The glass display case stood under a beam of moonlight in the day it probably looked more manifesting, but right now it was more on the treacherous side. Sitting behind a box of thick glass was crudely put together by long flat stakes that were stained by age, barley enough room to writ anything on them but small characters went down each stake. Tattered cloth wrapped around each skinny stake, and then bound on its spine by a waxy substance. A small brass plate was found in the corner of the front of the case with a description ‘book of rituals from the Xia dynasty’.
“its not rituals book” Lunie said laying her head on my shoulder “a lot of people thought it was, even back then, blame it on bad translation, and the inebriation on the authors part. You are looking at the mortis aegrotationum integer vitae tellus. Also know as deaths cookbook…vol2”
I looked at her as if she was joking, she had to be, why would such a thing excites “deaths cookbook”
Glancing up at me flashing a smile she nodded, and put two fingers up “vol2”
“why would death have a cookbook”
“apparently, long before the Xia dynasty, there was a tribe of shaman, or Wu, or Xian as they might have called them. Powerful bunch, that served even powerful gods that are long forgotten, one of these gods was over death and sacrifice. And back then animal along with human sacrifices where very popular. These shaman believed that their god of death would collect their sacraments to the gods and being the youngest death would prepare the sacrifices in fine gourmet meals that suited the gods, and serve his older brethren with jewel incrusted plates. He would work all day gathering souls, taking up sacrifices, and On top of that his no one left him any food he would starve every night and day as the others grew stronger from his cooking. Now the story goes that this representation of death had gotten tired and being the footstool of his family and went insane from hunger, resulting in him killing all of his kin turning them in his own buffet, gaining their powers and strength. He felt bad that the tribe had no one to look after them, so he wrote a cookbook with all his recipes that would please any god, and any royal family for that mater. with the book and needing a new purpose they ventured off in the world cooking impressing kings and queens through out the ages, both mortal and immortal. As for the death god, he was soon forgotten, some stories saying he died others saying he still wonders the earth making meals for random folks.” Getting off my shoulder she stepped closer to the case serving it for its security.
Shifting the bags I had in my hands from out other ventures, we stuffed stolen high end bags of stolen high end artifacts and jewelry. We wanted some paintings but then we thought it would be too much to carry them under out arms “so if this is the second book what happened to the first one, and why is it the book in a museum instead at some immortal mansion”
“vo1 disappeared when the last of his tribe died out” lifting the wrench she took from our previous trespassing over her head “and although the meals were heavenly, you do go insane after a few meals resulting in acts of cannibalism. Anything meant for a god ends in treble result for none gods.” She swung down breaking the glass and triggering the alarm. She grabbed the book shaking of the execs glass and the grabbed my arm.
The world stopped sifting we were standing in my forge, Lunie was admiring the book “but vol2 is just as if to more valuable then the first”
Placing ur bounty on the workbench I started doing a metal inventory “so what is it made out of”
“the cannibal victim’s bones” I looked at her in disgust “oh don’t judge them, this was in a time when it was unique to use victim body parts for historic recordings, and one to talk you eat hearts”
She got me there, but I don't make weapons out of them…I have o take that back. there was this one time but it was a long time ago and I still am sickened by it. although it did make a pretty cool weapon, and I got a good sum of money from it, but I'm sure telling her would just help her with her case.
Looking at the our trove some of the things didn’t quit make sense, a wooden malt from a museum exhibited ‘tools across the ages’ in France, a monocle that was among an array of Knick-knacks in a china cabinet from Arabia, and the cook book from china which she says is worth a lot but still looks like a weird old book no one is going to want. I still don’t know why she stole the other two things, she had no story for the either, it was like she just wants to take old junk for random places. Everything else was worth so much more, and you didn’t have to know some ancient story to know it worth. Diamonds, jewels, gold the things people really care about.
“my my” jerking around instinctively grabbing the closest weapon to fight, I saw her standing by my anvil her lethal nails taping on the metal. Those deadly blue eyes peering at the both of us “don’t you two look chummy” she spat.
“Worden” giving her a smile that felt queasy “you seem upset” which gave me reason to keep my weapon in hand which turned out to be my hammer, no magic in it but just as deadly in my hands.
“if I am I think I have a good reason to be” her nails raked the smooth metal as she strutted towards me “if I'm not mistaken Blacksmith” she was defiantly pissed but what for I don’t know, maybe she was just impatient “we had a contract, and I gave you half the money upfront, and yet when I come to check on my investment. Where do I find you, not working but traveling the globe with my employee, which I will be having a discussion with later.” She glanced at Lunie that sent shiver up my spine, looking at Lunie. My fearless blue haired demon was frozen I fear.
