Copyright 2025 by Cassie Swindon
All rights reserved.
No part of this story may be produced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This work is fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, cities, or events are entirely fictional.
Scarlett’s Pledge
Cassie Swindon
A short story
1st Prequel to “Crimson Oath”
Read in this order:
Scarlett’s Pledge
Ryker’s Promise
Ruby’s Vow
Crimson Oath (full standalone novel)
Scarlett’s Pledge
The night breeze holds my secrets, even as it brushes against my sister’s ears. She can’t know where we’re headed, so today marks the first time I have lied to her. At least I only needed to convince one of my sisters that we need to find the map.
The blue moon killed the sun hours ago so we stalk forward on bare feet, while tree branches creak in subtle warning. Mysterious shadows slither between the trees, curious about our hunt. Nocturnal creatures creep around us with a pledge written in darkness.
This is where I belong because I’m a twisted soul. A wretched soul-sucking Slynik. We can’t keep killing the mortals. Once I find the map, everything will change. I’ll finally be free to live without the label of a murderess.
My face slams into something hard, sending pain up my nose as I stumble back.
“Ouch! Watch it, Crimson!” Scarlett hisses, but she still offers a hand to pull me to my feet like when we were kids.
“Sorry,” I whisper and sneak behind a tree trunk that has a ghostly-shaped face etched inside the bark’s lines. “I’m not used to this area.”
“Then why did you bring me here?” Scarlett’s brows knit together under the moonlight. “This better be worth it.”
A twig cracks a few feet in the distance and we both freeze. Maybe a deer? I glance around to spot a broken rocking chair swaying back and forth. A little stuffed animal sits atop with its fluff exploding outward from the sides. The chair continues to teeter from an invisible weight. Back and forth.
My gut immediately coils tight. Hundreds of forest animals could’ve caused that sound, but after we both breathe in a wiff of the muggy air and share one look, Scarlett smiles knowingly. Fuck! No! Why is there someone in the woods at midnight? She’s going to drain their priceless cruxel by emptying their soul. Mortals deserve the chance to live their short life full. I shake my head at my sister, wishing for once she could ignore the hunger for immortality.
Scarlett licks her bright red lips, then starts to creep around the side of the tree. I yank her arm. She twists sharply and shoots me a death glare. For a moment, all the lives she has stolen create a puzzle on her face. Hatred lines the rim of her features with selfishness rotting them from the inside. But I shake my head and choose to only see beauty—the sister who shared her toys with me, tucked me into bed at night, and to this day, still paints my nails each Saturday.
What do my sisters see in me when they study my face? Can they count all the souls I’ve stolen?
“Scarlett, we don’t need to feed.” The wind doesn’t hide my voice this time.
“Hello?” A man’s voice croaks.
Scarlett raises one finger to her pillowy lips and smirks again.
“Hello? Ry, is that you?” he repeats over the sound of leaves crunching. “Is anyone there?” A loud grunt, then a groan. “Please, I stepped in a trap. My leg … it’s …”
I try to tug Scarlett again but she’s too fast and steps out from behind the tree. I peek around, unable to ignore the last few seconds of this poor man’s life. What if he has a husband or wife waiting at home? This is not why I dragged Scarlett here. Mortals are rarely ever on the border of Astoria. Maybe if I can entice her with a promise of something more delicious, she’ll let him live. Before I can form a plan, her angelic voice rings out.
“Oh, thank Luna Above!” Scarlett fake-limps over to the man, clutching her stomach. “Finally! Oh, thank you, thank you for finding me!” She coughs weakly and I roll my eyes.
The man straightens upon seeing her perfect face, a mirror of the ancient statues that have stood the test of time. Scarlett’s eyes, which match mine, have the intensity to sink boats, and her complexion holds the power to sway the fate of Astoria’s people. But my sister’s true power is the words buried deep within her, knowledge from the many lives she’s stolen.
“Please, sir, I can’t stand much longer.” Scarlett sways.
When the man reaches forward to steady her, I stifle a gasp. The metal trap has severed everything below his knee.
