Amicia woke up slowly. Her head was pounding. There was a dull ache in her jaw when she moved it. Around her, there were shelves and shelves filled with books. There were warm lights above her illuminating the room. A large table sat in the center of the room and she was placed in one of the seats of the circular table. Amicia wanted to get up, but she was still so tired. It was like she was completely zapped of any energy she had earlier today. She was getting sick of passing out in one place and waking up in another. It seemed to be happening much more often now that she was on her own. Maybe if she just closed her eyes right now, she’d wake back up in her warm bed at home. She’d wake up and visit Lily and Blossom. They’d all have a nice pleasant day in the park. Amicia heard the sound of a door swinging open. Her eyelids refused to remain open any longer, but she caught a glimpse of a man setting down a tray on the table before she drifted back to sleep.
Amicia woke up yet again. She was still at the same table. Clearly luck wasn’t on her side. She felt better than last time at least. The headache had receded slightly and the pain in her knee felt muted. How long had she been asleep?
“Ah you’re awake. Very good. I was worried I had gone through all that trouble for nothing.” a voice said.
Amicia’s voice was raspy as she asked “Who are you?”
The man who kidnapped her was sitting across the table. He had changed while she was passed out. He had a fresh bandage on his arm. A simple dress shirt and comfortable slacks were all that he wore now.
“A good question,” he said. His voice held a trace of an accent, perhaps Dominican in origin. “My name is Esteban Romero.”
“Why did you kidnap me?”
“Another good question. I expect nothing less from a reporter such as yourself Miss Danvers.”
He called her Danvers. He didn’t know who she actually was. If he didn’t know, why had he run her off the road? Alicia Danvers didn’t exist until she’d gotten that fake I.D on the train into Knoxville.
Esteban got up from his seat. He grabbed a pitcher of water on the table and poured it into a glass. “Have a drink. You’ve been sleeping for quite a while. At least a day.”
That explained why her back felt so sore. Sleeping in a chair couldn’t be good for her. Then again, being run off the road by a madman was probably worse. He offered the glass to her. She was so parched. She tried to reach up to the glass, but she couldn’t move. Looking down, Amicia saw that both her hands were tied to the arms of the chair.
The man said “Ah, how silly of me. You’ll have to do without your hands. For your safety and mine, I needed to make sure you would not try anything rash. You’ve proven to be quite resourceful Miss Danvers.”
He moved closer to her, bringing the glass of water to her lips. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but she still drank when he tipped the rim of the glass towards her. She gulped down the water, hoping that the fluids would help her headache. After she finished drinking, Esteban sat back down.
“Why did you kidnap me?” Amicia demanded again. She said it with more heat in her voice this time. She felt just good enough to start being angry.
The man chuckled. He placed one knee on top of the other. “Most people in your position would be afraid, but not you Miss Danvers. No, I can tell. You’ve got a fire within.” he said. He spoke with a facade of calm and mirth, but there was a certain tension in his movements. His hands were clenched tight around one another.
He continued on, “You know, my daughter is like you in that way. All fire and passion. My dear Rosa.” He shook his head. “She was a hellion in her youth. It was hard to keep her focused, but a man has his duties. I taught her to keep a level head, temper her energies.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this? What does any of that have to do with me?” Amicia asked.
The man held up a palm forcefully to cut her off. “My Rosa. She was doing so well. I thought that she was ready to leave the nest. That she had matured enough to make her own choices. Then. Then that article came out and I realized how mistaken I was in my judgment.”
“Jeff’s article?” Amicia asked.
He nodded. “You see, Rosa ran off during one of my trips out of state. She was nowhere to be found when I returned to the states. I searched through her things. She was digging through Jeff Lennarts life. I went through many photos of Lennart she had taken, but it appears she eventually moved on. He didn’t have any real information she wanted. Instead, she broke into my office and scoured through my files. A daring venture. She knew I would punish her for such a transgression, but she was desperate. She wanted to find it, the skinless demon.”
“Wait, demon? What are you talking about? You’re crazy!”
“There is no need to lie to me. I know about the demon in Walland. Just as I know its presence is why you’re here,” the man said with a smile. He abruptly got up from his chair and walked over to one of the shelves. Pulling down a book, he flipped through its pages until he found something and placed the book in front of Amicia.
