I must find a balance and I cannot forgive or forget what you did to him."

Robbie was now desperately trying to strain his muscle but his body wouldn't move. His heart had begun to slow and he felt his lungs beginning to freeze in his chest.

“But alas, I must leave you. I have to see your two friends before the night is out and then my love awaits me. We're going dancing. I like dancing very much." Her eyes took on a dreamy gleam as she gave Robbie a malicious smile and planted a small kiss upon his brow that began the process of spreading her ice over his mind.

“But I fear I am still

Winter...and Winter can be cruel."

With a parting pat in amidst the crisp strands of his frozen hair, Lady

Winter walked passed the one responsible for William's murder and flicked off the Light before leaving through the open doorway. The Last thing Robbie knew was the darkness.

The darkness and the winter cold.

NEW STORY:

THE WARLOCK

This story has elements of NonHuman, Erotic Horror, First Time,

Lesbian, Group Sex (m/f/f) and Mind Control. If any of that bothers you then turn back now. If not, then enjoy!

My name's Wilfred Tennamont and I am a warlock. I thought I should probably put that out there, right up front. I'm not a wizard, I'm not a mage, and I'm not your fucking fairy godfather. What I do is painful, ruthless, and often quite mean spirited. I deal with demons on a daily basis, and those are some of my more polite meetings. If you ever meet me, chances are you've hit rock bottom and the only thing you've got left to give is your battered and bruised soul. Well guess what? I'm buying.

I could make all your dreams come true. Come into my office and by the end of the day you could be smoking a joint made from a rolled up hundred dollar bill whilst a supermodel fucks you into next week. Think that sounds pretty sweet for the price of one little soul? If you do, then congratulations, you're an idiot.

See, everyone likes to talk about their soul but no one really has a clue what it is. Well allow me to brush away the cobwebs of ignorance and spill the beans. Your soul is a power plant. What does it power?

Creativity, emotion, desire. You name it. Everything that makes you who you are is given Light by the energy of your soul. It's the way to more power than you can ever imagine, but most people are only too eager to sign theirs over for a few million bucks and a blowjob from their high school sweetheart.

What do I do with it once it's mine? Well, since I'm a stand up guy, the first thing I do is let you rent back most of it. This is mainly because if I didn't then you'd turn into a completely emotionless husk on the spot, and I don't want your fat ass littering my office. The magic I work tricks your soul into thinking you're more than you are.

It puts it through its paces, and when that bad boy starts overproducing its energy for you then I just skim off the excess. Well, that's if I like you. Most of my contracts are made from deals like this, but as you might imagine I tend to come across some bad apples in my Line of work.

If I find you to be particularly despicable then you get what I've come to call the VIP treatment. Instead of trimming away that excess power,

I'll slowly let all that energy build and build right before I drain it all away at once. It's a week-long process during which you'll inevitably sink into a grim fit of prolonged depression before wrapping your neck up in a noose.