CHAPTER TWELVE
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The feeling of restraint. Something no being in existence wants to feel for any reason. Even if they are tied or trapped for a perfectly good reason. Interesting enough, the single thing that The Hominum Tier couldn't grasp, was the more soldiers they send to kill the enemy, the more the enemy grew. An advantage to what the humans perceive as a foe. The ability to reproduce and convert; something the humans only achieved half of. Death cannot experience life again. After death, it's final, but one thing all living beings have in common, is that death cannot be avoided. There are only two sides to the coin of death, and they are as opposite as heads and tails. Peacefulness or suffering. These two humans, bounded before death, waiting for their fate as Death himself was quickly making his way to them. Just as their fate.
"Sir 18, we have taken three..."
Towards the minster, they made their way, 18 and the Tier Guard Sir Clement. "Unfortunately, one was being a little... disobedient, so we executed him."
Converting humans were a task, but if it benefited the Tier, there was no such thing. While Madam Elenora rested in the hotel, a cast holding her left arm and tied around her neck, The Tier Head had left to take care of another task, leaving Madam Charlotte to watch her soul.
"There's only two left, sir... A male and a female."
"That will have to do. Thank you, Sir Clement. Has there been any news from the other holds yet?" 18 asked.
"Yes, sir." Clement replied. "The... West hold has already successfully secured an area. No activity."
"Good."
The humans were like two dying fishes, the oxygen mask hooked to their mouths, bound up and defenseless, soon to have the air stripped from them.
"Let us go!" The woman screamed. "Please! We'll do anything! Oh god, please just let us go!"
"Silentium, human." Italus spat. "Or you'll end up like your friend." He uttered in a casual monotone voice. The man adjusted the lined metals on his coat, and waited to commence with the conversion. Italus felt like he couldn't talk to them until it was time. Not an order from The Tier Head, but from himself. Interrogation, then conversion, simple. He favored the humans that simply stood silent and accepted their defeat. It's the jerking, disobedient and unnecessarily loud Hominums he hated. They never killed the silent ones, hesitating to take the lives of hateful humans but pulling through if necessary.
"Look..." The human man spoke in a soft but scratchy voice. "If you let us go... I'll-"
When the moan of the door interrupted the human, all fell silent and the steps of the Tier Head began talking. The guards saluted their leader, and he saluted back. His presence was horribly intimidating to the two young captives, glaring down at them from the seven foot two inch tower that was his height. Silence spilt, and 18s voice cleaned it up together in a deep sentence.
"Take the captives to the back. We shall start there."
By his word, they turned and proceeded to the back of the church, pulling the reluctant humans along.
"Move, human! Nunc!"
"N-no! Please! Please let us go!"
The Tier Head almost thought it foolish how they pleaded. As if after the four hundred and fifty seventh time, his guards would simply shrug and drop their bindings so they could run free. Through a small wooden door, the Four Ranks hauled the two humans through and onto two wooden chairs. Side by side, they sat together, invisible bindings still gripping their wrists. The Tier Head and Ranks gathers silently.
"Humans..." 18 murmured. "What exactly did your foolish leader think he would... accomplish by sending six of his men, two of which who will soon fight for the Mortem's, to our Tier to hold a base in our South Holds Minster?"
No one spoke.
"What did he think he would accomplish? Go on, spit it out!"
"Sir Death..."
18 stared at the brave woman. He found it interesting how she thought it was alright to address him politely after her group was planning to kill him and his people nonetheless.
"Sir Death, please don't kill us..."
Pure and utter silence. 18 smiled, and an unsettling, deep laughter poured from both him and the Four Ranks. Even the normally anxious Clement gave a laugh. The room was weighted and tight with it.
"Kill you?" Death laughed. "You don't want me to kill you?" The woman stared at him.
"You mistake me for a savage... I'm sure after your failed attempt you'd expect to die if I were your leader... But I'm not. In fact, I'm far from it." The Mortem's voice deepened to a terrifying mutter, almost as if to warn them. The human man lifted his head.
"I'm not going to kill you, if you simply cooperate." 18s words struck confusion in their faces. "I'm saving the commotion for your Tier Head. You are simply going to tell me what you know."
The human man scoffed. "We're not telling you anything."
"Suit yourself." 18 took out his handgun from his coat and pointed it at the man's head.
"No! Wait! We'll... We'll talk..."
18s arm dropped and he glared at them, the dreadfully intimidating smile gone. Simple enough.
"Tell me. What are you planning? What has he ordered you?"
"Nothing..."
"J... just... small raids... That's all. Nothing more." The woman said. The man beside her gave her a piercing glare. 18 now turned to the woman eager to gather the crucial information.
"And how many?"
"As... far as we know there is only... one here." she said.
"Liar."
"I swear! There's a base farther into the city! Near the clothing shops! They were sent by our Tier Head! I swear it!"
"Shush your mouth!" The second captive chimed in, voice harsh. The Tier Head pointed the handgun to his forehead and continued questioning the woman.
"Go on. What are they planning?"
"They were..." The woman fidgeted in her cuffs. "going to hang some Mortem's in the city."
The Tier Head smiled again, and broke out into laughter along with the others. Another horribly planned attack.
"Hang them?"
"Y... yes."
18 laughed again. Exactly how idiotic can The Hominum Tier Head be was the fastest growing question that lied in his mind. The captives sat in utter defeat and gut wrenching nervousness. The laughter all boiled down and was left back at one thing. Silence filled all over again. The walls seemed to lean in closer to hear what they had to say.
"One last question..." he said. "How many of our citizens are you holding captive in your Tier?"
At first she was mute, looking over at her comrade who stared at the floor in severe anger and defeat. "O... Only two."
"Of course..." 18's aim fell from the man's head, and he signaled for the guards to take the two. The man slipped the gun back into his coat and marched for the door.
"Bring them to the fountain. We're finished here."
The dreary sound of their shuffling feet cleared the room and fled to the next. It was unfortunate. They could have had six to convert instead of two. If only the humans weren't so stubborn and kill crazy. Two were far more beneficial than none, anyhow. Approaching the rippling dark water, they were forced to the rim of the fountain making the two line up, facing it on its ledge. Exactly knee deep and good enough to drown a breather in it.
"Alright." Italus announced, popping the cork of a bottle and handing it to the shaking human. "Ladies first."
She gazed at the black water where she will die, then to the grey liquid in the bottle that would take her there, then finally, to her comrade who would die with her, and she swallowed the thick viscous liquid. The muscles in her arms and legs painfully tensed and the woman was thrown forward, her face and torso hitting the water with force. They pushed her in. Flailing and kicking, the grey liquid turned her head into the weight of an anchor and all she could do was panic in the dark water until she fell still and quiet. Within a matter of seconds, she did exactly that. The manic splashes of the water was simply left to ripples made by the cycle of the stone fountain. The man watched, the jittery and anxious fear slamming at his chest.
"Now you."
Slowly, as if the sound of his footstep were as loud as thunder, the man hoisted himself onto the ledge, and was handed a bottle. The human stared, then scoffed at it.
"I'll die before I drink that."
"As you wish." Italus murmured, pushing the man over and throwing his hand over the side, wrapping his fingers around the human's neck with such emotionless eyes. The splashing and flailing didn't last for an extended period of time, and the man as well, fell still beside the hardening corpse of his companion. Now the sound of knees hitting the wooden floor was in fact, as loud as thunder. Eyes like amber, staring to the ceiling, locked in place. The Mortem's held their hands together, fingers intertwined, and lifted it above their heads. They prayed as persistently as the bodies in the fountain changed. Rimming around the fountain with the sunken bodies, they knelt like statues. No one moved for a great while. Underwater, hair turned dark from the roots, flesh hollowed and died, eyes burned to a fiery yellow, but all was still. Minute by minute went by like the turning of a page until a small disturbance interrupted the stillness rudely. Forming unnaturally beneath the surface, commotion threw the water in waves. Illuminated eyes of the praying dead flashed and they stood to welcome the new. Their arms raised in the darkness, palms flat and open, staring fiercely at the ceiling, and they spoke their dead language. At the moment their eyes dimmed and the Mortem's dropped both their gaze and arms, the bodies, sat up slowly in the water. The black silk ripples of the fountain surrounded them. Confused and oblivious, the new Mortem's found themselves to be.
"Wh... who? Where am... I?" The male spoke.
"You are in the Minster of the South Hold."
"What? But... I don't understand..."
"You will soon." Their new leader replied.
"But... I don't remember... I don't remember anything... Why I'm here. Where here is. My... my own name... I don't remember my own name!"
"Your name... Your name is chosen to be Calix."
"C... Calix... and... who are you?" The new male asked.
"I am The Mortem Tier Head. Your leader."
