The Abyss Stares Back - 02
The carriage stopped outside the Kirkholm Imperial Watchtower, the command center for all the watchers in the city. Rain cascaded from the darkened heavens above and the rumble of a thunder rolled overhead. Sloan and Wulfgang stepped out to enter the imposing building, with the blackguard woman removing her large arsenal bag from the luggage compartment.
As they approached the large ornate wooden double doors they were met by other imperial watchers. A man and a woman who seemed suspicious of the dark woman who was very clearly armed to the teeth. But once she produced her badge they were quick to understand her presence there.
They were ushered inside where they were asked to be seated while a proper representative could be fetched. The process seemed a dreadfully long one as it took almost forty minutes to conjure up a lieutenant to meet with them. During this time Watcher Petersen sat upright and wide-eyed, uncertain of what was about to transpire. Sloan, however, used the time afforded to her to sleep.
Lieutenant Briston was a tall and burly man of human and half-elven descent. His thick black hair was neatly cut and his equally dark mustache was well trimmed, though his chin and cheeks were covered in heavy stubbles. His eyes were green but cold as he stared at the two of them.
“It is eleven in the evening. Can this not wait until the morning?” he said gruffly.
Sloan stood up and stretched as she did. “I wish we could, but my order was contacted by your agency regarding a string of murders you’ve been having and a deranged individual that you have in your custody that you suspect to be not only guilty of the deeds but also to be of…an unnatural persuasion.”
Lieutenant Briston cocked an eyebrow and looked at Wulfgang for a moment. “We do…though I don’t think we can share details of the investigation yet.”
“But you are obliged, by imperial law, to aid a blackguard such as myself in the event of abyssal influence and if you have an individual who may be under said abyssal influence then you are required to let me inspect them.”
The lieutenant winced at the command, like it physically hurt him to hear someone outside of his agency recite the law to him. “And what do you want with this individual? They’ve been entirely uncooperative during questioning and have proven…dangerous.”
Sloan smirked. “Why that sounds like something that falls under my domain. I will inspect the individual for signs of…influence.”
“What kind of influence?”
“Demonic influence.”
The man’s eyes widened at the word and for a moment Sloan could see him go from shock, to disbelief to something that might constitute understanding.
“And if he demonstrates signs of…demonic influence…what will you do?”
“Kill him, of course.”
“He’s suspected of murder, we need him for questioning.”
“And I will do my utmost to question him before killing him. But otherwise you have people at your disposal that can speak with the dead, yes?”
The lieutenant begrudgingly nodded. “And what if you’re wrong?”
“I’m never wrong about these things. This is what we do.”
The two maintained an intense stare before the lieutenant turned on his heel. “Follow me.”
They marched through the station with imperial watchers of the night shift staring at them as they walked past. Beyond the lobby there was a large open-space office where multiple desks formed a grid, only a handful of souls still remained at this late hour. Past the office they were led into and down a stairwell and from there they passed through the subterranean jail, with holding cells lining both sides of the darkened corridor. The barred cells, designed for visibility, contained multiple people of various species and ethnicities, all staring back at them in surprise and intrigue. The cells held a number of humans and half-elves as well as couple of halfings and dwarves, all of which were a common sight in the Duhain Empire. However, somewhat to Sloan’s surprise she saw a few who were not so common. A ruukai duo lay in one cell, one a female goblin and the other a large orc man. In another cell Sloan spotted a lupine looking ferali person, whose gender seemed as ambiguous as the coy smile they gave back.
“Through here.” Said the lieutenant as he led them to another stairwell, this one leading them even further down.
At the bottom they found a sturdy metal door with a very intricate lock, to which the lieutenant had a key. Past the door they found themselves in a dark, bricked corridor with only a few heavy metal doors lining each side. These were higher security cells that only had a slat that could be opened and closed, leaving the prisoner within in darkness.
“This one.” Said Lieutenant Briston as he planted himself next to one of the cell doors. “Do you need me to…”
But Sloan already knew what he was asking. “Not yet. No need to open the door right away. I’ll see what I can discern through the slat.
The lieutenant nodded and stood aside. Sloan looked at her liaison who looked absolutely terrified. “You can wait for me upstairs if you wish.”
Wulf looked at her, then at the lieutenant and then back at her, before shaking his head.
“Alrighty then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She then unlatched the slat and opened it, sliding it to the side. A foul stench wafted out from the tiny opening, making her wrinkle her nose. The two watchers had to pinch their noses to keep the nausea at bay. Within she found a sparse holding cell engulfed in darkness. And while the two watchers surely couldn’t see much in there, she however could. With only a mattress, a blanket and a bucket filling the room it didn’t take her long to locate a huddled mass laying underneath the blanket. The bucket, however, had been knocked to its side with dark stains splattered on the floor and wall. Lovely, Sloan thought.
“Helloooo, anyone there?”
The mass didn’t move.
“I hear you went on a little bit a killing spree. You wanna tell me about it?”
Silence was all she was greeted with.
“If the reports are correct you killed up to five different people?”
She looked to the lieutenant for confirmation and he tilted his hand back and forth in response.
“Why did you kill them?”
The figure remained unmoved.
“Answer her, you filth!” said the lieutenant as he slammed his baton into the iron door.
Nothing.
“I think I’m gonna have to go in there. Inspect them myself.”
“Alright, but be warned. Last we saw them they were covered in their own excrement.”
Sloan frowned at that. “Great.”
