The Carrion's Craft

Chapter 15

The bullet fired with a deafening bang. I remember the sudden flash of the barrel blinded me like the Breanen sun. The cascade of light was unordinary to my eye. Not even a second later and a fountain of blood spurted from the Soul Snatcher's corpse. My reaction was mute, I wanted to run, to crawl away or cry for aid, but my body didn't respond to me, not even when the Boggart's slimy hands grabbed me by the pits and hoisted me to my feet.

The next events were a whirr, as Gangerren dragged me out of the apartment and down the hallway and into the office downstairs. It was a bloodbath. Mishava knew I would be here, and that the guard would help me. The walls were plastered with blood, and no number of hunters on the scene could hide the grim remains of the helpful man.

Some of the men looked at me, others whooped or hollered to my captor who kept a tight grasp on me. Perhaps he expected me to run - as if I had the strength or will to charge through the wall of guns and muscle that stood in the way of the door. The Boggart must have said something over the ringing in my ear, as their hardened faces softened into an obedient inquisitiveness, moving aside for us to barge through the door.

I felt the cool air of the evening before I was bundled into a lukewarm carriage. The leather seats squeaked beneath our weight as if in protest of our presence. It practically took all of my strength to put Iric and the camera on the seat beside me whilst Gangerren jumped in and clicked the door shut. Strange enough the sound of the door closing was the clearest noise I heard. The Inquisitor slid open a small divider behind him, "Take us to the Firelight Inn." He said, and within an instant the vehicle jerked forward, clacking against the rough cobblestone road.

"You shot her." Iric said. His voice was distant and shaky, was he reeling from this experience as much as I? I couldn't judge him for it. It seemed that our very existences were hanging on by a thread in the air.

"I did. Trust me, it'll look better in the reports." The Boggart said with a nonchalant shrug. His gun never left his palm, clacking against his lap as his hand returned to his leg.

"What're you going to do to us?" I whispered. The sickening feeling in my belly was festering, I was afraid that death was pending, and that at any moment, a second gunshot would ripple through the carriage - without my knowledge, or sound - just a flash of light, and then nothing.

"The boss wants to speak with you." He muttered, a flashed of a grin failed to comfort me, or maybe he was just successful in unnerving me to a greater degree.

The rest of the journey rattled by in dreadful silence. I was aggrieved with a stifling ailment. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead and stuck my clothes to my back. It was like sticking your head in an oven, baking me alive and frying my conscience into a malleable mesh. Eventually, I felt the carriage slow to a stop, the silence of the horses' hooves informed me that we had arrived.

Gangerren waved his hand, indicating for me to take the camera and the crow before leaving. Opening the door, I was overwhelmed by the relief of the night air on my face, wiping at my brow, I recognised the street corner that the driver had parked us at. We were on the corner of Happy Lane, the location where this nightmare began. It was dark now, and a yellow neon light glared in my face, blinding me enough for a pair of disembodied hands to grab me by the collar and pull me onto the pavement below. A distant chanting snatched my attention, it sounded like a crowd, protesting in the name of Elisa Stragard. 

For a second, the thought to cry out crossed my mind, to gain the do-gooder's attention and blow the whistle on this operation. But no sooner had the notion weaselled into my head, was it snuffed out as two men grabbed me by the pits and tossed me through an open set of double doors. My hands scuffed on the rough floor boards, sending a searing pain to sprout through my open wound. The ruffle of feathers and the slamming of doors told me that Iric was unharmed and escaping was unlikely.