“Consider this my electric cure,” Clara said.

“Julia’s had enough,” Silver, the dominant persona of the Hecate three, said. 

All that was left when Clara stopped her attack was a mound of smouldering ashes. She took a deep breath to find her centre and spotted the troubled werewolf. Realising the effect that her cruelty had on the other, she approached with an outstretched hand.

“I’m sorry…” Clara said. “It had to be done.”

Julia finally shirked away as though the soft touch of an open hand would burn her hand. In that moment Julia must have understood just what ‘all in’ entailed.

Unable to communicate effectively, Julia sat down like a dog would do and whimpered. Clara took that as a sign the message was received loud and clear.

“They think they are above us,” Clara said. “Pawns in their petty games.”

Clara’s eyes glowed blue. With a point of her finger, a bolt of blue energy made the air crackle. The smell of ozone permeated the air, along with burnt flesh and hair.

The sight of Clara flicking her evil switch must have something in Julia’s mind. The werewolf whimpered, and after seconds of watching a goddess turning into charcoal, she looked away entirely.

“Consider this my electric cure,” Clara said.

The werewolf transitioned onto its hind legs, poised to strike. Oh shit!  It was time for Clara to intervene.

“Julia!” When the werewolf paused, Clara added, “You don’t want to deal with the side-effects of her death…trust me.”

There was hesitation in those eyes, but the werewolf took a few steps back.  Clara broke the arrow shaft of the one that kept her pinned down. Despite the pain, she forced her wings to fold in.

“Killing a god or goddess imbues the murderer with some of their powers…and personality. Effectively, Artemis would haunt you for eternity, and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy,” Clara said.

“I said on a hunt,” Clara said in a well-practised timbre that would appear normal for those around her. If I slow down time too far, I’ll run out of breath before uttering the first syllable.

“On a hunt?” Artemis asked, before catching sight of Clara’s grin. “…You were the—(bait…)”

That was Clara’s cue. She shifted her focus onto the mass of fur and muscle converging on their position. While it had the eyes of a wolf, and ran on all fours, this was not an animal…

“Now!” Clara yelled when Artemis lumbered toward the werewolf.

“Insolent whore, you killed my sister!” Artemis yelled.

“Sisters more like,” Clara quipped. “They got what they deserved. Besides, Blue Eyes always thought you were a pretentious twat.”

Hecate was the goddess who ended Clara’s life. Those three personas would sometimes appear as distinct apparitions. Like most siblings, they were often in conflict with one another. Now they keep me company…

“If you think you can just take my bow—” Artemis said.

“I came along on a hunt…”

“The god who figured out how to draw their power from immortal souls?” Clara guessed.

“How did you—” Artemis said.

That smirk on Clara’s face gave away that this was a shot in the dark. Unlike the goddess, Clara landed a blow on her first try.

“Well, these won’t work,” Clara said and holstered the pistols.

She winced as the wing tore further and worsened the bleeding. Clara was pretty sure there was no way she was getting out of this situation unscathed.

“Insolent whore, you killed my sister!” Artemis yelled.

“Sisters more like,” Clara quipped. “They got what they deserved. Besides, Blue Eyes always thought you were a pretentious twat.”