A full moon lit the newly renovated mansion, the plantation fields, and the post that held the salve's corpse that had been rotting for three days; and Marilyn strode across the blood-stained grass towards her master's house.

She was born in Illinois in Spring 1801. She had an education and freedom, but she didn't have any luck. When she was twenty-five, she was snatched off a country road, dragged down to Louisiana, and sold to Thomas Tremblay, a wealthy man who lived just north of Nor Orleans.

At first, she tried to figure out how to get back home, but the trials and burdens of slavery beat her down until she only strived to survive each day. A year after she was taken, she married a slave named John, and they vowed to stay together "until death or distance". In this case, it would be the former.

There wasn't a honeymoon, and instead, Marilyn continued to teach her husband how to read and write, which she had been trying to do since they first met. They were happy as they could be given their circumstances, but that changed when Marilyn told him of her old life in Illinois. Her account of freedom inspired him to escape to it, and his excitement revived her hope.

They planned their escape and ran for the woods, but the dogs caught them just past the tree line. Thomas wasn't happy. He only beat Marilyn around a little as she was his best cook, but John was far from being a favorite. Thomas had John tied to the post, and he got his prized cat-o-nine tails and spent an hour flogging his disobedient slave.

John screamed in agony for the first half before he lost consciousness; by the time Thomas had tired himself out, John had been long dead. His body was left on the post as a "warning" to the others.

After walking by his decaying body for days, Marilyn was distraught, and I decided to appear to her and offer her the tools for her revenge. I gave her power, youth, and a knife. She complained about weapon's appearance. The handle was crafted like a spine. One end held a clear gem (the only thing remotely attractive about it), and the killing end resembled a tooth with only a sharp end and no real blade.

Marilyn walked through the back door, crept up the stairs, and nudged the master bedroom door open. She walked to Thomas's side of the bed and raised the crude knife above her head before plunging the bone down into the man's chest and through his heart. The man gave out a death gasp, which woke Jocelyne, his wife. She started to scream, but Marilyn didn't let this stop her from following my directions.

With the knife still in Thomas's chest, the clear stone in the handle was filled with a black ooze; Marilyn whispered the Germanic chant I told her, and the stone became clear again. Thomas was trapped inside his nice, little house.

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you like this post, please leave a vote and comment (this will increase the project's score in my personal spreadsheet).