The Drunken Storytellings of a Madman.

Part 22

Richard Graham the Third, oh what a man. His archeological findings and observations were what drove me to be the person I was that day, in many ways more than what you may expect.

Richard was a simple man in most ways and honestly, could have been seen as an incredibly ordinary person, if it weren't for his passion in archeology that is. He was obsessed with the ancient relics and in particular, enchanted objects. He had a love for finding out what they could do, the ability they possessed and ultimately, what they did to a human body.

He and I weren't very close, but he was a man of talent and I respected him for that. I put my faith in him and I wasn't disappointed ever.

Brilliant, my brain hurt even more after that thought and anger soon came knocking upon my residence for an awesome kick in the nuts and a beatdown while I'm lying on the floor vulnerable.

I hated thoughts like that, the ones that immediately put me in a bad mood and then make me inclined to help someone, it was a rare and honestly stupid thought process. The times where I let emotion take over logical and rational feeling still sting to this day, those stupid moments where I forget to stop and think, I fucking hate those moments.

But now it was personal, I felt obliged to do something, in the name of Richard and all his archeological findings. Regardless of whether it spelled my undoing or not, upon that brief, foolish thought I'd made up my mind. I was going to help Violetta and I was going to fight whatever this thing was.

A few hours passed by and I heard the awaited knock at my door. I opened it and Violetta walked into the room. There was a slight silence between us, as if both of us were unsure of what to say next. She didn't hesitate with her question and immediately asked,
"So, what are you going to do?" Her question shot out and she looked at me, eyes full of a mixture between hope and desperation.
"Honestly? I've pretty much made my mind." My tone remained blank, I didn't want to give anything away to the girl just then, she looked hopeless and honestly, I wanted to screw around the slightest bit.
"So what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, I've made a decision."
"Which is?"
"I don't know, what do you think?" I began to shift into a more playful and teasing voice, a mixture between soothing innocence and mischievous intent. However all thoughts of mischief were immediately stopped once I felt a sharp pain across my left cheek. Violetta had just slapped me.
"Mr. Harroworth, excuse my act of violence, but we could literally all die if you don't help. Our days are numbered enough as it is and I don't have time for your ignorant bullshit."
I took a few steps back, despite having her back pushed up against the wall, she wasn't going to hesitate when it came to getting an answer. Seems she isn't as pathetically placed as I had assumed.

"Fine. I'll help, but on one condition." An idea sprang to mind and a slight smirk spread across my lips, I was still going to get some amusement out of this situation.
"What is this 'condition' of yours, Mr. Harroworth?"
"I want you to fight me."
"Excuse me?" Her face twisted into one of confusion and a hint of anger, she had just stated she didn't have time for my crap, so why had I challenged her like that?
"Well, you said that your friend, Maxwell, was one of you, correct?"
"Yes, he and I are the same species of people."
"Then I should be able to get a good idea of what I'm up against if you and I were to fight, correct?"
"I could literally just tell you what I'm capa-" I hushed her, putting a single finger against her lips.
"Now where would be the fun in that? That is my demand, if you can do this for me, then I shall help you."
"Very well, Mr. Harroworth."