Prophecy: Tome of Skin

14. The Body

Lightning licked through the sky, setting the already ominous scene as two hooded men carried a familiarly shaped wrap down an alley. The very few people who had witnessed it paid it no mind-sure, they could guess what it was, but it was the city after all, one of the biggest in the country, and they knew better than to stick their noses where they didn't belong. Besides, the short stature of the man who led the procession left little to the imagination, and it would take a foreigner from across the world to not know who Alistair Montgomery was, or what he did.

"Give us the room," he commanded after leading his goons through the brothel, causing quite a panic amongst the patrons. Now he stood in its proprietor's room, scaring off the young man who he'd been occupied with. Once they were alone, Alistair smiled, "I come bearing two things for you."

"I'm flattered, but you're not my type, you see. It's with deep regret that I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Dill smirked, getting up and slipping his underwear back on.

"But wait, you haven't even heard me out yet. First there's this," holding out his hand, Alistair waited to be handed the folder from his underlings who he'd left out in the hall. When he held the information in his clutches, he chuckled and handed it to the demon. "In that docket you'll find all the information you'll need to push back against Stephanie Blake. That's my beginning gift to you, this invaluable weapon to help you reobtain your freedom. When she next comes around, blackmail her, and I'm sure she'll crack."

"Is this true?" Though he had great disdain for his company, Dill couldn't help but to giggle and grin while reading the contents of the folder. "I appreciate the assist, cowboy, but I'm not sure what you expect in return. I'm still going to throw your ass out."

"Very well, that brings me to our second gift." Now Alistair snapped his fingers, his goons bringing in the wrap and throwing it to the ground at the Radrora demon's feet before unrolling it. Dill made a sickened sound and clamped his hands over his mouth when Cliff's body flopped out in front of him, causing his guest to laugh. "A warning. You've gotten into bed with some rather unsavory people, my good fellow, you better watch your back. After all, Monica was quite fond of her little pet here, and look where he is now. I wonder what that might mean for somebody as expendable as you."

"You sick son of a bitch, how could you?"

"Me? I am not the one who made the choices that led to this place, now am I? I wonder, was it worth it? Seeing your friend, lying dead on the ground in front of you, do you have any regret for the choices you've made? Take my gifts, demon. It's the only lifeboat that will save you from drowning in the icy waters."

"I know you," Dill caught his breath, trying hard to stop himself from breaking into hysteria, "and I'm not going to go from being one person's puppet to being another's."

"No, no, you've got me all wrong. If it would've served me better, I would've just had my friends here put a bullet in your brain. Yet I think that might make the people I have to answer to a little less forgiving. Trust me, I do this to save myself, and that just happens to mean a happy ending for you too. Gifts, as I said, use them. However, I suppose there is one thing I expect in return-keep my name out of it. Because if anyone figures out my involvement here, well, it won't matter if I do finish you off. Now, good day to you." Alistair turned and started on his way, his minions closing ranks behind him.

"Wait," with a shaky hand Dill wiped his eyes, "you can't just leave him here like this."

"Of course I can, it's your trophy after all, a triumph of your wills. If nothing else I said here tonight stays with you, I know in the very least that you have that to remind you. Farewell, Yradill of the Radrora Clan." Then Alistair was gone, and Dill was alone with the body. He was frozen in place, unable to take his eyes from the motionless form of his friend, and as if the fever were breaking he realized what he had done. Without thought he sank to his knees, bending over the result of his blind jealousy and beginning to weep, for now he understood that he was the murderer.