Alex watched the crescent moon rise as the Elf’s footsteps echoed through the attic, growing more anxious with each passing second. He knew what she was feeling at that moment, being so close to her goal yet having to wait. But Alex had been working on this plan for a week, and nothing could throw a spanner in the works. Not even partnering up with an Elf that he met in the attic of his target’s castle.
He probably should have been a bit more cautious around someone who had tried to stab him five minutes ago. Confronting a red-haired Elf with penetrating green eyes in the darkness had been unnerving, not to mention the fact that she towered over him by two inches. But something about the Elf convinced Alex not to immediately knock her out. Maybe because he saw potential in her, or that something about her reminded Alex about himself.
Do this afterwards.
“Why are we wasting time?” the Elf’s impatient voice snapped Alex back to the present.
“Can’t tell you.” Alex replied. Her frustration was evident as she grabbed him by his collar
“I know that you’re anxious, but there’s no reason to get physical,” Alex calmly responded, before slipping out of her grip.
“I don’t fully trust you, either,” He continued, brushing the dust off his clothes, “But you’re right. It’s been long enough, so let’s go kill an Earl.” The Elf’s body exuded relief as she started to move towards the door that was at the back of the attic.
“Not that way,” Alex exclaimed, knowing that he was grinning like a maniac as he motioned her to follow him. Alex made his way to the other side of the attic, through the stacks of painting, jewellery, chandeliers, and other antiques, noting anything that seemed stolen or out of place. Soon he reached his destination, with the Elf in tow. Alex could feel her doubts about his sanity as he pressed his back onto a blank wooden wall.
“What’re you standing there for, come on,” motioning her to do the same, which she reluctantly did. “When I say so, push your entire weight on the wall,” Alex instructed, and with a tap on the wall, they did exactly that. The wall just stood there, unwilling to move in spite of their efforts, but Alex felt it cave.
“Move a bit to your right,” Alex instructed once again, and the Elf did so hesitantly. And with another tap on the wall, they started to push once again. But this time, a faint mechanical click echoed from behind the wall, and it finally gave way. The faux wall fell, and the Elf stumbled, but Alex quickly grabbed the edge of the passage and her arm, preventing them from falling. He looked back to see the already small chamber that had revealed itself further narrowed into a tiny passage, presumably weaving through the walls of the castle.
Alex pulled the Elf to her feet, motioning her to follow behind as he squeezed himself into the passage. He considered himself a pretty lean guy, yet Alex had to hug the moss-covered stone walls to move through the escape route. They both shuffled through the passage, the stench of rotten wood wafting through the air, the passage gradually dipping downwards. He followed the passage as it made a left, then a right, and suddenly stopped. The Elf bumped into him, not realising he had stopped. Alex touched the wall in front of him, noticing the familiar feel of lacquered wood. A singular ray of light was illuminating his surroundings, coming from a hole in the wall.
Alex whispered back to the Elf, “We’re here,” signalling her to remain quiet as he checked his watch. It should have started by now. Alex peered through the hole. Just as he was told, the passage connected to the Earl’s study room. His vision was met by a large portrait of the Earl as a young, blonde knight on a horse adorned one wall. But Alex needed only to look to its left to see the facade that the painting was depicting.
Time had not been good to Reginald Hastings, the Earl of Bakelv. He was sitting on an ornate chair, hunched over the table, furiously scribbling on a piece of paper till satisfaction, shabbily stuffing it into an envelope afterwards and tossing it onto the pile of others. Alex had met the man once before and was just as disgusted by him then as he was now. Suddenly, the door to the room violently swung open as a castle servant rushed in.
The Earl bellowed at the servant, “WHAT?!” without waiting for a response, immediately diving into writing another letter.
“Sire, the guards are reporting that the Garden has caught on fire, should we send some to handle it.” The servant meekly replied.
The Earl seemed to freeze entirely, muttering something to himself, before barking out, “No. Order the guards to secure the perimeter, and the servants to put out the fire. They actually think they can trick me.”
“Sire, I don’t think that’s wi-”
“GET OUT!” the Earl said furiously, launching a paperweight at the rapidly closing door.
I’ll be damned, it actually worked.
The Elf must have noticed the giant smile adorning Alex’s face as she pulled Alex back from the peephole, whispering, “What is going on?”
Alex could see the anxiousness on her face, knowing that she was so close to her revenge, but he had a priority. “Promise me you will do exactly what I tell you to.”
The Elf reluctantly nodded her assurance, and Alex whispered, “Whatever happens, you will not kill him till I tell you to,” observing her for any sign of opposition.
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There was a hint of it, her gaze darting towards the door, her face tensing up as if she was about to burst through, but it disappeared as fast as it came. Satisfied, Alex shifted his attention back to the wall, trying to feel for a groove or a notch. His fingers ran over an indent, whose path formed a panel. He carefully pried at the panel with his nails, releasing it out of the socket and uncovering a row of books with their pages facing him. He saw a wire emanating from within a book’s pages. Alex passed the panel to the Elf and gestured her to move back till she was cloaked in darkness. He carefully pushed the book, causing the wall to pop open.
