Blood of the Fallen 9

From the concealing shadows of the church, it watched two people depart, slipping into the forest.  Its eyes narrowed with hungry malice.  This was an unexpected progression of events that its superiors had not foreseen.  It tapped its clothed foot on the paved stair, impatient as it decided the best course of action.  With every passing minute, the two escapees ventured further and further from its grasp.  If they made it to Daverne, it would be hard pressed to find them.

And what of the pale man?  It puzzled over this dilemma.  The man was expected, had been expected since he had fled from its superiors.  The two that knew too much, however, the two who could reveal its and its master’s secret were two pawns that had to be eliminated.  It must succeed in both endeavors, it reasoned, but who could it trust to follow the girl and scholar?  It was obvious that it could not trust another with its responsibility of capturing the pale man and it would be held responsible if anything went awry.  The girl and scholar were different.  They merely needed to be erased from existence and so long as the evidence was not traced back to him, what did it matter that it was done discreetly or otherwise?

Yes, it could think of only one that was appropriate for this task, only one that was wicked enough to hunt ceaselessly, to rip flesh without remorse, and to gnaw into human fear with little effort.  Its flesh wrinkled underneath the mask as it grimaced with malevolent delight.

Pushing off from the shadows of the church it traced its steps back through the abandoned building.  Orders and commands were still being decreed in the streets, but it took no notice.  Soon, the only sound it heard was the rustle of its robes against the floor.  Darkness engulfed it as it ventured deeper into the church.  Brackets were set along the hall for lit torches, but it need not bother with such ceremonies.  Even in darkest of dark, it would need no light.  The twists and turns of the corridor were as sharp as if it were daylight, an essence it loathed.

After the course of a few minutes, it arrived at a simple, iron set door where the corridor ended.  There was no apparent handle nor any clear indication of how the door opened.  It did not hesitate and soon was past the obstacle continuing down a stretched, narrow hall which led into a dim room.  The furnishings were plain with a few chairs and tables situated in the room and a smaller corridor leading off from the left to bedrooms.  Candles flickered from each table providing halos of light in the sparse room highlighting the crumbling stone of the wall.  Two others sat placidly in chairs, seemingly asleep, their bodies still as ice.  It snapped its fingers which echoed off the stone walls and down to the bed chambers.  As the snapping evaporated it was replaced by the rustling of robes and murmured voices.  The two in the chamber slowly arose, their eyes fixed on the new comer.


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