For a time that lasted longer then it should have, I glared back at the Worden, my mind didn’t see her as someone I needed to fear, but some one that was a threat to my happiness. I thought of a thousand things to end her life or at least make it worst then the stat she’s in now. It would have been a million but I was interrupted by her yelling “Blacksmith” her dark lips almost pulled back in a snarled “she glanced between Lunie and I “don’t let feeling be the reason for your demise, take it for me there is multiple ways to die.”
She turned walking towards some of the weapons that hung on the wall, Lunie snaked over to my side. Her fingers trembled as they slid down my wrist to the hammer handle, I didn’t look at her not wanting to take my eyes of Worden. But I tightened my grip wondering why she would take my protection from me “she wont hurt you” she whispered “your deal isn’t don’t with her yet”
“What about you”
“My deal isn’t done either” tearing my eye way I looked at her, fear wasn't even close to describing what I saw in her. That spark, that insanity that I love was dossed out. slowly I, reluctantly I loosened my grip letting the hammer fall in her hands.
“your talent is incomparable” the warden said running her fingers over the various creations “and what is this feeling, it like there calling out, like a newborn wanting to be held”
“they have no master to wield them, so they cry out to any one hoping to claim them”
She got to section of the wall that was of just fun projects that haven't even been test yet, stuff I couldn’t part with because they held too many memories. Coming on the a revolver I made one summer that took all my time to make but it was fun getting the gears and small parts to work together “they inspire such beautifully thoughts of homicidal tendency”
Picking up the gun she open the cylinder “where are the bullets”
“it doesn't need them” I said hoping that she doesn't figure out how it works.
“what have you names this one” she examined it as if trying to figure it out with out my help.
“the hand of Ganesha”
She looked up with wide eyes ‘the remover of obstacles” she flicked the gun closing the cylinder, a faint smile came to her face, with out even hesitating she closed her eyes holding gun close to her face one hand on the trigger the other parallel to the barrel pointing up in a prayer pose opening her eyes she looked at us. Making sure I covered Lunie, I hoped I could stop harm getting to her but with this gun there was no stopping its aim.
Still in her prayer pose “I don’t like playing games, Blacksmith. And I was hoping that I wouldn’t come to this, but I see I have no choice” she lowered the gun aiming straight to me her eyes colder then before, her breathing was steady and her demeanor was calm, as if we were just target practice. Is this it is this the way I go, ended by the things I loved to make, clamed by something I gave life to. She puled the hammer down and with one slow breath she squeezed the trigger.
The shout thunder through the space, the sound was so powerful the windows shook and my ear drums rung. A I felt myself fletch but I couldn’t keep my eyes away form her frozen blue ones, ivory smoke came form the gun bellowing out the muzzle and danced around her. as she pulled the hammer again and squeezed the trigger, the grip changed colors of the grip was morphing from black to a swirl of pearl and plum. Greenish smoke came form the shoot that was bigger and flashed brighter then the one before, almost shattered the windows and rumbled the room, the colors settled in to a marbled handle claiming it master never to betray her.
I felt a hot tear fall down my face my face as the smoked cleared, waiting on some kind of paint to hit me or the feeling of something gushing from me. But nothing came. Turing I examined Lunie there was no wounds on her, besides same fear from before she was ok “I want my weapon by tonight, or next shoot will kill them all.”
I stayed facing Lunie as I heard the warden leave. Gun powder lingered aggravating my nostrils, the ringing in my ears seemed to be getting louder, and the trembling in my fingers was unbearable. Nether Lunie or I was hurt but the shoot were fired and her warning was very clear.
“what was that” she was trembling worse than me and tears where starting to force there way out of her.
“the hand of Ganesha…”pulling out my phone I focused to still my trebling enough to press the buttons “pray to the gun to remove whatever obstacles stand in your way, the bigger the obstacle the bigger the explosion” I called mom first it went to voice mail, then i dialed foolish same result.
“mom nor foolish are answering” not a moment later Lunie gabbed my hand and we transported in the middle of down town surrounded by shops and restaurants we just appeared amongst crowd of people walking around. I felt eyes on me and conversations involving us. Franticly I surveyed the area trying to find one of them, I wasn’t sure who she sent us to first getting my attention Lunie pointed across the street at mom in the arms of the judge. Form the way they were looking at each other nothing in the world was bothering them. I didn’t have to say anything, I felt the world enclose around me and opened in a room with knock out roses wall paper, remembering how I knew this room I saw its owner Fabien crouched down to the floor and Foolish was laying on the floor unmoving, no air moving is chest, and a pool of jade blood, growing around his head.
Fabien eyes meet mine “he got shot the bullet came form nowhere, he's not coming back, he always comes back in a meter of seconds but he has moved, I saw him get hit by a canon, beheaded, and ripped apart by wild horses. He always came back”
“can the gun kill some one like him” I didn’t even know where Lunie was, I didn’t even realize I was sitting on the floor by his head helpless I held my hands over him trying to figure out some way to fix him but I was way over my head. i heard Lunie asked her question and her calling my name but I couldn't speak. Foolish was indestructible, with his history he was suppose to survive anything, bounce back from any wound no matter how great the weapon. Yet here he lies by one of my own creations. i tested the gun before but I not on a person, an di would have never guessed it would be able to kill some one like Foolish.
