Eric awoke in a panic that had his heart thundering in his chest and robbed him of his sense. Some part of him realized that he'd been having the dream again, the dream of her. It was the dream where he'd been in bed with her, caressing her body and tasting her skin to the point that he drove the two of them insane with desire...

Then just before they'd made love, she'd stand up and laugh in his face and tell him that he was a fool for ever thinking she'd be with him permanently. As she'd rip into him with her barbed words, the prince would materialize by her side and gently take her elbow before turning them both and walking towards the door. While the two of them would happily stride together out of Eric's room, the tall and startling form of her lover clad in his expensive silks and his head topped with a delicate crown of twisted and entangled roses would pause in his walk. From his vantage point where he was lying nude in bed watching them, Eric would see the stiffening of the prince's shoulders as an idea came over the man.

The figure would then turn and stride back over to Eric's bedside. For some unknown reason, Eric always found himself unable to respond as the man grinned at him for several long, haunting moments. At first, the grin was subtle, a natural tugging at the corners of the man's mouth that pulled his lips back to reveal his shiny and perfect smile. After a few minutes of wordlessly staring at the now-paralyzed Eric, the prince's smile would grow wider and wider to the point that it became so unnaturally large that Eric half believed the man's skin would rip. Still, though, Eric always found himself unable to move and could only watch in horror as the man reached into his velvety red cloak to remove an jewel-encrusted dagger adorned with emeralds and rubies and the crusty maroon residue of dried blood.

The man's smile would then reach its maximum, extending literally from one ear to another and revealing far more teeth than should exist in the mouth of any one man. Eric would try to struggle then, try to free himself from whatever idiotic paralysis had overcome him as the prince lifted the dagger and held it poised in the air above Eric's chest. By the door, Margaretha would laugh darkly, and the prince's tongue would dart from between his too many teeth to lick his cracked, purplish lips before he spoke. "She wanted Snow's heart? You didn't give it. For that, I am grateful, but now I want yours."

With that, the man would drive the dagger into Eric's chest, twisting the knife a little to find a good soft spot between Eric's ribs. The agony would wash over Eric like the pounding of a violent surf, and he'd feel creeping, clawing horror as he watched the prince work. He'd want to scream but find himself unable to as the man dragged his knife through Eric's flesh, creating a sizable hole. With his point of entry made, the prince would then lower his knife to the the bed beside Eric before using both bare hands and reaching into Eric's wound, searching until they felt his ribs. Still paralyzed, Eric would feel the prince's hands slipping around inside him, trying to find a grip on his bones which were slicked with his own blood and flesh. Once the man got a grip, he'd swiftly crack Eric's ribs and pull them apart, using an unnatural strength to tug aside bone and flesh in order to reveal Eric's beating heart.

Eric would feel the pain from all of this as well as the odd sensation of his heart beating in the hold of another person before the prince would look him in the eye, eyes now soulless and dark pools of oil and with a grin still so deeply disturbing that Eric would find his thoughts drifting to the memory even long after he'd awaken. Eric wouldn't die when the man squeezed then pulled out his heart, victoriously showing it Eric before taking a bite of the organ. He'd watch oddly and horrifyingly riveted as his own blood would leak from the corners of the prince's too-wide mouth to dribble down the prince's chin. For some reason, the sight always reminded Eric of watching someone bite into a fresh apple...or, perhaps more appropriately, the fantastical tale of Adam and Eve and the original sin. Mercifully, Eric would always wake up just as Snow joined the princes and took a delighted bite out of his heart.

Granted, that wasn't exactly how it'd happened. Minds tended to be a bit more dramatic than reality, but it was absolutely true that Snow had abandoned him to be killed at the hands of her new, and well connected, lover. And the nightmare was close enough to reality that Eric would, upon awakening, find himself gripping the sheets tightly and surrounded by a pool of his own sweat.

That was exactly what was happening now. The horror of the dream fading slightly to be placed by the painful reality of his sordid existence. His chest heaved with the memory of Snow and Prince Ferdinand and their pact to rid the world of Eric's existence. It had been a whole year. Why the fuck wouldn't his mind just let him get over the damned thing.

Still fighting to control his erratic breathing, Eric shook his head as if it would clear his mind of the horrors of his dream. Beside him, he heard a soft noise as the woman he'd shared his bed with began waking up. It had been the deep of night when he'd hired her, making it far too dark for him to recall a memory of her face. Not to mention the fact that Eric had been particularly drunk, and those facts combined to leave her a faceless figure in his hazy memories from the night before.

