„We're doomed."

Chapter 19

The wights rushed through Devil's Acre, checking every little corner for a certain salesman. The stomping of their boots could be heard all over the place.
One of them was giving orders to the others and in the next moment they split up, some of them turning left and the other ones turning right.
The wight, who was giving orders, stayed with the group, which was walking up the main street.
"There it is....get ready." the foremost wight said and nodded towards a shop at the end of the street. The rest prepared their weapons, ready to shoot.

They arrived at the shop and one of them started to knock on the door.
The men could see boxes inside, which were probably filled with potions and other stuff. It seemed as if Desmond was going to leave Devil's Acre.
Suddenly, he appeared from a side of the room, where they could see him opening a door. Desmond walked towards his boxes, bend down and froze, when he saw the wights at his door.
One of them knocked again, which made him flinch a little. The wight pointed at the doorknob, telling him to unlock the door.
Desmond held his arms up, when he saw their guns and carefully made it to the door.
Then he pulled a keychain out of his pockets with one arm and unlocked the door. Desmond quickly backed away, when the wights began to storm inside.
All of them circled around him, still aiming their guns at the ambrosian. Except for one, who stepped right in front of Desmond and held out his hand.
"My name's Smith. We won't shoot at you, if you give us what we want."
Desmond didn't know what to do in this moment, so he just tried to grab the wights hand, but he pulled it away in the next second.
"I would never shake hands with somebody like you, you dirty ambrosian!" Smith said and slapped the salesman's face, causing him to stumble backwards.
"Did...did you get him?" Desmond tried to ask, while holding his face. He obviously knew why they were here.
"If you mean the guy that poisoned our leader—then no, we didn't get him." the wight explained and slightly kicked one of the boxes.
"Oh, thank go—" Desmond got interrupted by Smith, who grabbed him by his arm.
"You can save up your 'oh thank god' for later. Now, give us some kind of antidote." Mr. Smith snapped his fingers and pointed at all the phials his shop. They were all filled with different kinds of liquid, each of them had its own colour.
"Of course." Desmond nodded.
With shaking hands, he searched inside every box, went through every shelf, looking for what the wights needed.
Sometimes he turned around to look what they were doing, but they kept pointing their guns at him and Smith was holding up some of the phials, taking a closer at them.
Finally, he found what he was looking for and quickly grabbed the small phial, trying not to drop it—which was almost impossible, when his hands were shaking like this.
"H-here!" Desmond said and walked up to the wight, who turned away from the stuff he was just looking at.
"Ah! Finally. And I thought we have to shoot you. I guess, I was wrong." Smith shrugged and grinned at the ambrosian. Then he grabbed the phial out of Desmond's hands, made some kind of gesture to the other wights, and then he and his group left his shop. Desmond immediately locked the door again, and sighed.

"He did it."

//

Enoch, Bronwyn and Millard were further away from Devil's Acre now, but still close to the wight's fortress. They decided to take a break, so they could start to discuss a plan.
"What if they already got out of there?" said Enoch and pointed towards the fortress, which could be seen somewhere in the distance.
"You're right. But they could also still be captured." Millard replied and nodded, even though the others couldn't see it.
Bronwyn groaned. "What should we do, if we don't know where they are right now?"
While they were talking to each other, Midnight King of Darkness rolled around in the dirt. Then the horse stopped, stood up and held up his head.
Suddenly, everyone heard a gun shot and Enoch's horse slumped down to the ground. He got shot.
"No, Midnight King of Darkness!!" Enoch screamed.
Then they saw them, their white eyes flashing and their arms holding up guns.
"Well, time to take off my jacket again." said Millard and took his clothes off.
Bronwyn grabbed it, to make sure they didn't have to find a new jacket for him.
In the next moment, all of them began to run. Bronwyn had to drag Enoch away from the horse, because he just wouldn't leave.
"Come on, Enoch! Do you want to die?!"
"Right now, yes!" Enoch yelled at her, but she finally managed to get him away from the dead horse.
And then they ran for their lives.
==
(Here's finally a drawing of Desmond: