Monsters

For a while, I even forget about my current ordeal. The unexpected flood of memories was just too sudden. Too vivid. I hate how much it affects me. I hate how I can't simply ignore it, just like I wish people did with me.

    But, since my banishment, since I met Peccelotte, I've been unable to close my eyes.

    A creak.

    Widening my eyes, I raise my head in the direction of the door.

“Shit! I didn't close it... I unlocked it and then...”

    It can be anyone. Anyone would be able to open the door. That's what I try to tell myself.

    Until the very last moment, my eyes just trace the floor.

“I'll just have to chase them away before-”

    A pair of black shoes. Black pants. One of his hands hanging along his waist, wearing a fingerless glove.

    A knot settles in my stomach as a muffled sound escapes a wriggling shape. A white, puffy one trapped in the unwavering grip of his other hand.

“This belongs to you, am I mistaken?” Seveg’s all too familiar voice utters.

    So this is why Fufu didn’t warn me. Seveg must have noticed he was followed, and he turned that poor cloud into some sort of hostage.

“That mercenary is too overpowered. I don’t like it. I really don’t like it.”

    Still knelt on the ground, Gryffin’s book in my hands, I fear what the tiniest move would elicit from Seveg.

“Are you here to kill me?” I blurt out before even thinking about it.

    He saw me. He definitely saw me in that alley.

    Perhaps amused, a dangerous yet discreet smile stretches on the mercenary’s lips.

“Good, alcohol left you with a couple of functional braincells.”

    And, with these words, he releases his grasp on Fufu. Letting the terrified cloud hurry to float until he reaches my back and hides. Seveg doesn’t seem to consider Fufu as a threat.

“But to be honest, I’m surprised.” He resumes. “I didn’t expect you to be so suspicious. Yet, I waited here for you all night, and you didn’t even return. I had to feign leaving for you to show up.”

    Seveg takes a step forward at his words. Realising that, from the beginning, I had no chance to fool that man, I lose my balance and fall backward with a muffled shriek. Palms pressed to the dusty floor, the back of my boots frantically push the floor away as I recoil. Even if to win a mere metre. Even if all he has to do is to take a couple of steps to reach me.

“How did you even enter?”

    I have to strike first.

    Seveg pauses to reach out for something in his pocket but, as I tense, all he retrieves is a thin, long pipe.

“Spag.”

    At his command spell, the end of his pipe reddens. While Seveg presses it to his mouth, a thin volute of smoke begins to slither from the lit edge.

    The pipe pinched between two of his fingers, Seveg takes a deep breath in before lowering his hand, releasing through his lips a greyish cloud.

“The key I have is an artifact.” He explains. “It takes the shape of the key unlocking whatever lock I introduce it into. I had to pay the price, but it’s fitted for a mercenary like me, don’t you think?”

    The figure of the doctor in Gryffin’s memories flashes before my eyes, briefly aligning with Seveg’s…

“You’re nothing but an assassin.”

    Because of unscrupulous people like them, so many lives are lost. Cursed people. They shouldn’t be allowed to live like this. Cursed souls. They should be punished. Cursed to the bone. The world would be a better place without them. Without villains!

    Feeling the anger filling every drop of my blood, I slowly reach my hand to an empty bottle placed behind the chest of drawers. Inch by inch, my fingers curl around its neck.

“If I get rid of someone like him, that’ll be a good deed. I’ll save many lives. Many people like Gryffin.”

    Taking advantage of Seveg’s tardiness in attempting anything, preferring to smoke without uttering a word, I tighten my grip on the bottle.

“This world will be less of a shitty place.”

    That was the plan in the beginning, anyway. That’s what heroes are for.

    With a raging yell, I jump to my feet. Surging forward, I swing the glass bottle in the direction of the mercenary.

    Instead of moving away, Seveg takes another puff of his pipe. The detachment in his labradorite gaze only makes my blood boil with more intensity.

“Why are you so eager to die?” Seveg sighs, flipping his pipe at the last moment to block my blow. The bottle trembles against the thin stem. “You could’ve won a few minutes.”

    I barely have the time to widen my eyes before Seveg hurls a fist into my stomach. The impact makes me stagger back for a few steps. Only then do I remember the way the militiaman handled Gordon without a problem at the Di Amethyst mansion.

    But it doesn’t stop me from hurling myself back at the mercenary, aiming again for his head.

“Predictable.” He utters, mid-closing his eyes.

    Curled up in a corner of the room, Fufu shivers at the sight of such a violent conversation.

    I don’t manage to see what Seveg does, but this time I can’t even approach him close enough before a sharp pain in the stomach makes me wince. Still, it’s nothing like what I experienced the past two times I died.

    Resisting the urge to lower my gaze, I focus on Seveg. From the beginning, he hasn’t even moved an inch from where he stands.

