When we last spent time with our resident vampires, we witnessed Ceres take the reigns in dealing with the human cluster with which she was traveling. Turns out, there was one among them with a bone to pick with Ceres, and as we discovered, it was the wrong bone. You can catch up with Part XXI here. Let’s find out what happens to this person as a result of picking the wrong bone to … er … pick →
Marcello stared hard at the three helmeted figures surrounding the table facing him. He refused to be intimidated by these cowards who refused to show their faces. The witch’s cabal huddled in the corner by the door, preventing anyone from entering. He was strapped to a chair and gagged, unable to move or speak. Not that he had much of a chance of getting out if he could get free; the witch proved to be strong; much stronger than he. He tried screaming at first, running his throat ragged while producing very little noise. The three helmeted figures had just stared at him as he screamed, not moving, saying nothing. At least, he assumed they were staring at him. Their heads were turned in his direction. He screamed and he screamed and they just stood and stared. And when he was done screaming, they continued to stare. For hours. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought they weren’t human.
Without any means of telling the time, he was unaware of how long he spent waiting. There came a knock on the door, and the witch rose to meet the inquirer. Despite their low voices, he heard their verdict: he was to be abandoned. The rest of what was said mattered little to him.
He expected them to kill him outright. He knew he couldn't win in a fight against the witch, and now the witch had friends. The people were fools for trusting the witch, but they had been fools from the beginning, and he was a fool for having offered to help them. Well good riddance, he thought. If they leave him, he'll find his own way out. He always managed to survive.
He watched the witch close the door. She turned around and crossed her arms. She said, "I'm sure you heard that." He just stared at her in response. She continued, saying, "I'm of the mind to throw you outside and let them deal with you." So they wouldn't be killing him outright. But whether she killed him or those outside did mattered little. Death was death. He had heard rumors about what those outside did to humans, but he questioned their reliability. They said no one who was caught by those things were ever seen again; yet the rumors persisted. How could anyone know?
The witch turned to the other two helmeted figures. She said, "We'll move when it gets dark. It's safer for the people." He found it odd she had to explain it to them. Who were these two? How did they not know they could only travel at night? There was too much he didn't know, and it bothered him. But it didn't matter. He was going to be left for dead.
Continued after the break
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A traveling merchant finds himself in quite the predicament when he manages to win a duel, leading him down a dark path. A tale from the Odds ‘n’ Endings Boutique.
The three figures turned their attention back on him. He refused to wither under their stares, but without being able to see their eyes, he didn't know where or who to stare at in return. The witch spoke up as he eyes darted between the three of them:
"I don't trust you to not follow if I let you go."
"I could deal with him." The tall skinny one with the weird choker said this.
"I can't imagine the taste," said the witch. "Nor do I want to."
What the fuck did that even mean? Was the tall skinny one suggesting she would eat him? Who the fuck were these people?!
Marcello started struggling against his bonds. Not for the first time, he tried chewing through the rag in his mouth. He knew it was futile, but he wasn't going to just let them stand there and talk about how they were going to kill him. Bastards. Let them try. He might be killed, but he was going to take them down with him.
"Deja lo." Leave him. This came from the burly one in the middle, the one the other seemed to give deference. "We can collect him on our way back."
Fear shot through Marcello. The tone was calm and even, and to him it seemed filled with menace. How this person managed to pack every syllable with intimidation despite the serene delivery chilled Marcello to the bone. He didn't know what was worse: being thrown outside for those things to come and get him, or being dragged away by these three to whatever hell they had in mind for him. He didn't want to find out; he began struggling against his bonds with greater fervor.
"Looks like the worm hates the idea," said the witch. Marcello stopped struggling long enough to glare at her. "I'd agree based on that alone, but I think more than that, it's prudent."
Without a word spoken, the three people behind the witch approached Marcello and began tightening his bonds, while the three figures in helmets watched. He vigorously protested, but to no avail. The strips of material and bit of rope securing him to the chair were manipulated to make it even harder for him to move. Even worse, they secured the chair to the table. Gone was the option of turning the chair over. It may not have helped him much, but more options were better than less, and his options were being whittled away.
The witch spoke again, this time addressing Marcello: "I don't care if you're here or not when we get back, I just don't want you to follow us." She nodded, and then everything went black.
Hmm … who is this Marcello fellow and why is everyone glad to be rid of him? From what we’ve gathered so far, he seems to be a problematic fellow, but perhaps not bad enough to where the humans couldn’t band together and shout him down, right? Except we know that’s not what’s happening, and it seems easier to just abandon the man than attempt to reason with him. Is this lazy or pragmatic on their behalf? There’s only one way to find out! Come back next week!
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