Croesus' Dagger

I’m ready to chuck this damn body. Its chi had been strangely tainted when I acquired it, the result being more than the normal number of dead in my wake. Usually I’m more subtle than that. It was long past time for a change.

I pulled Croesus’ dagger from its sheath at my back, and marveled at the ancient blade. It was tee-shaped, the handle cross-wise to the blade, and was perfect for a thrusting attack. It was all black except for the two silver ends of the handle and the razor honed cutting edges. An ornate letter “C” was engraved on each side of the handle. I gripped the dagger in my right hand and raised it to the dark sky. As I strummed my chi the blade began to glow an incandescent blue, searching for a resonance. Someone with a resonance was far easier to subsume, and I hated any extra work. A faint echo several miles distant caught my attention. I put the still glowing blade back into its sheath, and followed its pull.

As I crested a hill, a shallow farmed valley opened up before me. In the distance a small village of perhaps half a dozen rudimentary dwellings nestled up to a river. Candle light flickered in the windows, and smoke rose from several chimneys. Somewhere near that village the resonance beckoned to me. It didn’t matter whether the new host was rich or poor; I’d had many of both. What I liked was flavor.

The path forked as I neared the village, and the now thrumming blade led me along the path toward the river. Ahead of me rose a hillock, but I was close enough to see the man’s chi even through the intervening terrain. Purple, the color of royalty. Plenty of flavor to be had with this one.

As I approached, a chilly breeze came off the water, raising goose bumps on my skin. The man sat at the end of a rough hewn bench overlooking the river. He wore a dark cloak, and held a knobby cane across his lap. From the opposite end of the bench I said, “Is this seat taken?”

He slowly rotated his head in my direction, and smiled. “Of course not, young lady. Please, do sit down.”

I sat. “Pretty late to be out, mister. I hear tell of monsters in these parts.”

He turned to look at me, the moon reflecting off his shiny teeth. “Do tell.”

“The story I heard was three dead in just this past month. All found not far from here.”

He grinned. “Perhaps you’re the one who should be worried. A nice looking young lady such as yourself. Perhaps I’m the monster you speak of.”

“Now that would be an interesting change of pace. Are you really a monster?”

“Depends on your definition, but I’ve been called that, yes.”

I smiled as I pulled Croesus’ dagger from its sheath, and held it up. It visibly pulsed with ancient magic that spoke of a good chi match. His eyes locked on the blade as I slid down the bench toward him. I said, “Let’s find out, shall we?”

With a flick of my wrist I reversed the blade and plunged it deep into my own neck. My severed artery belched a thick stream of blood across my dress. I gasped. This was always the worst part, but I’d had plenty of practice over the past two-hundred thirty years. My head lolled, and as I blacked out my chi wrenched free of the girl’s body, travelling out through the dagger in search of a new host to subsume. But something was wrong.

The man loomed large before me, his purple chi now brighter than the sun. Brighter than mine by far. As I thrashed about to escape he said, “It’s pointless to struggle, Miranda. After all, there’s no one else nearby, and you’re using the blade you stole from me.” Recognition and fear washed through me - Croesus had found me at long last. He sucked me in and belched in satisfaction, as though having just eaten a fine meal. I grabbed for his chi, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t expect a counterattack. Instead I fell straight into a bottomless black prison.

A booming laughter echoed in the darkness. He said, “Welcome home, Miranda. It’s good to have you back. I’ve really missed tormenting you.”