Evil

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

Several days later.

"One Cirsque please!" I ordered with a cheerful expression on my face, the fragrance wafting from the sizzling pieces of food nearly making me drool, my stomach growling, as if getting down on its knees, begging me to consume this work of art before me.

In the time between hunts, I spent my time travelling the world trying street food and enjoying scenery—Not the most unique reason to travel, but a reason nonetheless. It wasn't some gap year or some enlightening bullshit journey barely legal women went on to learn yoga or anything, I was simply a foodie there for the chance to try delicacies.

Music blared in my ears as I roamed the streets.

[He said there ain't no rest for the wicked. Money don't grow on trees. I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed...]

A rather old classic from the 2000's era where handheld phones were in their infancy, embryonic almost. It was a relic from the past that I rather enjoyed since it was something I could relate to.

If it hadn't been from the money I'd looted from my victims' homes, I would've been sleeping on the streets instead of on a queen-sized bed in a comfy hotel in South Korea.

Despite my rather peculiar fascination with the hunts and such, there were times where peace and quiet were much appreciated and preferred over the hectic and disorientating nature of having to keep so many things in mind to avoid capture whilst keeping that child-like desire in check.

It had been going rather well if I were to admit honestly. The sole reason for my capture was simply one word: Luck.

The man I had planned to be my next victim just so happened to have been shadowed by one of the cops that had just so happened to be in the task force which was formed for my capture. It just so happened that I hadn't noticed said cop when I wanted to kidnap the man and it just so happened that I was on that time of the month, meaning my rationale wasn't exactly steady so I had gotten a little irritated that the saw blade just so happened to malfunction.

Due to such an intricate web of 'just so happened' dumb luck occurrences happening one right after the next made me wonder if the universe was conspiring against me. This string of chance, rather predictably, led to my swift and eventual arrest and trial. If there was anything to be satisfied and appeased by, it would be the fact that I'd managed to end the 'lucky' shit's life before I was promptly shot in the leg and incapacitated.

Whatever. The past was in the past—Lamenting over the one-in-a-decillion chance occurrence of the past wasn't going to make my life better.

Besides, it just so happened that my execution had led to this rather abrupt rebirth where I just so happened to lead the type of life I'd only dreamt of in the past.

[No there ain't no rest for the wicked until we close our eyes for good...]

The song ended, fading into the next—Cell Block Tango.

(A/N: Here's the song if you're interested! It's from a favourite musical of mine, Chicago!)

I chuckled, it was rather fitting wasn't it? A murderess like me, listening to a song about other female murderesses.

"I wonder where I should head next?" I muttered to myself, staring down at the circular piece of deep-fried dough with boar meant filling alongside crisp spring onions and a sweet-savoury reddish-coloured sauce that held the meat and spring onions together. It reminded me of the type they had in a famous dim sum dish called the char siew pau.

I had a few ideas in mind:

1. The Sanguis East, home to the Bestials. Half-human, half-beast. The defining trait of the Bestials was what the others called the Bone Facade, a mask made out of material that resembled ivory from elephants—Keratin. All Bestials were born with the mask stuck to their face. As to what was hidden behind the mask—No one outside their race knew. At least, no one alive. The bestials had kept up relations with both fiends and humans and remained a neutral force in keeping the peace making them a rather dangerous threat should the humans and fiends ever warred.

2. The Prodido Chains, home to the Fiends. Despite the foreboding name, the general consensus was that they were individualistic peace-loving people who had high affinities with nature and were part of the righteous faction under the combined monarchy of one Emperor Lorak Ha'lijik (Pronounced Lore-Ark Ha-Lye-Gick).

3. The Pesmenos Savanna, home to the Xotika (Pronounced Zo-Tee-Ka). While the sketches of them showed them to resemble the elves of fantasy, everything other than those pointy ears stated otherwise. Feral and savage, their black sunken eyes flooded with bloodthirsty intent. Their clothes comprised of a patchwork of loose metals from other parts of the continent and beast skins. It was all very reminiscent of tribalism. Almost barbaric in nature rather than the calm, composed and hubristic nature of elves I had come to stereotype them as.

4. Lastly, the Ypogeios Tundra. This little place was labelled a forbidden zone about a thousand and twenty-three odd years prior due to the presence of several dangerous entities even the strongest of the strong, the renowned righteous faction hero Sir Xavier Alexander, a rank 10 expert, daren't fight against. Despite this, place was the home of the reclusive Kosmimarians (A/N: Singular would be a Kosmima) long before any entity was detected. The Kosimamarians, as millennia-old sketches depicted what would be the modern-day equivalent of a dwarf on Earth. Little was known about this mythical race that disappeared off the face of the world millennia ago and this was merely added fuel to the fire that was my burning curiosity.

As I contemplated my options, a warning horn blew, baring rather abruptly in my ears, raising a sense of alarm. It reminded me of the war horns blown in medieval times before I realised—

"Oh shit, it is a war horn," Nearly slapping myself at that idiotic statement I had made, I felt the teaspoon which was given Julius a two or three weeks had been broken. The Garlynx came later than he expected.

"MORTALS STAY INDOORS! MAGISTERS UNINVOLVED ARE ADVISED TO STAY AWAY FROM THE WEST GATE AND OTHER AREAS OF CONFLICT! ANYONE CAUGHT WITHOUT AUTHORISATION OF THE BARSHIEK CLAN WILL BE AUTOMATICALLY BRANDED AN ENEMY! I REPEAT: MORTALS STAY IN—"

I stared at the rising plumes of smoke, the horrified screams of terror that now plagued the peaceful city of Juniper, the frantic clamour of soldiers rushing towards the west gate like moths to a flame.

The storage ring could indeed keep food fresh but it would go cold. Any and all attempts to reheat with my inadequate control of volatile magic would most definitely go south very quickly.

So, with a reluctant gaze, I burned away the cirsque, resolving myself to ask for compensation later.

Sighing softly, I made my way to the west gate with languid nonchalance,"There truly isn't any rest for the wicked."