolled over her. The nightmare awakened in the youngster as she let loose a final wild call in the darkening evening. It was her's by birthright, by flesh, by magic and by seed. She was the nightmare.