Blood On Your Hands (closed)

[Christoph]

“You’re new to these parts, I take it,” said the bartender as he polished glass mugs from behind the wooden counter, his massive, hairy arms flexed with every motion. The last traces of sunlight had vanished outside and the tavern buzzed with activity. Patrons of all sorts drank and talked in the warm, golden glow of the fireplace. Barmaids navigated through tables with expert precision, avoiding obstructing chairs and the grasping hands of lonely men.

Chris leaned against the counter, letting the pleasant heat sink into his travel-weary bones. In his pristine white chef coat, one would have expected to see him on the other side of the counter. “I’m from Salvar,” he confirmed, brushing strands of brown hair out of his face. “How could you tell?”

“I figured you were from way up there,” the heavy man replied. “You got that accent, and you’re always lookin’ about, tryin’ to see how everyone else is actin’. You just got to relax!” He slapped the young cook on the shoulder with a friendly smile and slid him another ale. Chris took a sip, trying to ignore its inferiority compared to the drinks back home. “What brings you all the way to Radisanth, anyway?”

“Business, mostly.” Chris explained. “I help run a tavern back home, and we're always trying to find cheaper ways to ship in grain and other supplies. Farming is so hard in most of Salvar that any kind of produce gets really expensive if you’re not smart.”

“Ha! You’ve come to the right town, then!” said the bartender, his chest swelling with patriotic pride. “Whenever you’re needin’ anything shipped anywhere, Radisanth is the place to go. Why, did you know that more ships dock in a year than there are houses in the city?”

“Is that so?” replied the young chef, rolling his eyes.

“It sure it!” answered the bartender, apparently oblivious to Christopher’s sarcasm.

“Things have been going smoothly so far, so I’ve taken some time to explore what Radisanth has to offer, as they say.”

“You should be careful at night,” said an older, grey-haired man sitting two stools down. “There have been disappearances lately… random people vanishing from the streets, leaving nothing but gore-splattered alleys behind.”

Chris grimaced. “That puts a bit of a blemish on the utopia of Radisanth., doesn’t it?”

“Bah, it’s just some common murderer that the brave guards of this city will catch soon enough,” scoffed the bartender, scowling at the grey-haired patron.

“I doubt that this is the work of merely the work of some regular criminal,” brooded the old man darkly.

“That’s… alarming,” said the young traveler. “What sort of monster could be behind it?”

[Nevar Flat Notes]

The soft light of the city kissed the descending twilight, embracing it with a familiar gentle transition. A little girl’s eyes stared into the heavens watching the bare sky that yawned high above. It was the upward gaze of appreciation, but no curiosity rest in those crimson irises. The strong scent of fresh blood touched her cute little nose and her eyes snapped to the earth. Ruby lips pursed in excitement, Alice squealed gaily.

“I smell candy!”

Turning towards the market of Radasanth, Alice grinned greedily at the sight before her. Many soft candles illuminated a street that seemed to stretch on into infinity, lined on each side with endless booths, stalls, and kiosks. Men and women shouted out to the crowd that walked at a slow pace down the road, offering discounts on merchandise only if they bought now, or trades for valuable items. Most of the merchants proclaimed their inventory to be the best in Corone, whilst nearby sellers would try to announce even louder that only their valued goods would provide the correct result.

Alice couldn’t understand what most of the objects for sale were, but it mattered little to her. Her beady little eyes set their sights on not the items for sale, but the people selling them. Some of the merchants were thin, some fat, of different skin colors and tones, but they all smelled tasty.

The girl’s inspection was cut short when a fairly obese man garbed in a long, expensive silk robe grabbed her shoulder rather forcibly. Alice spun and gazed at him with a fierce contempt at being disturbed, but the merchant quickly pardoned himself with a promise of candy.

His glutinous smile reminded her of the grin a hungry hound showed a chick, and he pulled her out of the crowd with a few worried glances at the shoppers. It pleased him that nobody noticed as they moved down a dark alley, “Come, come girl. If you come with me, just a bit further, I’ll give you plenty of candy.”