There was an old photograph of a young boy with a man in his 30s on the page. There was a clear resemblance between the two. They were in the middle of the woods. The pair stood over the corpse of a creature that looked like a cross of a gargantuan centipede and a bat. Every few sections of its torso, a pair of wings could be seen sprouting from its body. Wings made from chitin and flesh. The man in the picture beamed with happiness. The boy held a bloody spear in his hands and he looked to be on the verge of tears.
“Me and my father.” he said, pointing at the picture “I was just a boy then. Mi papa left me in the jungle one day. He wanted me to hunt the soul sucker by myself. He told me he’d be back in 2 days. By then I would either be a son he could be proud of or a son he would mourn for. I spent the first day crying and pissing myself over every little noise. Then the monster came for my life on the second day. I came to understand that only one of us would leave that jungle alive and I triumphed in the end. Mi papa was tough on me, but he trained me well.”
Esteban closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed that he was picturing the memory in his mind. “I can still feel it. The overwhelming fear I had before I jumped down with my spear, piercing it from above. The rush as the tip went through its head. The roar of victory I screamed when I realized I had killed it. It still gives me shivers after all these years.”
He closed the book. His lips quirked up in a smirk. “Of course, I emptied my stomach on the floor after I had calmed down. Later, My father came to pick me up. That was when we took the picture. He had brothers growing up, but they had failed. I had brothers I never met as well. He took me to their graves in that jungle. Out of all of them, I was the one destined for glory.”
Esteban spoke fondly of his childhood. Amicia was repulsed and disgusted by his story. What sort of father sent his child, a boy that looked no older than 10, into the wild to kill a variant by himself. It was stupid. It was reckless. Quite frankly, that Esteban hadn’t died was a miracle. Then there was what he said about his brothers. Was this his family's legacy? The man said he had a daughter, Rosa. What was her childhood like?
“There is a certain satisfaction I take from my line of work. ” Esteban said. He poured himself a glass of water and took a sip. “Rosa does not have the same killer instinct as a Romero man does. I allowed her to observe my work, but never to join. I call her daughter, but she is not of my blood.”
Amicia quietly said, “I thought Rosa was all fire and passion.”
He explained, “Fire and passion have no business in my work. Fire and passion lead to mistakes. I brought Rosa into my family after both her parents died in Arlington. They were colleagues of mine. They pleaded for my help with a particularly deadly creature, but I was unable to join them as fast as they had hoped. You see, the demon had taken a family. Rosa’s parents were impatient. The creature lured them in with the pained cries of the family and the two of them charged into its lair, hoping to save the family. Just like Rosa, they were filled with fire and passion. In the end, their passion only left an orphaned daughter.”
While Esteban spoke, Amicia silently tugged at the ropes binding her to the chair, testing for weak spots. She tried to find a way to escape her bonds. Esteban was momentarily distracted by his story and she needed to take advantage. She wasn’t sure if him telling her all of this was good or bad, but she had a bad feeling in her gut. Dangerous people didn’t tell you their life stories unless they were absolutely sure you wouldn’t be a problem for them down the line.
Amicia was strapped in tight. Her legs were tied together but not bound to the chair. Her torso was free at least. He must’ve thought tying her hands to the chair would be good enough. A look around the table showed multiple chairs that were nearly identical. They also seemed identically old. While her hands were strapped in tight, she could feel the arm of the chair wobble slightly as she pulled at it. If she could get a moment alone, maybe she could throw herself against the table? Break one of the arms of the chair and go from there.
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Amicia stopped tugging as Esteban gave her his attention. “A Romero man would’ve stayed back and not fallen for a trap set by a demon. Never let them choose the point of engagement. Keep a cool head. Always strike first and only strike once. These are the tenets a Romero adheres to. There is a fire within her, but in the end she is simply a girl. This is why I refused to train her as mi papa trained me. She was never destined for greatness like Romero are. She should’ve led a simple life filled with children and work. Instead-”
He paused.
“Instead what?” Amicia asked. She completely relaxed her body. She didn’t want to let him know what she was doing.
Esteban turned to her, adjusting his glasses. His face seemed calm but his eyes held a cold anger in them. “Instead, Rosa did something foolish. She sought you.”