He rolled over to regard her in the morning light that was streaming in through the cheap curtains, involuntarily wincing against the pain in an effort to make out her still mostly asleep form. The sunlight made his head pound as his hangover seemed to worsen, and he quashed a groan that was building within his chest. Even with the hangover clouding his vision and making him squint, he could tell that the woman was attractive, with dark hair and pale skin. She was a woman who looked disturbingly like Snow.

Fuck.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly and half contemplated creeping out of bed before she woke up. But then she sighed and her eyes fluttered open, and Eric breathed a sigh of relief. At least her eyes were brown, not blue like Snow's. She was different enough that he didn't feel like he was awakening next to her. When the woman caught Eric looking at her, she smiled before stretching, though Eric scowled in spite of the somewhat pleasant feel of her body next to his.

Before she could say a word, he spoke. "The money is on the wash stand."

The woman snorted and rolled her eyes before reaching her hand to wipe her mouth, only successfully further smearing her lipstick all over her face and lending an enticingly disheveled look to her appearance. "You know, I wouldn't mind staying a little while longer." As she spoke, she moved her hand to Eric's thigh and trailed her fingers up his exposed skin, making him shiver with her obvious efforts to spend the morning with him in addition to the night they'd had.

Eric didn't want that, though, so he reached down and stilled her hand by grabbing her wrist. Of course he wasn't rough, but he made it clear he was finished. "Thank you for the offer, but I have some important things to do today."

She laughed before rolling naked out of bed and striding over the wash stand. That laugh told him that she didn't believe his assertion that he had important things to do and her reaction reminded him that she was right. Even though he was finished, however, he still admired her and found himself staring at her body as she began counting the money. Even though he'd told her he wanted nothing more, even though he really didn't want more, his body was reacting to the sight of her curves as she went about her careful task. Feeling his eyes on her, the woman then cast him a knowing glance over her shoulder as she collected her purse from her pile of clothing by the door then put the money inside, reserving a few bills and placing those on the washstand. Then she splashed herself with some water from the wash basin and used the tarnished mirror set into the piece of furniture as well as his thin washcloth to remove the excess lipstick from her face. She nodded at her reflection before returning her attention to him and giving him a quizzical look.

The woman stared for several moments before she looked down and sighed then grabbed the money from next to the basin and strolled back over to him. When she held out a few bills for him, his eyes widened curiously as he regarded the money. The woman then offered him an oddly gentle smile before explaining in a soft voice. "You overpaid."

He snorted, lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back only to realize that the cheap cotton material was doing nothing to hid his interest in her. "No I didn't. I gave you what was fair."

For her part, the woman noticed his interest too, and she gave him a coy smile, ignoring him placing the money in the pocket of his breeches which were left crumpled on the floor next to the bed. As she slipped the money in, she spoke, "Sure you're not amenable to another round? On the house."

Eric laughed then, a genuine sound that sounded entirely foreign to his ears. "I don't do anything for free."

She sighed, casting a wistful glance to him, then to his crotch, then back to him. "You know, you wouldn't be half back if you'd put down the bottle and clean yourself up."

Eric chuckled and shifted so that the blanket better covered his erection. "Now what kind of fun would I be if I did that."

She snorted in amusement before returning to her clothing to get dressed. "How long are you in Trebon?" She asked as she shimmied into the floor length garment and somehow began lacing up the back without any assistance.

"I don't know. I'm passing through. Usually I stay in a new place for a few months before moving on."

She nodded, tying her purse to her waist before turning to face him. "My name is Carolina."

"Is that your real name?" Eric asked with a smirk of his own.

She laughed waving her hand before adjusting her bosom in the top of the dress. "Of course not. But ask any of the girls where Carolina is, and they'll know. Now, kind sir, who do I need to ask for if I want to find you?"

Eric scowled, unlacing his fingers from behind his head and sitting up straighter. "Huntsman. That's what people have taken to calling me lately."

If she recognized his alias, she didn't show her surprise and only nodded sagely. "Stay out of trouble and the next round will be on me, Huntsman."

Eric grinned as he watched her retreating form leave the room of the shitty inn where he was staying. He never stayed out of trouble. Huffing in frustration, he threw off the blankets and stood before walking over to his pants and digging around in his pocket for his flask. He was already far too sober for his liking.