They get closer. Closer. All she has to do is touch her finger to his temple, with the intent to drain him, and it’ll all be over. My heartbeat pounds on overdrive. I have to save at least one life from our despicable clutches.
“Wait!” I jump out.
The man falls against a tree, then slides down the trunk. Little sweat beads line his pale skin and his lips are as chapped as a desert ground. He glances between us, then his eyes grow wide. Quickly, he rams his hand in his pocket and fumbles around, likely for the spices he thinks will save him. Only a myth. No amount of cloves, cayenne, or ginger will keep us away.
“Stay back, you filthy Slynik!” he screams and waves his hands frantically, spewing herbs around his feet. The cruxel of his soul bleeds commands—a man of influence.
Scarlett continues her little theatrical show and forces a strained laugh. “Really, you think we’re as beautiful as Slyniks? That’s completely ridiculous. I mean, even though I was prom queen once upon a time doesn’t mean I can be compared to an immortal. Aer, did you hear that, sis? He’s so sweet.” She looks over again, allowing her cheeks to flush. “What’s your name, sir?”
His jaw drops in hesitation, but his eyes narrow. It’s like I’m watching his body and mind battle against each other. The man’s instincts know how deadly we are, yet Scarlett’s slimy charm slides across the forest floor and oozes into his heart.
“Here, help him up, Crims, we can both lean on either side of you,” she says.
“No.” I stand between my sister and her prey.
Her smile fades. “What?”
I swallow and it feels like rocks lodge tight in my throat. “Leave him alone.”
Scarlett stops her damsel-act and a muscle in her jaw ticks. “Move.”
Knowing what this man’s fate is, I close my eyes for a distraction. Sometimes when I spend hours tucked away in Astoria’s small bookshop, I collect handfuls of novels. I’ve always loved the dusty shelves and stacks of vintage leatherbounds that stack to the ceiling. I usually flip each book to page thirty-two, the same as my age.
The man’s terrified shrieks fill the forest, but I focus on my treasured bookshop. I feel his energy cycle around us in a chaotic mix of words, like: Beg. Fail. Lose. Fear. Death.
Another desperate scream pierces the air. Dread drips like a leaky faucet to the rhythm of my heartbeat. Plink. Thump. Plink. Thump. My eyes fly open to the familiar sight of Scarlett’s hands on the mortal’s temple. My body disturbingly longs for the pleasure my sister is experiencing, his energy she is capturing.
Agony floods the man’s bulging eyes. His face turns red. Black ink streams from his temples into the air. It turns into cursive letters, forming the shape of words that hover between them. The words flow into phrases that will ultimately be his demise. The man’s first words, last words, and most important words float between them in limbo.
All Scarlett has to do is give them back and he could live. My hands clutch my heart. Why do I care now? I’m not supposed to show empathy for our prey. As I hold my breath, Scarlett seizes the man’s entire cruxel and claims his whole soul. He crumples to the ground in a heap.
I shudder.
My breath finally releases. Scarlett skips to my side, looking five years younger.
“You’re right, Crims, that was fun.” She scoots past me with new-found energy. “Let’s go meet Ruby, she’s probably super jealous that we left her out. I can’t even remember the last time we did a forest hunt. Maybe last September?”
“Scarlett!” My fists ball up as I stare at his shell of a body. “Listen to me, damn it!”
“Woah, is your thong on backward, or something?!” She whirls around and follows my gaze. “Oh, I get it. Don’t be mad that I didn’t share him. That guy’s most meaningful words weren’t even that strong. They only gave me a couple years. I mean, seriously, who’s essence revolves around ‘if you want the rainbow you gotta live through the rain’… that was his life motto, Crims, what a total douche.”
My teeth grind together at her lack of empathy. This man had a family and life somewhere. “Scarlett, I need to show you something.”
“Fine, but hurry, Ruby will be home from her new girlfriend’s soon.”
Suddenly, I spot a little red light flickers on the dead man’s watch. The speed of the blinks quicken with each passing second. My chest tightens.
