Northbound Pilgrimage II

Chapter LXVI - Memories

"Stop fucking squirming. It's not gonna help you."

Bishop hissed at the man below him with annoyance. "You're basically dead already, it's pointless."

The bandit still writhed and thrashed under him as he tried to escape, but it was no use. Bishop was straddling him firmly, holding him pinned to the ground by the weight while each of the man's wrists were gripped in Bishop's hands, pressed into the snow. He was utterly subdued, but he was still alive and very much conscious. That made things... uncomfortable.

He would have been dead by now. They weren't doing anything wrong. It wasn't some innocent civilian that they ambushed on the road. He had ambushed them along with his now dead friends. It wasn't the same like when Bishop used to do this shit for Thorn.

He knew that.

Besides there was no torture or ransom involved. It was just a couple of extra minutes. It couldn't even hurt that bad, could it?

It was just that... look. That look in the Dunmer's red eyes that was filled with so much panic and fear. That look in his eyes when he knew that he was going to die.

It brought back unpleasant memories.

"Get off me fucker! I'll make ya regret this ya stinkin' rotted horker! Yer gonna fuckin' wish ya killed me quick!" the bandit yelled at him in a screechy voice. Would knocking him out help? Bishop had no idea. And there was a chance that the blow would kill him with how beaten up he already was.

He just needed to wait.

"I'm sorry!" Aeyrin's familiar voice echoed from behind him at last, only a few moments later. He could already hear her rush through the snow, panting in exhaustion. It took a while for her to return, but now she finally appeared and promptly kneeled by the bandit's side with a Dwemer contraption in her hand.

"Your... pack..." she huffed, still trying to catch her breath. "It was... way over there. And almost... snowed under." She vaguely gestured in some random direction, but even though she was addressing Bishop, her eyes were fastened on the man on the ground with a deep frown on her face.

"The fuck is this?! Lemme go ya freaks! What are ya tryin' here?!" the man yelled, before he suddenly made a strange gurgling sound. Bishop had almost thought that Aeyrin was already getting to work, for a split second, but she didn't even move yet. Instead, a thick glob of spit landed on his cheek, followed by a malicious chuckle from the elf on the ground.

Bishop growled in frustration, but there was not much he could do. He had to hold the man's hands down. He had the urge to spit back on the elf, but... he would get worse in a second.

"I will gut ya both, just ya wait!" The bandit snarled again. Aeyrin was still kneeling there by his side with her eyes fastened on him. She clutched the contraption in her hands, but she made no motion to move. There was a palpably disturbed look on her face. The Dunmer was even making this seemingly easier by his constant threats and insults, but she still looked like she couldn't bring herself to act.

"He would be already dead," Bishop addressed her with as comforting a tone as he could muster. He understood. This was certainly different from the Falmer. And he knew how this all felt. He knew how doing much worse felt. But what else was there to do? Who else was there to use but the bloodthirsty bandits who had no qualms about attacking them, and probably doing much worse than robbing them blind. "For a good cause." He added resolutely.

Aeyrin finally tore her eyes from the Dunmer as she met Bishop's gaze. She wished that she had gotten to the bandit sooner so that Bishop would be the one who had to use that contraption. Then again... his position did not seem much better. Her expression was still disturbingly uncertain, but she managed to nod. There were a few clanking sounds for a bit as her armored hands shivered against the metal of the contraption, but soon, the bandit's shriek drowned everything else out. The needle entered his exposed neck and one of the tubes started to slowly fill with blood.