of color before joining together in a single moment in time.
Then she witnessed it all. The failed attempt on the Gate Keeper’s life. And not just by amateur thugs, but by the famed Tryads at that. Professional killers who never failed had been easily overpowered by that...thing. The vivid scene played itself out within a few heartbeats, then was over in a flash. Morita shook herself, trying to clear the lingering fuzz from her head.
Once her head was clear, she refocused her attention on the gluey monstrosity. It seems the demon has made even more enemies. Powerful ones at that . It garbled incoherently in response. “Now, to find out who sent them,” she said out loud, tapping her chin as she turned towards the door. “And more importantly, how to use this to my advantage.”
The way she saw things, information was nearly priceless. The only way information couldn’t be used to one’s advantage was to be ignorant of it in the first place. I must be kept aware at all times. Always stay one step ahead .
Upon leaving , there came a garbled sound from behind her that she simply couldn’t make out. It came from the beast, which seemed to be trying to communicate verbally. “What was that, mutant?” she taunted in a high-pitched voice. “Oh look, it’s trying to speak.”
The garbled sound came once more, a bit easier to comprehend. The bubbly voice sounded like a man whose head was being held underwater. “I’mmm sssssuffering. Please let...me dddie.”
Morita’s eyebrows rose in feigned pity, her lips puckering into a sorrowful circle. She tipped her head, looking at the creature sideways. “Oh, my poor, poor father. Please, allow me to make you this promise.” Her face hardened, no longer feigning pity. “The day I no longer find you useful, I swear you’ll get your wish.”
* * *
The old woman tugged fiercely at the iron cuff around her wrist. Her long, gray hair was tangled around her face and neck. Greasy and sweaty, it clung tightly. Pressing against the iron cuff with her chin for leverage, she attempted wiggling it back and forth with her other hand. The woman was very weak and frail now, and knew these attempts to free herself were futile. I have to keep trying, the old woman thought to herself, attempting the same maneuver on the other cuff. If I give up hope, I’m already dead .
“Please stop , my lady,” came a pleading voice from outside the cell. “If she ever sees you doing that, who knows what will happen to you.”
R ecognizing the familiar voice, the old woman relaxed her arms, allowing them to flow back above her head. The chains clacked away, retracting back into the stone wall. “It’s good to see you, Brenda,” croaked the old woman, her voice hoarse and dry. There was another, softer click and the caged door swung open. In walked a young woman wearing a dingy white dress, same as the other servants. Her long, dark hair was held up in a tight bun, a practical way to wear it while cooking and cleaning. She looked sad, carrying a silver tray with crackers, cheese, and a tin cup filled with water. She laid it at the old woman’s feet. “I was told I could feed you today,” she said, perking up a bit with the good news.
“Is that so?” mumbled the old woman weakly. “Let’s see if I still remember how to eat.” Her short-lived laugh soon became a fit of harsh coughing.
The improper joke brought a hint of a smile across the dark-haired girl’s face. “If only I could be half as strong as you,” she mumbled.
“Yet I am in chains and you are not. I’m not exactly sure why you envy me.”
The young girl’s smile grew a little bigger.
The mechanism within the wall began to click while the old woman reached down towards the tray. “No, no, my lady. Save your strength. I’ll get that for you.” The chains snapped back and the old woman relaxed, back pressed against the wall. The girl took a piece of cheese and popped it in the old woman’s mouth. Then she
Then she witnessed it all. The failed attempt on the Gate Keeper’s life. And not just by amateur thugs, but by the famed Tryads at that. Professional killers who never failed had been easily overpowered by that...thing. The vivid scene played itself out within a few heartbeats, then was over in a flash. Morita shook herself, trying to clear the lingering fuzz from her head.
Once her head was clear, she refocused her attention on the gluey monstrosity. It seems the demon has made even more enemies. Powerful ones at that . It garbled incoherently in response. “Now, to find out who sent them,” she said out loud, tapping her chin as she turned towards the door. “And more importantly, how to use this to my advantage.”
The way she saw things, information was nearly priceless. The only way information couldn’t be used to one’s advantage was to be ignorant of it in the first place. I must be kept aware at all times. Always stay one step ahead .
Upon leaving , there came a garbled sound from behind her that she simply couldn’t make out. It came from the beast, which seemed to be trying to communicate verbally. “What was that, mutant?” she taunted in a high-pitched voice. “Oh look, it’s trying to speak.”
The garbled sound came once more, a bit easier to comprehend. The bubbly voice sounded like a man whose head was being held underwater. “I’mmm sssssuffering. Please let...me dddie.”
Morita’s eyebrows rose in feigned pity, her lips puckering into a sorrowful circle. She tipped her head, looking at the creature sideways. “Oh, my poor, poor father. Please, allow me to make you this promise.” Her face hardened, no longer feigning pity. “The day I no longer find you useful, I swear you’ll get your wish.”
* * *
The old woman tugged fiercely at the iron cuff around her wrist. Her long, gray hair was tangled around her face and neck. Greasy and sweaty, it clung tightly. Pressing against the iron cuff with her chin for leverage, she attempted wiggling it back and forth with her other hand. The woman was very weak and frail now, and knew these attempts to free herself were futile. I have to keep trying, the old woman thought to herself, attempting the same maneuver on the other cuff. If I give up hope, I’m already dead .
“Please stop , my lady,” came a pleading voice from outside the cell. “If she ever sees you doing that, who knows what will happen to you.”
R ecognizing the familiar voice, the old woman relaxed her arms, allowing them to flow back above her head. The chains clacked away, retracting back into the stone wall. “It’s good to see you, Brenda,” croaked the old woman, her voice hoarse and dry. There was another, softer click and the caged door swung open. In walked a young woman wearing a dingy white dress, same as the other servants. Her long, dark hair was held up in a tight bun, a practical way to wear it while cooking and cleaning. She looked sad, carrying a silver tray with crackers, cheese, and a tin cup filled with water. She laid it at the old woman’s feet. “I was told I could feed you today,” she said, perking up a bit with the good news.
“Is that so?” mumbled the old woman weakly. “Let’s see if I still remember how to eat.” Her short-lived laugh soon became a fit of harsh coughing.
The improper joke brought a hint of a smile across the dark-haired girl’s face. “If only I could be half as strong as you,” she mumbled.
“Yet I am in chains and you are not. I’m not exactly sure why you envy me.”
The young girl’s smile grew a little bigger.
The mechanism within the wall began to click while the old woman reached down towards the tray. “No, no, my lady. Save your strength. I’ll get that for you.” The chains snapped back and the old woman relaxed, back pressed against the wall. The girl took a piece of cheese and popped it in the old woman’s mouth. Then she
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