Careless, Alice followed him deep into the darkness, far from unwelcome eyes. The man’s fat neck is all the girl saw as they walked, licking her lips in anticipation. She had met men with a hunger like his before, and never did she truly understand what it was they wanted. They seemed obsessed with wanting to touch and fondle her though the reason behind their desires remained alien to Alice.

Suddenly the large man spun on his heel, lips wet with an eager lust, eyes wide, and hands reaching to grasp her small frame. In his blind fever he never noticed a knife in the girl’s hand as it rose high above his head. Moonlight danced across the brutally hungry edge and it plunged deep into his flesh, letting free a waterfall of beautiful rubies. Only a soft gurgling scream escaped his throat before his body slumped to the ground. The dagger disappeared, and Alice’s teeth dived into his fresh throat.

Grotesque sounds of ripping and tearing as she devoured him scared all else in that darkness, leaving Alice to her feast.

[Christoph]

“What’s it like up there in Salvar, anyhow?” asked the bartender, genuinely interested. Chris imagined that the hefty man didn’t get foreigners in the pub very often. The fire had burned down to glowing embers and many of the customers had gone, including the older man who had issued the dire warning.

“Oh, you know, lots of damn snow,” chuckled the cook, his voice louder than it should have been. He felt a tad hazy from the thick air and alcohol. Despite the quantity of the latter he’d consumed over the past two hours, his speech had somehow become even more coherent than normal. “Snow-covered mountains, snow-covered trees… snow-covered snow. Then there are all the religious zealots running around. You’ve got to watch out for them.” He gave an exaggerated shudder for effect.

“Corone, though, is nice,” Chris continued, the bartender making no attempt to interrupt the customer’s ramblings. “They’ve got a little of everything, you know? A little forest, a little plains, a little… sprawling, omnipresent government bureaucracy.” The big man across the counter tilted his head and blinked a few times, but Chris failed to notice. “It’s amazing what you can find on this island.” He peered into his half-empty mug and wrinkled his nose, his face a canvas of disappointment. “But what I’d really like to find is a little decent ale, like they brew back home. Do you have any imports from Salvar in those bottles back there?”

The bartender sneered. “What, is local stuff not good enough for you?”

“Not when it tastes like frothy water…” The chef smirked.

“Maybe you can just drink what you’ve got,” the barkeep retorted.

“That’s a possibility that I’ve already explored and decided against.” The bartender blinked again, as though he were borderline intoxicated and not Chris. “Okay, look… at least get me something with enough alcohol in it so that it won’t matter how bad the actual drink tastes?” The two fell silent for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Damn, boy, I can never figure out what it is your ever sayin’,” muttered the barkeep, shaking his head as he laughed. He placed a shot glass filled with a light blue liquid in front of the chef. “But this ought’ta get your blood hot!”

“All right! Now we’re talking!” Chris downed the entire glass, and immediately wanted to spit it back out. It took all the will he could muster to swallow. He gagged, his eyes watering and his throat burning. “Gods, man! Did someone piss into a can of oil to make this?” He retched, covering his mouth with his hand. He tossed a few coins on the table. “Keep the change. You may have won this round, but I’ll be back tomorrow night!” With the bartender laughing, Chris staggered out the door.

Outside, it had progressed from early evening to full night in the short time that he’d been inside, as was typically in the autumn months. The air felt moist and cool, almost reminding him of spring in Salvar, and dried leaves from the some of the nearby trees left standing in Radisanth coated the streets. The moon peaked though the clouds, casting a surreal silver glow over the sleeping city.

The fresh night air cleared his head a bit, and also brought back what the grey-haired stranger had told him. You should be careful at night. He glanced around nervously. The buildings seemed to loom over him, casting oppressive shadows in the pale moonlight. Their dark windows stared at the chef like sunken, phantom eyes.

“Look at me,” he said, talking to himself as he walked to calm his alcohol-soaked nerves. “A grown man, now, and I’m getting scared by shadows. I blame the alcohol. Damn vile ale wasn’t worth the headache I’ll have tomorrow. I think I’ll find a better tavern next time… except that barkeep was nice. Maybe I’ll go there again anyw—” He stopped short, finding himself standing before a dark alley. He could hear something, a vile, wet sucking sound mixed with a thin, high-pitched, animalistic snarl. There was something… human about it.

