Deep in the pitch black sewers below the city of Matn, sat a demon staring up at a small pipe in which the faint glimmer of light had long since disappeared.
*lub-dub*
Ever so faint at first, a slow, bone-chilling, beat resonated through the tunnels.
*lub-dub*
At the exact time, the second beat took place a Small, red light flickered to life in Mor's eyes, piercing the darkness and slightly illuminating his gaunt, bone like face.
*lub-dub*
The brightness of the light increases as the heartbeat gains strength and speed.
Soon the entire area is illuminated in a blinding, blood red light as the sewage ripples in time with the monstrous beat.
*lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub* *lub-dub*
The water surrounding Mors jumps high into the air as red smoke seeps from Mors's body and rolls outwards and into the darkness.
*LUB-DUB*
A final, thunderous beat echoes off the walls as a wall of sewage is pushed away from Mors, crashing away into the tunnels.
The tunnel once again falls into dark silence as the light fades from Mors' eyes.
Standing up slowly, Mors puts his right hand on the tunnel wall and starts walking forward with steady, determined steps.
Without even slowing a fraction, four hours later, Mors' hand found an empty gap in the wall. Tentatively placing his foot outwards and feeling around, he found steps that lead upwards.
His Heavy footsteps echoed at a slow rhythmic pace as Mors climbed the stairs. After a couple of dozen steps, he spotted a faint yellow light being reflected from around a corner.
Turning the corner, Mors found a small room illuminated by a crystal hanging on the wall. Crates and barrels were piled up high along each wall.
Walking through the room, Mors spotted various contents spilling from opened crates. -"Smugglers."
Mors approached a large, metal door and gave it a push only to find it didn't budge. Stepping back a little, Mors rammed his shoulder into it, sending a now ruined padlock hurtling across an alleyway, embedding itself into the wall on the opposite side.
Rain poured down as flashes of lightening and the faint rumble of thunder assaulted Mors' senses.
Stepping out into the rain, Mors looked up at the stormy, night sky and slowly raised his arms as if welcoming it. However, his face remained as emotionless as stone.
Gradually Lowing his head, he scanned the dark alleyway, slightly illuminated by the streetlamps at either end before spotting a water barrel.
Putting his hands on the top of the barrel, Mors lifted himself up and into the barrel submerging himself up to his neck.
Looking around, Mors noticed that there were many wealthy, upper-class shops on either end of the alleyway, making him believe he was probably in a high-end shopping district before a moving light caught his attention.
Mors watched as a guard, carrying a crystal lamp, checked the outside of the shops one by one, muttering the occasional curse at towards the weather.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Just as the guard was about to pass the alley, he spotted Mors' eyes reflecting the light from the lamp and let out another barrage of curses before stomping over. "Just my fucking luck, Why do I have to find an abandoned dead body on a night like this? Can't those arseholes dump their slaves in the slums like everyone else? If the captain wasn't such a ball buster I could just pretend I hadn't seen it but nooo I will just get blamed for being incompetent and not seeing it."
Stopping directly next to the water barrel, the guard raised his lamp higher to get a good look at what he assumed to be a body.
The guard looked into Mors' unresponsive, indifferent, eyes causing a chill to run down his spine. Watching dumbstruck, what should have been a corpse in front of him blinked.
Exploding from the water Mors' hands grasped the man's head and twisted it abruptly, breaking his neck and sending him and his lamp falling to the floor.
Slowly Mors retracted his arms and began washing his body as he continued to gaze around as if nothing had happened.
After he had finished washing the filth from his body and hair, Mors got out of the barrel. Grabbing the dead guard's foot, Mors dragged him towards the sewer entrance.
Less than 10 minutes later, Mors emerged from the metal door wearing the guard's armour. Due to his gaunt physique, the clothing hung off his frame making Mors almost look comical.
Stepping out into the street, he immediately headed towards a shop with a cauldron and phial branded onto its plaque and knocked loudly on its door.
Even though they were in a prosperous area, Mors knew that it was still common for tradesmen to live and work in the same building, especially when they were located in the most expensive parts of the city.
Knocking again, this time with much more force, a man's voice could be heard. "I'm coming, I'm coming... who the hell wants to hammer on my door at this time of night... You better have a good...."
A thin man dressed in a nightgown opened the door complaining, however, the moment his and Mors' eyes met he fell silent. "...Dragon's eyes."
The man stepped backwards as Mors entered the shop, slowly closing the door behind him before he started following the man, causing him to retreat. "Please.... Take what you want. I promise I won't tell a soul about your heritage."
Mors opened his mouth, and a malicious voice poured forth. "Who else is here?"
The man's eyes went wide in fear and briefly flicked upwards, towards the second floor of the building.
Mors looked upwards as his eyes glowed a sinister red. "Get her... no noise... or you all die."
The man paled, and he took a step forward. "Please don't hurt her, she is fast asleep. She hasn't even seen your face."
"10." Mors started counting, confusing the man. "What?"
"..."
"9."
"..."
"8."
Stumbling on the first few steps, the man rushed up the stairs that were behind a counter littered with herbs and containers before swiftly returning with a small girl around the age of 10, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.