“Scarlett, we gotta get out of here!”
An owl hoots above, calling me into action. The birds always understand survival. My shoulder itches for the comforting talons of my falcon, but of course I left Tura at home tonight.
“Come on!” I sprint into the forest, where the moon can’t reach through the thick canopy. Scarlett matches my speed step for step, new youth radiating from her muscles.
“Where are we going?”
“The remains of Old Astoria are supposed to be a mile this way.” My lungs burn like razors as we accelerate, but Scarlett isn’t even winded, thanks to the new energy swirling inside her veins.
“Oh!” Glee writes lyrics across her smile. “Goddess above, Crims, you know I love archaeology, but if we’re late to meet Ruby then—”
“You know as well as I do that she’ll still be taking her hour-long shower by the time we get back.”
Trees soar past us and the sensation of flying almost makes me forget the last few minutes. But the scent of his death lingers on my skin like oil. I hate that my sisters only prey on the young. Stealing youthful souls gives them energy faster and easier, and the cruxel lasts longer, but their choice is lazy, egotistical and greedy. None of us ever asked to be born a Slynik or to be cursed with this soul-sucking appetite, but that didn’t mean we had to resort to becoming monsters.
That’s why I only feed off the elderly and chronically ill.
“Why … do we need … to go to … Old Astoria?” Scarlett finally started panting.
“There’s a map.”
Suddenly, her laughter erupts behind me. I halt and spin around.
“Why did you stop?”
“A map? Come on, Crims. We’re not teenagers who play adventure games anymore.”
“Fine, go home to Ruby. I’ll do this. Alone.”
Alone. The one word that snaps her back to reality. The three of us, only three years apart in total, have always been as close as triplets. Alone has never been a part of our vocabulary. The main reason we steal the words and souls and from our victim’s minds is to stay together. It just so happens that it also keeps us young forever.
Together is the important part. I wouldn’t care if I aged like a mortal, as long as I could stay with my sisters. None of us want to survive without the other two. Ruby, Scarlett and I are twisted together more than the roots of an oak.
Her dark eyes laser into me like she can read my mind. “What’s really going on, Crims?”
“Remember the pledge you made?”
She glances at the treetops.
“Scarlett, look at me!” I pull both her shoulders to make her face me. “You pledged! You swore to me that we’d try to find another option other than taking mortal lives.”
“Crims, that was years ago. You know we’ve read every book possible. There’s no other option. We either take their cruxel or we die, honey.” She tries to storm around me, but I block her and snap back, “Don’t talk to me like I’m some kid!”
“I’m not, Crims … I just happen to know more about …”
“Aaaah! Scarlett, no! No, you don’t know more. You always parade around, acting like a genius!” I throw my hands in the air and tromp around her. “That doesn’t mean you have all the answers! For once, please, just listen to me!”
She sighs and nods. “Okay, okay, I’m here, it’s okay. You won’t do it alone.”
Immediately, thousands of pounds slide off my shoulders. I roll in my lips and fight back a tear threatening to fall.
“Oh, Crims, come here.” She pulls me into a tight hug. “It’ll be okay.”
Scarlett’s warmth wraps around me like a blanket. She is my home.
“So, where is this stack of haunted ruins?”
“I never said haunted.” I pull back a bunch of vegetation and point to a pile of rubble, cracked bricks and broken stones near a cracked fountain. Bird crap covers the marble and I long for Tura’s company again. Maybe my falcon will sense my unease and meet us here soon.
I crouch and run a hand over some rocks. Astoria’s bookshop keeper swore that the map would be etched onto the side of the fountain.
“What are we looking for?” Scarlett asks.
“Carvings in the stone, maybe odd shapes or lines. We’ll probably have to find the different broken slabs and push them together.”
She huffs and lowers to her hands and knees, groping the jagged rocks. “And what will this map lead to?”
She’ll laugh at me again if I admit to believing the legends of the ancient treasure buried by our Slynik ancestors. By revealing my hopes about finding the elixir, it’ll add one more way for my sisters to treat me like a child.