Yelling my name this time with a shack on my shoulder “….twice”
“what”
“She fired the gun twice, and there's only one shout in him.” So who else did she shoot, mom was fine, I shrugged I couldn’t even get my mind to focus on one thing. It was whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. But one thing for sure I was going to kill the warden by the end of the night.
“where can we take him” Lunie sounded more scared then I was.
“no hospital, humans couldn’t help him even if they what they where doing”
“E” barley whispering but I could feel both sets of eyes on me. Taking Foolish’s head I laid him in my lap cradling him close “Uncle E should know what to do, mom would be to hysterical, and no one would ever help a vagabond.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder and for a moment a split second I felt the smallest spark of hope but that was diminish quickly.
The cavern was no longer the bight fun filled carnival before, no one was around as if for the first tie it was closed. None of the games where on, some where covered in dust as if never played and some where rusting and quickly falling part. The smell of old popcorn and grease invaded my noise, a few of the fistive light were still light but flickering out. gather foolish in my arm I stood up looking at the dystopia “hello” my voice echoed off the walls, no response back. then looking ahead there was a figure standing in the fading light, focusing on it, I recognized the guy. Although I never seen him in any other position then setting at the diner bar sleeping over a cup of coffee, I knew him. He didn’t say anything, I wasn’t even sure if he was staring back at me but hs dead eyes where in our direction. Turning he headed down the path I knew to the prize room. the whole way I zoned out knowing what to except when we got there, and trying too prepare myself for it was impossible.
The lights that came from under the door was fading in and out a faint sound of harsh breathing came form behind it. on one side of the door stood the cook head down arms folded , his head hung low and his eyes close. Before reaching the door the bar guy took his stands on the other side of the door posing the same statue like pose as his companion. emotions filled my eyes as I situated foolish in a different position so I could get the knob. Twisting the knob I walked in to see betty jerking up to see us with make up running down her face and eyes red and puffy.
Her hands was glowing a pale light as it applied pressure to Uncle E’s chest, looking up a the ceiling he struggled to breath and only inches from leaving this plain. The lights mimicked his breathing getting dimmer with each breath. I could faintly her betty telling me to lay foolish next to E as I saw my world crashing down around me. I placed him next to E, with a glowing palm Betty laid her other hand on his wound. Hugging my knees to my chest I watched in the corner as Betty worked on them, I could see she was straining to do her best but I could see the end and I wasn’t sure how I was going to piece my life back together after this.
Lunie wrapped her arms over me as she sat with me, and Fabien was standing opposite of us watching it all happen. His eyes red with tears, I wanted to yell, why was he here he wasn’t there for Foolish the whole time I knew him and longer before that. I want to shut , fight , kill, but that was his brother on the floor and I had no right to push him out.
We watched for what seemed to be hours as Betty proceeded her attempt to heal them, but there was no improvement in either of them. The whole time I kept hoping Foolish would pop up and say one of his bizarre stories or one of those stupid jokes. Or even goodbye. Soon the lights in the came to a point you could barley see figures, then Betty’s hands were the only source of light. Then. Nothing. Soft cries came from Lunie and Fabien, I could even here a few sniffs from outside the door, but I was silent, I couldn’t bring myself to cry, yell, to be angry, to fell anything. I was numb beyond comparison, I never thought I would see the person that taught me so much and allowed me to do the same leave.
No hart felt moment no, no last words, just gone.
I saw a faint glow fill up the room but my gaze couldn’t break from there bodies. I heard foot steps near me then a cold wet hand on my chin forcing me to look away. Betty was glaring at me in a way I never experienced from any one, it was a shared pain that only we understood. She placed a lantern next to us as her bloody hand kept hold of me I don't like you, in fact I really hate you. But we are one in the same, we are killers, and enjoy doing so, we take great pleasure and pride in our art. And dare any one to say other wise. Me and you we don’t fell the need to cry, we are not made to cry. We are made to start and finish wars over those that were taken from us” the fir e in her was igniting in me the numbness was still there but it was joined by soothing else “Emotions tend to slow down what we need to do.” Rage, it was rage every thing else became nothing until all there was left was rage “find those that destroyed you” she looked back at them “destroyed us” a small termer came off her lip but went bac to the cold line before.
“Find them, rip the apart. Know this will not bring you peace, but it will warm you to feast on their veil harts.” She pulled me up, standing with her she had a weak smile “I never seen you like this before, your eyes are so black, and teeth so sharp.”
She placed a hand on my cheek, she peered into me, and I her. We had an understanding, nothing was to stop me, noting would save me form the path I was going down. But that didn’t matter, none of it did all that I cared for was satisfying my Rage and hunger.