His buzzed to know better, the hazy cook stepped into the alley and was promptly greeted by a grisly scene of blood and brutalized flesh. A little girl crouched overtop the body of a grown man, blood dribbling from her chin and strips of flesh hanging from her teeth.

“Please tell me this is just the alcohol,” he muttered. The bestial girl glared up at him with the eyes of a startled predator. Instantly, she darted into the shadows. Chris should have walked away. He should have pretended that he hadn’t seen anything. He should have just gone back to his room at the boardinghouse and convinced himself the next morning that it had all been a hallucination. He didn’t. Instead, he darted into the alley, skidding to a stop next to the bloody man.

“Are you all right?” He knelt down and checked the man’s injuries, fighting the urge to recoil in disgust. To say that he was dead would have been an understatement; his entire throat had been ripped out and hunks of flesh had been ripped away along his chest and shoulders. Chris swore and looked around frantically.

He had begun to drag the corpse out of the alley when a stern voice called out to him. “You there! What the hell are you doing?” A city guard sprinted from down the street, his spear at the ready. Chris stood, holding his bloody hands out in front of him. “What happened?” the guard demanded.

The rational part of him screamed lie! You must lie! Logic and reason found itself dulled by alcohol and swiftly overwhelmed by sheer terror.

He cursed. “There was a little girl in the alley… covered in blood. I found her on top of him, gods so much blood… How could she have done this to a grown man?” The guard lifted an eyebrow, confused. Then, his face contorted into a disgusted sneer.

“A little girl?” he scoffed, pressing his spear into the terrified cook’s chest. “You expect me to believe that? You’re under arrest.”

[Nevar Flat Notes]

Alice’s fingers and teeth was digging into the dead merchant’s body just as she heard someone coming down the alley. Looking up from the corpse, flesh hanging from her mouth, her devlish eyes fell upon a man walking in a stagger towards her. The light from the street behind him framed the man’s form, and and he was thin but more of a threat than the merchant was. It was a risk she couldn’t take, as she hadn’t finished her meal and was still weak from hunger. She made a meek animalistic groan and dashed away from the corpse, slurping up the extra meat as she ran. As soon as the girl realized she wasn’t being chased, she hid around a corner and watched as her feast was dragged away.

Cursing him silently under her breath, she inched out from the corner and followed until he reached the light of the street. Instantly he was confronted by another human and they seemed to have a short argument. Alice only heard the man mumble out something about a little girl, and blood. She surpressed a giggle as the corpse was left in the street for another uniformed figure to take care of and her interloper was taken away rather forcibly. Cracking up laughing, she wiped her face and hands clean on some pieces of the man’s suit that had been left behind.

“What a rude fellow, interrupting a girl when she’s eating! What right does he have to take my food away from me, its not like that juicy gentleman ever did him anything good. I bet that sorry fellow never did anything good for anyone, and very much deserved to be eaten.” She said to nobody in particular, then stamped the ground in frustration as her stomach grumbled. “I’m still hungry! I barely even got started when that drunken bafoon came and jostled me. It’s not fair! Not fair at all! I hope he rots in prison for what he did. The coward, even blaming a little girl. Like they would have believed that! Hah!”

Grumpily she snuck out of the alley, easily avoiding the attention of the other uniformed men who had recently arrived. They were too distracted being disgusted by her dinner. Fortunately, her meal-crasher was still in sight at the end of the street, being pushed along by the other spear-wielding meat. With a mischevious grin she ran after them quietly, staying in the shadows and avoiding the street lamps. After a few minutes Alice saw that they were heading towards the large fortress-like building she found earlier, that had a bunch of prionsers and guards in it. Just as she was about to cross the street to get a closer look and maybe find a new meal, something cought her eye.

A store on the corner of the street was still brightly lit, despite the late hour in the night. Across the front side of the building was a wide open window, displaying hundreds of different small cute stuffed animals, dolls, action figures, and wooden toys of all sorts. The window was rimmed with strange candles that changed colors and hung and impossible angles, and some of the toys were even standing up and walking around. Compared to the rest of the stuff she’d seen in this world, she wouldn’t think they would have robots. Alice’s interest piqued, and the interloper already was instantly forgotten as she skipped off towards the toy store.