Creeping through the silent fort, Thursday considered her life up to the point at which she’d arrived. Everybody she’d ever associated with has ended up dead. Either by her hands or by the hands of others, no soul has survived being drawn into her world. Daisy herself had even died twice in her company. What was it that had been created in her, she wondered, that made her destroy everything she came into contact with? Even an entire town, a chance - perhaps her final one - for peace in her tumultuous life, was annihilated completely. The emptied village would go on to be gutted by highwaymen and left a shell, uninhabitable simply for fear fear of the unknown fate that befell the previous citizens. Like a ghost, she disappeared from an Effaria that was burning to the ground, and she’d do the same here this night. But not until after one more glorious atrocity.
The building on the opposite side of the fort from Melo’s prison was slightly larger and dark inside. As she neared the gaps in the cement and stone that functioned as windows, she heard the faint sound of snoring. Naturally, any fort would have lodging for its soldiers, however this place was no longer a traditional fort. Asleep in the room were but two men, rogues and thugs paid to watch the back of a man who could afford to keep a mercenary from being paid higher to stab him in the back. Thursday was pleased to see that Aaron was one of them. She was glad to see him sleeping happily while the man he betrayed was dying of infection not but yards away. It was time for a grisly discussion with the wretch.
She slipped in silently through the window, crouching in the shadow of the wall as she was surrounded by the sound of snores and shuffling, sleeping bodies. Standing tall, she briefly considered how she’d go about dispatching the two men without waking the rest of the fort. Thursday always did appreciate a noisy, violent death. One would have to be specially reserved for Aaron.
Clawed hands glistened in the obscured moonlight as she crept before the other, nameless man. He’d remain so. With the gentle caress of a mother, she slowly raised her clawed hands and held them steady above him, her cold metal fingers writhing. Silently she struck, her face devoid of feeling as she clutched tightly at his throat. His eyes shot open, and though his reddening face seemed desperate to call for help, he was unable to. He thrashed what little he could beneath her fatal grip as she pressed him ruthlessly to the oddly downy bed he had been given. His panicked eyes witnessed a cruel grin before the flesh beneath her claws gave way and his neck snapped. There was a rustling behind her and she quickly spun, releasing the corpse as she saw Aaron sit up and rise from his bed in shock.
“Th-Thurs-”
Knowing that an alarm call was more than imminent, she swung her right fist at his head swiftly, the metal knuckles striking his temple and sending him crumpling to the ground once more. Thursday sighed in relief. The plan could’ve almost been ruined.
“Back to sleep,” she told his unconscious form, “I’m not done with you yet…”
************************************************
Outside, Aaron was now tied by his wrists to the massive log in the middle of the fort, a strip of cloth from his sheets tied around his mouth. He was still out, and now with his so-called guards out of commission, she was free to finish her task. She made her way to the main structure, not hesitating to merely stroll in the front door, which was not locked. Shadow had believed far too strongly that his plan would succeed. With Melo safely tucked away and dying in a cell, who would bother him now? Surely nobody who could best his archers or sleeping buffoons. Thursday hated being underestimated.
The larger building’s interior was far nicer than the prison or troop lodgings. While the first room was merely housed a desk on a large ruge, the walls were adorned with mounted weaponry and portraits of unknown men and women. Shelves lining the walls were filled with books and covered in small boxes and other assorted decorations. What used to most likely be an officer’s dwelling had been turned into a nice little home. However, before she could go upstairs for Shadow, she needed to make sure no surprises were waiting in the rooms before her. To the right of the desk was a shut door, the faint glow of candle light dancing along the cracks.
Thursday listened closely, and upon hearing nothing, ventured to open the door. The door opened before her claws could find a grip on the handle, and before her stood a squat, slightly rotund woman as she stared blearily into the darkness. Quickly, the homunculus pressed a hand to the woman’s mouth and shoved her back into the room, keeping the claw pressed tightly to her lips as she pulled the door shut behind them. The woman’s candle was dropped, the flame going out in silence.
“Make a sound and I’ll rip out your guts,” Thursday hissed, staring at the terrified woman intently. “You answer my questions and that is all. Who are you?”
Reluctantly, Thursday pulled her hand away, thankfully greeted by the soft, whimpering coos of a woman frozen with fear.
“I-I’m the children’s caretaker. I f-f-feed and- and I-”
“Silent. What children? He has other children?”
Trying to maintain her composure and not break down in tears, the woman shook and blubbered before she spoke, struggling to keep her voice down lest she be disemboweled.
“He… gets orphans… kids who volunteer to fight for him. Th-they are in the other room. Please… d-don’t hurt the-”
Coldly, Thursday gave an effortless and quick jab to the woman’s throat. Though it was not able to be seen, she could hear the blood spilling. She grabbed the woman before she fell, setting her down gently on the floor to allow her last moments of life to be a little quieter, and subsequently easier for herself. It was a shame the children were volunteers. She may have been able to consider letting them live, otherwise.
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