The Guild of the Forsaken

CHAPTER 5 - A Hole Where Your Soul Should Be

!TW: mentions of attempted rape, graphic description of torture and blood!

Blue Monday '88 - New Order

August 19th 2022

LONDON

Grey. The only word that came to Marinette's mind as she strolls along the currently deserted streets of London. Grey and Cold.

She shivers pulling the delicately crafted marron suit jacket closer to her body. It was part of a three-piece suit set she had spotted earlier in the week. The colour had taken Marinette's fancy immediately and she just had to buy it, despite the steep price tag.

Marinette reaches up and adjusts the black wide brimmed hat that sits atop her head, her hair was down in soft waves that reached just below her shoulders. The hat was being pushed back by the winds that were tearing through the streets.

Marinette did not want to lose her favourite hat.

Taking a sharp turn along another deserted street she pulls out her hip-flask from a conveniently hidden pocket in her blazer. Her black leather gloves preventing her from feeling the comforting coolness of the flask. She unscrews the top and takes a large gulp, promptly she spits it out and gags.

"What the actual fuck is that?" she exclaims to no one.

She makes use of the hive mind connection Chloé conveniently set up between all of them. Very useful for when you forget your phone or if someone messes with your drink.

'Alright, whom in the fuck messed with my flask!' Marinette all but screams into the connection.

Marinette continues strolling down the street staring incredulously at her hip-flask muttering soft apologies to it. She halts in her movements as she hears Alya speak.

'Ummm, that may have been me. I may have borrowed it last night when me and Nino went clubbing, and I may have mixed some type of gin and juice and put it in the flask.'

Marinette snarls, causing a young boy who was walking past Marinette to turn and stare at her. She rolls her eyes and pulls down her sunglasses revealing her black eyes, that were there as a result of the many daggers she had summoned earlier and hid about her person. She takes a step towards the boy causing him to scream and run off. Marinette snorts before regaining her glare and pushing her glasses back up.

'You did WHAT! And what about my Whiskey that was in there, don't tell me you threw that out. I swear to Kwami Alya! When I get my hands on you, I'm gonna-'

'Woah, Woah! No need to be rash, hey how about this; I'll buy you a new bottle of Whiskey before you get back so tonight you can have the good stuff.' Alya spoke in a tone akin to one that you would use to reason with a toddler having a tantrum or a wild animal you were trying to help. Marinette did not appreciate that.

Marinette frowns. 'Fine.' She spat, 'But it better be the good stuff.' Not bothering to wait for a reply Marinette cuts the connection.

She gazes softly at the silver flask in her hands. "Don't you worry, we shall have you cleansed of that nasty drink and get some proper alcohol in you soon enough."

As Marinette continues walking she observes how the clouds got darker with each click of her monk strap shoes. Maybe she was slightly overdressed to walk around the deserted streets of London but Marinette had learnt from Chloé to always look her best. So, she did.

Soon Marinette comes across a large park. On one side there was a large children's play park that was conveniently deserted. On the other side was a large grass expanse framed by a group of tall trees. Marinette surveys the open space making sure there are no unwanted eyes.