I’ve never kept a secret so important from them before. Plus, what if there’s only enough of the fabled elixir for one of us to drink? There’s no chance I’d use it without sharing with my sisters. For now, the best option is to let the wind hold my secrets for a bit longer.
A beetle crawls over my hand and disappears between the crevices of the rocks. I swipe along the sharp edges. My fingers trace the grooves, searching for any feeling of a dent in the stone. Something must be here! Further. Further. Finally, I feel a split in the grainy texture but can’t see the shape.
“Crimson!” Scarlett’s voice cuts through the night.
I peer ahead, squinting. “Scarlett? Where are you? Did you find something?”
Tiny red dots dance between shrubs in the distance. I bolt to my feet.
“Scarlett?” Whirling in a circle, I scan the perimeter of the ruins. “Scarlett!”
A muffled sound tears my heart in two. A male’s deep groan follows.
No. Hunters shouldn’t be this deep into the forest.
“Wait!” I yell. “Stop!”
Dust flies as I scurry around in the dark, stumbling over broken rocks. Heart crashing behind my ribs. Breaths stagger in my lungs.
How many hunters are out there? What if they are carrying Noire venom? But they’d still have to be close enough to strike it directly into Scarlett’s heart with perfect aim.
Footsteps thunder to my right. A hand clamps around my mouth. It smells of vodka and dirt. I bite down on his finger, but he pulls my back tight against his chest. I kick. Writhe. Elbow his thigh. He grunts and folds in half but wraps his arms around my waist harder.
“Let me go!”
His hands might crunch my ribs. “Shut up!”
I snap my head back and slam my skull into his nose.
“Aah, you bitch!” He bends and pulls something from his boot. Something shiny glimmers in the moonlight.
Sharp pain slices into my side. I press my hand against the cut and cry out. I suck in a painful breath and stare at the blood on my fingers.
“What are you mumbling, Slynik?”
Rage floods my system and I march forward, hands out. I’ll drain him now. This bastard’s lifetime supply of adjectives, prepositions and affirmations are my next fuckin’ meal.
A gunshot fires from somewhere close.
“At least we killed one of you.” He grins and points his dagger at me again. “You’re next.”
“Scarlett?” The shrill voice doesn’t sound like my own. I leave the foolish mortal and run, searching all around. “Scarlett!”
The only way she’s dead is if that bullet was dipped in a Noire’s venom. But no one could know about our weakness. They can’t. It’s impossible.
My attacker chases. I bump into a trunk. Trip over a log, but keep going. Sweat slinks down my back. My heart races. There’s physical pain in my chest. Things are moving too quickly. Nothing makes sense. Scarlett has to be okay. A bullet can’t kill her. And no one knows about the spider poison. No one.
“Watch your back, man!” my assailant hollers from behind. “There’s a second one!”
A flurry of long black hair whips like a scarf against the darkness.
“Scarlett!”
“Go! Leave me!”
I sprint faster. Harder. Out of breath. Muscles on fire. Heart exploding.
“Scarlett!”
A van sits in the middle of the woods. The hunter opens the door and pushes Scarlett’s flailing body inside. I can only see his back: broad shoulders, shaved head, and an intricate tattoo peeking out from his black jacket, traveling up the back of his neck. But his cruxel is nonexistant. Empty. There are no verbs spilling from his aura, or glossary or index of his personality. The man doesn’t even have a defining motto he lives by enveloping him. He’s just vacant.
“Come on, Frank!” the ghost-of-a-man yells over his shoulder.
“Go! I’ll take care of this one!” the man named Frank booms.
The other one slides the door shut and jumps into the driver’s seat.
“Stop!” I push harder, driving my heels into the ground.
Only twenty more feet until I can free Scarlett.
The tires spin. Leaves burst upward in a whirlwind.
Ten more feet and I’ll have her by my side again.
Dirt flings into my face. I stop fast and cover my eyes. When I open them again, the van is weaving between trees, speeding away with my sister inside. Gas fumes choke my lungs, but I forget how to breathe for a different reason. She’s gone. They took her. Where? Why? What will they do with her? This has never happened. I need Ruby’s help. I need air.
