Deep red liquid drowned her fair fingers and an agonizing scream followed that.
“I didn’t do it! Please, I swear on my famil- I swear on the gods above! I didn’t do it.” It was pathetic enough to see a grown man who has enough muscles to send her frail body miles away with a soft punch - if she let him do so - break down in tears and soft demands of freedom.
The small cell - adorned in grey harsh walls and nails implemented deep on one side of the room with a soft washed color of red that left the imagination run wild with what could it have been used for - had a strong smell of decaying corpses and lost lives, but that didn’t matter for her.
The only source of light was a tiny window close to the ceiling but out of anyone’s reach. It had the width of a man’s hand and the height of a grown mouse. It was small enough to let someone’s hopes crush at the thought of no escape.
“London, again,” She ordered. No one had the speed of reacting yet as a strong whiplash hit the man to face the ground. The scars deep and red, running blood covered his knees and back, it was a miracle that the man didn’t drop dead with blood loss. Some of his old uncleaned injuries were beginning to rotten or get infected by some kind of disease as colors were going from red to shades of greens and blues.
He wanted to beg- he appeared he wanted to do so - but his words were caught in his throat as he raised his head with his greatest efforts to look at the young lady in front of him.
Her figure was covered with a huge cloak of dark clothes. Her relaxed arms rested on armrests, back straight and head looking down at him. Her eyes were a little difficult to see since the cloak hood covered her face, but with one movement they shone in the darkness, making him wish he didn’t catch the sight of them.
She had eyes darker than nightmares, almost lucid-like, the more he looked at them the more he felt like he was hypnotized. Light didn’t exist in her eyes. She caught his gaze but her expression didn’t change. She didn’t hold amusement or hatred, rather she looked empty and lifeless.
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Even if he didn’t have the right to do so, for a tiny moment, he felt pity.
But right after that moment, the young lady raised her hand which cut off his last source of life.
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Winter came without a warning. The evening seemed to seep in through the walls and cover up the corners of the streets that lanterns weren’t able to light up. Weirdly, in such a cold and dark night, a crowd of people seemed to be busy talking and mingling with each other while others were just walking by.
A figure walked into a stray alley located in the outskirts of the bustling town. The gentle taps of quick footsteps were skillfully obscure despite the small water ponds that scattered left and right in every turn. If not for the small puffs of fog coming out of that person’s mouth, one wouldn’t think they were breathing.
With each turn, the darker the road got. Light almost didn’t reach the end of the blocked alley, for there was a fake roof with scarves and other types of fabrics.
The quick steps slowly turned into slow walk until they finally stopped in front of a woman dressed in red. The red attired - that was noticeably wearing something that didn’t fit with the bone-freezing weather - woman pulled a soft smile as the shadowed figure entered her view. She chuckled softly before opening her arms.
“And to whom may I owe this honour of receiving such a glamorous guest?” Her words were tinted with obvious sarcasm and fake flattery. But the other person didn’t seem to appreciate her words one bit.
“Carl, I need to meet Carl.” The stiff and low tone was colder than the weather, sending chills running through people’s body.
“Why so anxious, darling?” Noticing that her open arms didn’t meet anyone, she closed them around each other, tilting her head to the side with amused light flashed through them.
The black-clothed figure sighed and walked into a dimly lit corner revealing a messy mass of blonde hair and vivid blue eyes of a man as tall as a pillar with sharp features and a poker face. His eyes, in that moment, looked as if they would kill a person. His cheekbones were high only giving his face structure more of a stoic look.
Seeing as the large person in front of her looking all serious, she sighed in disdain and all the amusement she had in her went out of the window. She raised a dirtied gray curtain, covering an open door. “Go this way,” she said.
She didn’t get to say anything else before the man was buried deep inside the darkness as he walked into the entrance, not forgetting to throw a few notes of cash on the ground.
The vanished amusement made its way back on her face as she picked up the bank notes and slowly counted each one of them with care and love, forgetting all about what just happened.