It only took him a few seconds to get adjusted to the light and when he did, Alex almost lost it when he saw Hastings’ face. But Alex remained poised, walking up to the Earl and quietly took the chair in front of him. Alex waited for the Earl to regain his cognitive abilities, putting his feet on the table.
Seeing this action, Hastings’ entire face turned red, his lips parting to scream, “G-” only to be pre-emptively cut him off by Alex mimicking the Earl’s own penetrating voice, “GUARDS!”
Instead of the sound of well-trained men marching through the halls, the only sound that reached Hastings’ ears was of the wind blowing outside. Knowing that, at the moment, he was at the mercy of the person sitting in front of him.
Hastings’ sighed, “Who are you and how much to make you go away?”
Alex simply stated, “Sire’s head would be sufficient,” staring into his eyes to observe his response. And what a response it was. Gone was the angry pompous little man from before, being replaced with the slimy scum Alex remembered, as he saw panic and terror fill up the Earl’s spineless body.
“At least that was the plan,” Alex remarked, getting up from the chair and moving to inspect the bookshelf where he appeared from, “But someone looking for you changed it at the last moment.”
Hastings’ let out a huge sigh of relief, “The church hired you, didn’t they? Thank Mercury,” putting on his shell once again, continuing, “You should learn how to treat your superiors, lest your sharp tongue meet the blade. Honestly, they keep on choosing worse and worse messengers.”
Alex blew the dust off the books, looking back at the Earl, who was now leaning back on his chair. “I volunteered.”
“What? Cease these games and just give me the message.” Desperation crept in with his voice.
“Considering our history, I’m not shocked you don’t remember me. I'm no one compared to you,” grinning as he uttered the last word. Alex watched as the gears in Hastings’ brain started to slowly turn.
“Nemo.”
“See? You’re not as dumb as people say. They thought you should know that someone will attempt to murder you today.”
Hastings remained silent, so much so that Alex thought he had accidentally killed him due to shock. He pushed against the bookshelf, checking to see its sturdiness as he waited for his response.
“How much did they pay you?” Hastings uttered. He was failing to keep his composure.
Alex replied,“I’m not allowed to say, and my contract doesn't involve assassination.”
“I’ll triple it,” Hastings responded.
“Like I said, I’m not killing you today.”
“My ears work perfectly. The money’s to hire you as a bodyguard.”
Alex thought about it for a moment. A bit of extra coin never hurt him, “Alright. If you can pay me right now, that is.”
Hastings pointed to his portrait, adding, “The combination is 7-8-9-99. Empty it.”
Alex walked over to the painting, pulling a knife out of the shadows and using it to gut the drawn earl. The canvas parted to reveal a gilded safe embedded into the wall. He rotated the dial to the combination, turning the handle easily. He scanned the contents of the safe, which varied from watches to gems, but only one thing caught his eye. A plain emerald necklace was strewn carelessly among the riches, and it pinged somewhere in his memory.
The Earl was starting to get impatient, “Is it to your liking or not?”
Alex closed the safe’s door, pocketing the necklace and walking back to the bookshelf, “Yes it is.”
“Good, then help me get out of this city,” hastily getting up from his chair, grabbing the envelopes on the table.
Alex thought for a moment before simply exclaiming “Sorry, I have other plans,” pulling the book down to reveal the concealed passage once more, “You can kill him now.”
The gears of the contraption creaked back to life, the sound quickly being followed by the sound of wood breaking on bone.
The Elf had moved faster than anything Alex had witnessed before. Hastings dropped to the floor, conscious but dazed, blood seeping through his hair. The Elf appeared from darkness, and the look on her face sent a chill down Alex’s spine. It was not one of anger, but something much more calm. She had replayed this moment hundreds of times in her mind, and the Elf walked like she knew exactly what she wanted to do.
The Elf shoved the table aside, giving Alex a better view of the show. She knelt next to the Earl and started slowly, plunging a knife into Hastings’s huge gut. It would be surprising if it hit anything important, but it had the desired effect. Hastings’ mouth opened to scream, yet nothing came out. The Elf pulled out another, using it to slice both of his Achilles’s tendons, all the while staring into his eyes as they begged for mercy. She stood up, giving the Earl some hope, only to crush it along with his left shoulder with the heel of her boot. She stepped over him as he writhed in pain, and stomped on his other shoulder with an even harsher snap, allowing Hastings’ scream to escape.
But her demeanour changed as the Earl screamed. Alex recognised the look on her face. Gone was the meticulous behaviour, being replaced with pure anger. The Elf pulled out another knife and used them both to make Hastings’ gut into a pincushion. In and out, the knives went, each time taking with them a piece of the Earl. But slowly the anger faded, as did the thrusts, and Hastings’ screaming stopped.
The Earl was silenced as his own blood filled up his lung, slowly choking him. But Alex was more interested in the Elf, who was looking at Hastings’s body as it went cold, having finally achieved her revenge. Her anger was replaced, not with happiness or relief but with a look of oblivion. As he watched her, Alex realized why his mind had compelled him to help her.
Almost like she reminds you of someone.