The Day of the Dead Villain: The Witchdoctor

Chapter Nineteen: Flames

        I grunted as my butt hit the floor. My whole body ached, and bruises littered my skin along with multiple patches of both fresh and dry blood. I heavily panted, exhaustion weighing down on my body. I don't remember ever being this out of shape, and I honestly don't know what the hell is going on. Is it because I haven't been eating properly, or a lack of sleep? I haven't slept in about a week. Normally that's not a problem, though. Still, I refuse to believe I'm that out of practice.

        Pride strolled over, a bored look on his face. "We're three days, thirteen hours, twenty-four minutes, and thirty-six seconds in, and all that you've accomplished is a basic spell without blood and two nicks with your physical training." He gave a coy smile. "How do you feel?"

        "Fuck you," I hissed, gritting my teeth.

        Pride clicked his tongue. "Language, language, little sheep. Besides, I don't exactly swing that way, and I'm not that desperate." My mouth gaped open, and he spoke before I could throw one of the nastiest remarks I have ever made. "In any case, this training is becoming redundant. You're hardly learning anything at all and becoming more predictable with your moves. Honestly..." He put his hand over half of his face in disappointment. "This training is meant to be for you, not me." Pride sighed, moving his hand away from his face and crossing his arms.

        I turned my head, the scowl clear on my face. "Jamarcia's a far better teacher than you'll ever be," I growled under my breath. Despite it being so quiet, Pride still managed to hear.

        He clicked his tongue. "Of course you would worship your little undead friend. Despite you running away, you still hold great respect and remain faithful to them. You're a confusing person, you know that?" Pride sighed once more. "A thirty minute break is all I'm giving you. Use it as you see fit. Vilidarus, get him a drink or something."

        Pride walked out of the room, and the succubus came to my side, roughly pulling me off the ground. "Come on," she muttered. "We're going on patrol. Wash off the blood." Within a good couple of minutes - with the help of Viliadarus - all visible blood had been washed off, and we were out patrolling. We didn't go very far, only a couple blocks and back. Honestly, it was more of a walk than any sort of patrol. A very awkward walk, at that.

        It was quiet, and the atmosphere was very thick. I wanted to say something, but couldn't think of what. I just decided to go for it; anything will do. "So... Uh-"

        "You're horrible at starting up good conversations, aren't you?" I flinched back at Viliadarus's rhetorical question. "It's fine. I didn't expect the second greatest villain of all the world to be that socially adept, especially when he was raised by creatures that are even less so."

        I furrowed my eyebrows into a flat line. "Excuse me?" It sounded like more a statement than a question.

        "I'm just saying," she said after a chuckle. "Your little group is turning into quite the recluse. I don't get out much as it is, but I still heard plenty of things about the Revolutionaries every day. However, it seems they've gone relatively quiet. The last time I heard anything about them was the day of the Sports Festival, and that was a while ago. My best guess is that they're all dead."

        I hummed. "While I have no proof to doubt it, I still do. Granted, I'm sure there won't be a wonderful surprise if I ever go back, but I doubt that they're all dead. I'm sure they're just lying in wait for something."

        "What makes you so sure about that?"

        "Well," I began, "if you just take a look at who we have on our team, it's practically impossible for them to all be dead. For one, we have an immortal man on our team, and I'm not sure if there's any way to change him back to mortal. So, that pretty much rules out him. We have a machine that was built specifically for military reasons, so he's probably figured out a way to survive. There's a banshee, and whenever she tries to use her voice, people's insides melt to mush. There's the last of the Shadowmeld vampires, the strongest vampire known to Le Mort. We have the strongest group of vigilantes ever known. Not only that, but we have one of the Seven Knights, the strongest group of people ever, as our leader. The fact that all of them are dead is something almost impossible to believe."