Ah the poor lads are in a total disarray. What once was a fine tuned operation is now a bunch of fools breaking in multiple directions. It makes for far to easy pickings. No real challenge to it. I sigh, best get on with it.
I shimmy down the wall, maintaining my cover spell. Well practiced. I crept quietly past Brig. Just a door between me and the book room. My cover spell covers the door, no annoying creeks for me. That's amateur work. In I go.
Hmm, the books are lacking entries for the last three days. Brig couldn't even hold onto his bookkeeper. The boy is going to have to join up with some other gang soon enough. Or get stabbed in the alleyway. Depends how proud he is I suppose. So the safe hasn't been fed for three days. My unnoticed stealing just got duller. I open it and take it all. Retrieving my illusion toy as well…I leave the door to the safe open. I can at least have some satisfaction at that.
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Stab stab stab. Little dearie bleedin’ out. I coil around them more. To apply pressure to their wounds. Can't have ‘em leave me too soon. Stab stab stab.
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I came across the soup maker, the peppered brown hair with a scraggly beard man. He got a few children around him. He is haggard but he stirs the soup. I toss the night’s take to him. It lands on the ground at his feet. He is slow but he reaches down and places it into a pocket inside his cloak.
“Thanks gov’.”
The man is broken and only makes pots of soup everyday. He feeds whoever comes to him. I make sure he is well stocked. A vital service to the community he is. He only came to town a few months ago.
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Another wastrel wandered about lost.
“Dearie, you look lik’ you need a good warm meal.”
The woman looks at me blankly for a moment but then begins to tear up at my supposed kindness. I'll feed her, then she will meet my needs. I huddle the woman close to me, the warm blooded like contact. I just need to make sure they don't step on my tail. The clumsy are the worst.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
I always end up stabbing them somewhere vital early for their transgression.
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“Do fill a bath Gerswin. Today was a rather unsatisfying night.”
The stuffy [Head Attendant] headed out. I walk over to my Lady. She looks up from her book.
“No joy in it any more?”
“Afriad not love, the dregs of the Green Matron has all but fallen apart. I cleaned them out tonight.” I sigh, “I doubt there will be anyone to fill that void for a while.”
“Ah dear, perhaps you could go turn in some common riff raff then.”
“I suppose, it's been awhile since I tracked down a murderer. Not as satisfying though, you send a murderer to the gallows and that's it. You steal from a gang to give back to the community. It's just golden. Especially when they find out you've been doing it for ages.” I frown, “The latest never noticed my toy. Maybe I should have it run out of mana.”
“Now now dear, you are just going to get some low level coin counter killed with that sort of trickery.”
“Suppose you're right. I think I'll track down one of the enforcers tomorrow.”
She pats me on the arm and returns to her book.
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I push the lid down. A squelch sound is made. It doesn't latch… I need to do another dumping. I force the lid down harder. A click. Best spend the night washing it. Walking the streets with a gore covered chest just will not do.
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The boy got caught. The woman looks like she is about to give the boy a scolding with the way she is dragging him off. I hang back. Best to let it run its course. The boy looked like he could do with a good talking too. Perhaps a good meal too.
I was about to head off when I caught the scent of blood. I head back to the river bank. No one is there. I notice a puddle of blood at my feet. I crouch down, a decent amount, fresh. I hear a splash, I see the boy sink. I rush to the edge of the river when I take a hard strike to the stomach. I fall backwards. I turn and see a giant spider … woman… what? I pull my sword ready to fight.
Something moves in my peripheral vision. I swing through an illusion of some sort…fuck. The spider claw hand grasps my sword hand and crushes it. I scream. The thing is too strong. It lifts me up and bits down onto my shoulder. I try to break free but I am losing to much bl..o….o
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Carryin’ this to the river is always the worst part of stabbin’. But eatin’ veg’ is good for your health, just as dumpin’ bodies let you stab more. I finally reach’ the river. I take a gander around. No one. Good. I struggle with opening the chest. Shouldn't have tried to fit one mor’. Come on, open you whore. The squelch sounds out as I finally lift the lid.
“Thats quite the bouquet of smells you have there.”