“How I hate men like them. They think everything is allowed to them.” I clench my teeth. “Even if I die, I’ll take him with me to hell.”

    Hell… Flames… I want them to engulf him…

“Flarek flarek helleo!” I utter for the first time.

    The words came to me naturally. And, as if to grant my wish, wreaths of fire shape in front of me, surging forward in the direction of Seveg.

    The flames reflect in his glasses, but the man only moves his lips.

“Alleqeo sut illeo ul codel.”

    At his words, water is summoned, covering his whole figure like a second skin. It’s enough to protect him from the wreaths which continue, only partly extinguished, until they hit the walls of Gryffin’s house. Wreath after wreath. Ricocheting off the furniture, spreading over the bed.

    Stunned by my own spell, I pause to stare at the nine wreaths, each time narrower, hurled at Seveg.

“It’s… my magic? I never managed to cast something like this before.”

    Granted, it is still fire, but it goes far beyond my hesitant attempts to create a mere campfire.

    And yet, it isn’t enough to make Seveg step aside. Only when all the flames go past him does the water over his skin dissipate.

    Glass shattering.

    Only then do I realise that the bottle I held until now somehow escaped my grip.

“Huhh?”

    With a frown, I glance down at the glass shards scattering on the floor.

    Vision blurring.

“Ahh…” I reach a hand to my stomach, fingers soon meeting the cold blade of a dagger. “I forgot about that.”

    A thud.

    Knees cowardly gave way, hitting the ground without restraint. Glass shards invading my flesh.

“There was something on that blade…” I mutter as I begin to pant like a dog good to burry.

“Poison.” Seveg replies in a monotone voice. “You have a couple of minutes left.”

    Blood drips profusely from my wound as the mercenary kneels before me to retrieve his dagger, cleaning the blade with a handkerchief.

“Mmm… Bad reflex.” He comments. “I shouldn’t have wiped it. I still need it to retrieve your heart.”

    Around us, the flames begin to crackle, attacking anything they can devour.

“You’re a monster…” I groan. “How many lives wasted only to fill your purse?”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Huhh?”

“Aren’t we all monsters?” Seveg remains knelt at my height, holding my gaze. “Beings existing only to be chased for the magic within. I’ve always wondered… if we live in a community because we’re supposed to benefit from it, or if it’s because it makes it easier to kill us when needed.”

“Livestock??” I scoff. “Is that what you’re saying we are? You should return to your mother’s womb. I think she forgot to give you a heart.”

“Is it what I think, or is it what we think of ourselves? We’re twisted, aren’t we? That’s what you told me earlier.”

“Why did you even join me at the tavern? And don’t begin telling me shit about fate, or I’ll use my last strength to punch you and break these glasses you have here. Was observing your future prey amusing, you pervert?”

    At least I can tell myself that thanks to my grand sacrifice, nobody else will die tonight by Seveg’s hands. Still counts, right?

    As I become numb to my pain, I’m trapped in wishful thinking. Maybe, after all, I still have a chance to survive. But Seveg’s face blurring further tells me another story.

“I only kill people who, left barren by life, act like their lives have no value.”

“I sure tried disfiguring you because I think so.” I retort, bitter.

“It happens sometimes. In their last moments, and only when feeling their end close, even gemans like this understand how precious their life is. In a way, that’s depressing to see. Why not fight before? Why wait to be on the verge of losing everything?”

    A pause. My lips are protesting to shape additional words.

“When it’s possible, I often do that.” Seveg thus resumes. “Sharing one last drink with the geman I decided to kill. And tonight it was you. You were on my list for quite a moment.”

    That’s when a realisation begins to dawn on me.

“List..?”

“A list of names. People whose lives will one day end because of me.”

    Hearing him speak… It becomes obvious that he didn’t see me in the alley where he got commissioned. Seveg would’ve mentioned it otherwise.

    I let out a dry chuckle.

    How ironic. So, after all, I saved nobody. I only overheard the conversation of men planning my death. There was never a question of saving anyone. There was no one to save. Not tonight. All I did was rush to my own death. If I hadn’t followed Seveg, nobody would’ve ever returned to the house he waited at. Maybe he’d have still killed me elsewhere, maybe he would’ve then opted for another name on his cursed list.

“I see.” I choke out. “I was your target from the beginning.”

    Something different flickers in the mercenary’s gaze, though I’m quite unable to piece it back together. Specks of colour smeared over what once was a face. No more shapes. Crimson at my feet. A thud. No more colours.

𖢻 𖢻 𖢻

    Before me, the corpse of a man. Brownish hair, a crimson pool at his stomach. His tiger-eye irises lost the glow which once inhabited them.

    Around me, warmth intrudes my sides. Flames munch on the little ignitable things in a house built out of bone powder.

    Wide-eyed, I stare at Gryffin’s lifeless form.

“That must be a joke…” I whisper to myself, gripping my neck the moment I recognise Seveg’s voice.