The moon was full and nearly at its zenith, shining down upon what looked like a small hovel beside a large, magnificent lake. Dense dark woods surrounded the land, making the cottage seem completely isolated from civilization. Within the tiny home, however, it was much grander due to complex charms Samuel had cast long ago when he first discovered this place.

He had made it into the perfect home for himself and his captive... she would see in due time just how wonderful he made their home. In the basement though, a gruesome scene would churn even the most iron-bellied of individuals. The heady scent of copper nearly overpowered everything else in the room, strong enough that even the lit candles couldn't begin to mask it.

Many swan corpses were intricately arranged, their throats slashed, their blood creating an elaborate circle around the obvious focus in the middle of the room - an unconscious woman. Her body had been decorated with feathers from each swan, along with other ingredients that seemed mundane compared to the avian bodies. Besides the faint crackling from the candle flames, the only other sounds were occasional steps and humming as Samuel walked around the scene. His bloodied hands were locked behind him as he stopped near her head, looking down at what he considered the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.

For years he had been planning this... cultivating the swans and gathering ingredients including nightshade petals and powdered dragon bone for the ritual. He had followed each instruction from an ancient grimoire acquired through questionable means, and soon he would be rewarded for his efforts and dedication. He knelt down slowly, careful not to disturb anything, and drew out his wand, continuing to hum Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake - a song near and very dear to his heart.

With a few soft words, he made a small incision just above her breasts near her heart. After a few seconds, blood began to well up which he immediately caught in a crystal vial. His hand trembled slightly with excitement as moonlight filtered in through a window to his right. "Soon, ma petite cygne... soon..."

The beam of moonlight slowly lengthened to envelop her body as Samuel stood, knowing there was only a short window before the ritual would become useless. He held the vial before him as he began to recite the ancient words, watching as the various ingredients rose and moved, molding together into a single dark red mass. He flicked his wrist, commanding it into the vial where it melded with her blood, the liquid now taking on a dark blue hue.

A wide, nearly maniacal grin broke across his face as the potion stabilized. He knelt before her again, putting his wand away before tenderly tilting her head back, parting her lips with his thumb. He brushed her lower lip slowly with the pad of his thumb, feeling how soft the skin was there while bringing the vial closer, trickling drops into her mouth. He watched the viscous liquid coat her tongue before using his other fingers to massage her throat, encouraging her to swallow each drop.

As the last drop disappeared between her lips, he witnessed the feathers he had placed on her body sink into her flesh, seamlessly disappearing. "Finally..." He released a long breath he had been holding since the beginning of the ritual. With extreme care, he lifted her up, one arm behind her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, moving to take her upstairs.

"You are mine now, ma petite cygne... just as I am yours..." The last lingering bits of moonlight caught his face, highlighting the grizzly scar on his left cheek and jaw that she had given him all those years ago.