“Me? I don’t understand.”
He smiled at her with no hint of the warmth he had as he was describing his childhood. “Stop playing coy with me Danvers.” He stood up, taking the book with him. “I know about you and your little society. The Court of Diogenes.”
Esteban headed towards another section of the library. He was out of Amicia’s sight for moments before returning with a scroll in his hand. The scroll was… new? Without a closer look someone would assume the thing was ancient, but there were signs that its appearance was manufactured. It was artificially aged and crinkled. Why would a scroll be crinkled that much?
He opened the scroll. It unfurled into a sheet about 2 feet long. There were 3 images shown on it. The first depicted a demon devouring a roman centurion. It had 6 wings and a serpent’s body. A tongue flickered out from its mouth, bisecting a soldier in half. The second showed 7 hooded figures holding lanterns. The figures aimed the lanterns towards the demon and black plumes of smoke came off of its body as it wailed in pain. The smoke then drifted back towards the lanterns. The last picture showed one of the hooded figures sprouting wings from their back as the others bowed to them in submission.
Amicia didn’t notice it at first, but the outer borders of the scroll merged with the 3 scenes to form a lantern. At the bottom, there was a handwritten message. Where may one find an honest man? Nowhere.
Esteban tossed the scroll on the table. “I took this off one of your friends. He was the third man I killed. He also promised me he had no knowledge of demons. I found this in his truck after I disposed of him. As I went through Rosa’s things, I found little lanterns drawn throughout her schoolwork. I know her heart. She craves revenge against the monsters for killing her mother and father. She knows she cannot do it by herself. She is not a great hunter like me. So she has joined hands with fools. A cult filled with idiots. If she has truly fallen for their absurdity, my hands will be forced and I will reunite her with her parents. I’ll ask you once more, where is she?”
His demand was made calmly. He didn’t scream at her nor did he pound the desk. He was in full control of his emotions, but she could tell he was furious by the look of his eyes. His adopted daughter Rosa had broken trust with him. She was working together with some cult to absorb the powers of the variant. Amicia had never heard of anything like this before. Araña’s notes had never mentioned anything like the Court of Diogenes. Societies of people with esoteric powers had existed, but one that actually tried to absorb the essence of variants? That sounded truly insane.
Amicia put on a terrified face. “Please, you have to believe me. I’m not part of any cult. I just came to Walland to interview Jeff for my story. I thought the flagpole thing and the skin would get me a promotion!”
After a moment, He leaned back in his chair. “Do you know why I don’t believe you, Danvers? I spotted you visiting Daphne Stevenson. The other cultists did as well. I caught one of them half a block away. Why would you visit her if you were not with them? There is nothing online or in police files about Daphne. I am sure of that. My father killed the original demon here in Walland almost 60 years ago. He went through alot of trouble to erase any evidence. In fact the only people who would know about Daphne are Rosa and her new friends. I’m sure she has shared my files with them. Yet where do you run off to the day after being attacked by a man with no skin? Daphne Stevenson.”
“You know about that?”
He nodded “I do. Your encounter with the principal made quite the buzz. Explain it to me. How does a reporter from Serenity make a connection no one else ever has?”
Think fast Amicia. “I - I just found a tape someone sent to the station. It was in our backroom. An interview with Daphne and a doctor, talking about how she murdered her husband. She said she woke up with his skin laying on her. My boss wanted me to interview her about being sent to an asylum. Finding out about Jeff’s article and the skinless man was just a coincidence!”
“A coincidence?” he replied with sarcasm in his voice. “Where is this supposed tape now?”
“The original is still in Serenity, with my editor. I have a copy of it on my phone.”
Esteban reached into his pocket, pulling out her phone. “Your pass-code, Miss Danvers.”
She told him the code. While she was tweaking around with the program Araña had left her, one of the features she’d discovered was the program could load in a different interface if she used an alternate passcode. Her real passcode would give her full access, while her backups hid any information hinting at her personal details.
“It’s under the voice memos.” she offered.
Esteban played the recording with Daphne. He listened with a blank expression. When he was finished, he regarded Amicia again.
Amicia said “See? I told you. I’m not in any kind of cult. I don’t know where your daughter is. I’ve never met her. Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this.”