I clench my fists shut, digging my nails into my palm. My eyes fill with tears, but I refuse to accept what just happened.
Then the man’s ragged breathing moves closer.
I spin and ram my fist into his stomach. My other hand touches his temple. He shudders and backs into a tree. Conversations from his past slip from his temples in black ink. Dialogue with his loved ones hang between us.
“Where did he take my sister!” I scream so loudly my throat scratches.
His gaze flutters to the trees behind me. “I … I … I don’t—”
I push against his temple harder. Haikus, sonnets, and rhymes from his memories all spurt from the side of his head and with each passing moment, his skin turns paler.
“P-please …” He slumps against the branch. “P-please, I’ll take … take you to them.” But all the words and stories and lies from his life slosh out of his temples like a bucket of spilled paint.
I lift my chin and plant my legs wide. “I’ll never go anywhere with you. And for taking her, you’ll suffer.” I spike my nail into his skin and dig.
“Aaaah!” His eyes squeeze shut.
I revel in his utter incapacitation, under my control and frozen. More words dump from his soul. Synonyms, analogies, and speeches all fall from his brain. They all give me energy.
“P-please!” His voice withers to a whisper. “He took her to Kinsley.”
“Kinsley is huge, asshole. Where exactly did he take her?”
As he shrieks in pain, information he previously read tumbles from his spirit in clumps. The man doesn’t have much time left. And I don’t care. I must never have truly cared. My sisters have always been right.
Mortals do indeed deserve this fate.
Blood drips down from his ears and out of his nose. Symbols in a language I don’t recognize plunge from the man’s temples. Then, the man’s most last words: ‘Failureis fatal.’ His heartbeat slows. Both arms go slack and limp. His jaw drops open. Finally, his neck cranes back, letting his head rest against the tree trunk.
Dead.
I sigh and drop my hand from his clammy skin. Gagging on the smell of rotten bile by my feet, I move to where the van had been parked. The tires formed divets in the ground and the few nearby boulders are doused in blood. Whose? Scarlett’s?
I can’t breathe. How much torture will they put my sister through? What do they want from her?
I should’ve been taken instead. It was my idea to search the ruins. I dragged her out to the woods at midnight.
A loud screech calls above.
“Tura!”
I hear my falcon’s wings flap before I see her. My hand shakes as I lift my arm for her so Tura lands carefully on my shoulder and quickly nudges her soft feathers against my cheek. She’s probably wet with my tears. Her giant brown eyes scan the scene and she calls out again.
“We need to follow the tires, Tura.” I walk forward on trembling legs.
Before I get far, Tura jumps off my shoulder and hops to the ground uncharacteristically.
“Tura? Are you hurt?” I squat and reach to her leg.
After noticing what she’s clawing at, I gasp. A square marble stone, about the size of that dead man’s head, lays under my falcon. A drawing is etched into the corner with a path of arrows leading to the edge of the stone. I gulp. Is it the first piece of the puzzle?
The stone is too heavy to carry so I try to memorize every symbol. Quickly, I dig a hole and bury the stone as deeply as possible, marking it so I can find the spot when I return.
Exhausted, I follow the tire tracks through the forest. When I find the man that took Scarlett, he will look me straight in the eyes when I kill him, just for my pleasure of watching his cruxel fall to the dirt.
What was his name?
Be sure to read the other short stories, in this order:
Scarlett’s Pledge
Ryker’s Promise
Ruby’s Vow
Crimson Oath- full standalone novel releasing in 2026
To read other short story prequels by Cassie Swindon, check her website at www.cassieswindon.com for the following:
Olivia’s Date
Lou’s Tulips
Rynn’s Crush
Piper’s Challenge
Mora’s Thorn
Eribelle’s Dream
Isaac’s Curse
Jadox’s Spell
Kyra’s Ruin
Raelyn’s Last Shot
Kody’s Secret
Phoenix’s Spies
Cali’s Escape
William’s Lies