Lieutenant Briston inserted the thick iron key into the lock and twisted it, the shift of metallic tumblers echoing through the subterranean hallway. The human man looked at Sloan with doubt in his eyes but upon seeing the lack of tension in her posture seemed to put him somewhat at ease.
She had taken off her long black coat, revealing a leather vest underneath, enveloping a white shirt which had seen better days. She rolled up her sleeves and then picked up a keyring from her pocket, only it didn’t have any keys on it. Instead it seemed to hold various thin trinkets made of tin. Lieutenant Briston didn’t realize what it was but Watcher Wulfgang Petersen knew. For each of the trinkets bore a symbol and he recognized some of them.
“Are those divine symbols?” he asked.
Sloan nodded. “They are indeed.”
“Didn’t take you for a religious person.” Said the lieutenant.
“Well, they aren’t for me. They are for him.” She nodded towards the door before she knelt down and removed a large cleaver from her arsenal bag.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” said Lieutenant Briston with panic in his eyes. “What do you think you’re gonna do with that?”
Sloan sighed. “If the subject has succumbed to infernal influence they must be put down.”
The lieutenant shook his head. “Absolutely not! If they committed those murders then they must be tried! Demon or no demon, justice must be upheld.”
“Justice?” asked Sloan as she handed her arsenal bag to Wulf, her liaison. She then leaned up against the wall as she flipped through a number of holy symbols on her keyring. “Are you familiar with the Age of Demons?”
“Sure.” Shrugged the lieutenant. “Everyone is.”
“Mostly through stories passed down by your nan or something like that, yeah?” When the lieutenant didn’t offer an answer she continued. “Well, consider this a history lesson. Some eight-thousand years ago a group of mages wanted to create their own language of power. And they succeeded. In fact they succeeded so well that the utterance of a simple syllable was enough to create life from nothing. And thus the demons were born and the language became known as the infernal tongue. Do you know why the infernal tongue is forbidden still to this day?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Because demonkind proved to be so destructive that they nearly destroy the entire world. And ever since then the blackguard have existed for one primary purpose.”
She casually pushed herself off the wall and took a confident step forward. Lieutenant Briston stepped back while resting his hand on the hilt of his revolver. Sloan smiled, baring her sharp teeth.
“To hunt and kill demons and anyone infected by their influence so that the Age of Demons can never repeat itself. Now step aside and let me uphold the law.”
Lieutenant Briston nervously glanced at Wulf before ultimately stepping aside. Sloan nodded approvingly. She then gripped the handle of the door and opened it.
The door was heavy and its hinges creaked. And with its opening the magnitude of the cell’s stench assaulted them in full force. The two imperial watchers pulled out handkerchiefs and covered their noses and mouthes in disgust. Sloan tried to breathe through her mouth.
She stepped carefully into the cell. Her eyes locked on the shape huddled under the blanket, carefully avoiding eye contact with the overturned bucket.
“Wakey wakey.” She said, loud and clear as she took another two steps into the cell. “We need to have a talk, you and…”
But her voice faltered. Something was wrong. She couldn’t pinpoint what but something was off. Now that she was in there the huddled shape looked too small and there was this faint noise coming from…somewhere else.
Sloan turned around and found only the front of the cell and the open doorway, the two watchers standing on the other side. It was then that her peripheral vision caught something. Some dark shape, in the upper corner next to the door.
She looked up and felt her heart skip a beat as she saw a humanoid shape clinging to the walls, pressed up towards the ceiling like a spider. The figure looked half-elven, with unkempt, wiry hair that covered most of their face and its clothes were ripped and stained with blood and feces. Its fingers had been chewed to the bone and upon its face it wore a sickening bloodied smile. Its two eyes stared back at her with manic glee and for a moment the world stood still.
The two watchers, noticing her upward gaze, realized that something was terribly wrong. But before anyone could react, the creature shrieked and dropped.
In a flash, in lunged at Sloan, attempting to drive the sharpened stumps of its fingers into her eyes and face. But instinct kicked in and Sloan swiped her cleaver in a decisive downward arc, severing the creature’s left arm at the elbow.
The creature recoiled and laughed. Watcher Petersen quickly darted behind the steel door as Lieutenant Briston pulled out his revolver. Sensing danger the creature reeled back with unnerving speed before rushing at the lieutenant and driving its remaining hand into his shoulder. Its gnawed finger bones puncturing through clothing and skin. The lieutenant screamed just as the door to the hallway opened up and a young watcher woman stepped in and immediately froze. Her big green eyes growing even bigger at the grizzly sight.
The creature, wearing the twisted face of a half-elven man, sneered at her and chuckled.
“Next?” it muttered, spitting out blood as it did.
Lieutenant Briston pushed the creature off him just as Sloan rushed out and cleaved the creature’s head off of its body. For one sickening moment the headless body remained standing and all four of them wondered if the fight was about to continue. But then the corpse collapsed to the floor, dead.
“Shit.” Said Sloan, looking at her keyring. “I didn’t get to ask it any of my questions.”
“What was that?” asked the watcher woman, who had pulled out a blade by sheer instinct.
“Lieutenant?! You okay?” asked Wulf, panicked.
The wounded human man pressed his free hand against his bloodied shoulder. “I’ll be fine. For Furia’s sake. Why’d you have to go in there!?”
“I’m gonna need to see the body.” Said Sloan, as if she hadn’t heard the question.
“The body?”
“The last victim. Or any of the other victims if you have on hand. I can’t talk to the dead, but their bodies typically speak volumes.”