“It’s a very compelling tale, Miss Danvers. You tell it well. Yet your little tape doesn’t explain this.” Esteban held up a knife. Her brother’s knife. He leveled it plainly at his eye level. “There’s something very peculiar about it, no? The steel. My father had an axe made of a similar material. He told me it was made to fight demons. With it, he could turn even the most fearsome of monsters into mewling prey. The metal would poison them from the inside out and burn them from within. In his later years, he lost the axe during a hunt, along with his hand. Even the best blade in the world means nothing when age takes your speed. He could never find another quite like it. This knife of yours is a very useful tool. Like my father’s axe, it was made to vanquish demons, but it could also be used to subdue them. Could it not? An enterprising woman such as yourself could not be ignorant of having such an item.”
“I’m telling you I -”
He put up a hand, cutting her off again. “Enough. I look into your eyes and I do not see the fear a woman in your position should have. I am not an unkind man. Tell me where your friends and Rosa are and I will reward you with the chance to flee. In fact, I would be happy if you were to run tonight. I could indulge myself in chasing a human after I have finished my business here.”
“You’re so convinced I’m one of them but what if you’re wrong?” Amicia asked.
The man shrugged. “Then I will say a few graces during my supper. Mi papa taught me sacrifices must be made. “
Amicia didn’t know what to do. The man was clearly insane. He just admitted that it didn't even matter to him if she was really in this cult or if she even had any information. What did he want her to say? What could she say? A part of her wanted to tell him she hunted variants like he did. Would that get him to let her go? No. She couldn’t. Esteban Romero was a monster and nothing like her mentor.
My god, the way he talked about Rosa’s parents. He implied they were idiots. He insulted the memory of their deaths. Rosa’s parents were brave people, willing to risk their lives for others. Araña or Amicia’s brother would’ve done the same. They would’ve done it to give that family a chance. This man before her was nothing like them. He only hunted monsters for the glory of his family’s legacy.
Amicia stared at him. This was someone to be wary of. Esteban Romero had the exterior of a cool, collected gentleman. From the outside, people would assume he was a literature professor, someone who fed birds in the park. Amicia saw what he truly was. A big game hunter with a chip on his shoulder, angry that a teenage girl would dare to disobey him. There was a fundamental difference between him and Amicia. She couldn’t trust him.
Amicia glanced around the room. She hadn’t understood what everything was before, but she saw it now. The man took trophies from the variants. There were tusks, feathers, and other items scattered around the library. Araña had never taken anything from the variants. In fact, he insisted on always burning the remnants of their existence. That was one of the first lessons he taught her.
In one of the handwritten files Araña had left her, one of the variant types noted were Necro Titans. Variants that spawned you buried the corpses of other variants together. Araña had told her there used to be orders dedicated to killing variants throughout history. One order chapter newly arrived in America had foolishly buried all of the variants they killed in a single mass grave near a church. That order lost their entire chapter and England lost an entire colony in Roanoke when the corpses of the variants fused into a Necro Titan. The order sent in 3 ships of soldiers after the Necro Titan when they learned what happened.
Esteban assured her, “There is no escape.” He’d noticed her eyes darting about the room. “Tell me what you know and I’ll escort you out myself.”
Amicia looked him straight in the eye. With as much conviction as she could muster, she said, “I don’t know where they are. I don’t know where your daughter is! That’s the truth.”
Esteban shook his head, tutting at her. He grabbed the pitcher of water on the table. Next, he pulled out a rag from his pocket. He held them up to Amicia, presenting them. “I believe I offered you a drink earlier. I did so as an act of hospitality. You will tell me what I want to know or I show even more of my hospitality. People have found it to be quite, suffocating.”
Esteban let the implications hang in the air. Amicia felt a chill run through her as she translated the meaning behind his words. If she didn’t tell him what he wanted to know, he would waterboard her. It was a barbaric form of torture known for breaking people to their core. She’d be kept on the crux of drowning as water filled her mouth and nose. She wouldn’t be allowed to inhale or exhale. Surely the man knew people who were tortured that way would say anything to make it stop. Did a man like Esteban care about that?
Esteban set both the pitcher and the rag down. “I’ll leave you to consider your options. Ultimately, you will decide whether this night will be pleasant or painful.”