124 Unusual weapon of murder
Music Recommendation: Evil in the deep- ASKII
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In the Dungeon in Raven’s town, Eve sat in the same position as she had earlier. The pain inflicted on her skin didn’t let her rest, and the slightest movements of her body rubbed against the fabric of her dress.
The guard named Deacon hadn’t returned to her cell. Eve couldn’t help but count every second without his presence as a blessing. She stared at the dark wall that she rested the side of her body against.
Eve used her strength to push herself and take a look outside the small window. She tried to see where the sun was now positioned in the sky, and though she couldn’t see it, the colour of the sky had softened as if it was preparing for the time of evening.
She keenly tried to listen to every conversation that was taking place in this passage and the distant voices that came from the guards at the end of the corridor.
As dry as her mouth and throat had turned, Eve tried to bring in as much spit as she could in her mouth. Seconds felt minute, and every minute that passed by felt like an hour had passed.
When Eve stood up, using all the energy she could muster, her eyes burned because of her dress fabric rubbing against her tender skin. Taking deep breaths, she walked to the front of the cell and waited for a guard to appear. A guard she hoped wouldn’t be Deacon because she wouldn’t be able to pull the plan in her mind. Even if it wasn’t foolproof, she wanted to try to escape from here and not wait to be violated.
Her legs were weak as she tried to stand still, but they lightly started to shake. At first, she believed it was because of the lashes. But then she started to count the days.
No…
The last Eve had bathed with the salts was six days ago. Forget about getting salts here. The guards had refused to give her a glass of water to drink.
This was now or never; now was the only option she could choose.
When she finally heard footsteps echo at the other end of the passage, she noticed it was another guard who was earlier with Deacon.
Calming her heart and mind so that she could focus and not panic, she waited for him. If she missed the timing, she would need to wait again and she didn’t have that energy. One of the prisoners, noticing Eve stand in the front side of the cell, commented,
“Such a waste of blood here. I can smell the sweetness drifting from you. Do you want to come into my cell? I will make it worth your night,” the prisoner chuckled.
But Eve didn’t react, and she heard the guard use his baton to hush the chatter of voices in here. At the same time, Eve’s eyes moved to the back, and foam started dripping from her mouth. The foam didn’t stop, and the prisoner who had earlier commented noticed it.
“Hey! What’s happening?” Questioned the prisoner, which alerted the other prisoners to see what was going on, while a few didn’t bother. “Yo!”
Foam continued to come out of Eve’s lips, and she fell to the ground, her body starting to convulse.
The guard in the passage quickly made his way to Eve’s cell and noticed the human’s mouth foam. Not knowing what had happened, he opened the gate and quickly entered her cell. He tried to wake up the woman, shaking her shoulder,
“Wake up! What did you eat?!” Demanded the guard. “Can you hear me! Wake up!”
“What happened?” another guard appeared.
“Get me a glass of water!”
“I don’t think she is going to live,” said the second guard, making the first one curse.
“Deacon is going to get us all screwed! I knew it was a bad idea to whip her. She’s involved in the case that belongs to the council!” The first guard complained before signalling the second guard. He said, “Help me carry her. Let us take her to Fletcher so that he can take a look at her on what’s wrong with her. We need her in talking condition when the council comes to interrogate her. Quick!”
The first guard puts his arms around Eve’s underarms to lift her upper body, while the other guard caught hold of her legs. Lifting her, they took her out of the cell and carried her to the physician’s room in the Dungeon.
The Dungeon was built wide with two floors. On reaching a laboratory-like place, the guards placed the unconscious woman on the stone cold table.
“Where is Fletcher?” asked one of the guards, noticing the man not in the room.
“Let us go find him to come check on her,” and their footsteps quietly receded away from the place.
After two minutes of silence, Eve opened her eyes before looking around her.
Finding the opportunity, she escaped from the room and tried to find a way outside this prison-like Dungeon. She would have hid somewhere, until someone would come to get her out. But no one would come to help her.
While Eve tried to stay out of the guards’ sights as she walked through the corridors, not too far away from the Dungeon, the village head looked at Vincent in fear, who had pulled out his black gloves from his hands.
Mr. Jarman stumbled backwards to keep distance from this vampire. He warned Vincent, “Stop right there.”
Vincent stretched his fingers while looking at them, “Are you ready to die, Mr. Jarman?” When his hand reached the human’s chest, the human shrieked in fear and raised his hands as if surrendering.
“I will tell you the truth! I will tell you everything! Please, don’t kill me!” the village head blurted.
Vincent’s eyes narrowed, and he said, “Keep speaking.”
The human’s lips trembled, and he fumbled through words, “I-I didn’t kill Mr. Fowler. I didn’t know he was going to die. That day I saw his carriage in my village, and was going to talk to him, when I saw him walk on the other side of the village. I was only curious and I followed him. Someone came to meet him, but I don’t know what the person looks like.”
“Did you momentarily turn blind?” Vincent deadpanned and Mr. Jarman gulped before shaking his head.
“The person wore this hood that covered the person’s face. I went back to call for help, but by the time I returned–“
“There was a little crowd?” The man quickly nodded at Vincent’s words. “Who knows, the mystery man must have been you. After all, you had a temporary memory loss for a few seconds.”
Mr. Jarman’s eyes widened, and he quickly defended himself,” I was scared that the murder blame would fall upon me. But I swear I had nothing to do with it!”
“The council will decide on what to do with you once we reach there,” stated Vincent, and the man looked at him in horror. He ordered the guard, “Put this one in the carriage. We are going to Darthmore.”
Mr. Jarman continued to protest while being dragged back to where the carriage was parked. The guard pushed the man into the carriage, and the human pleaded, “Please spare me! It was the woman, who murdered him! She must have used the weapon she had with her.”
“How interesting,” came the dull words from Vincent, and he said, “It would be better to comply and speak the truth in front of the members of council and the inner circle. After all, you don’t want to accidentally fall out of the carriage on our way, would you?”
“It wasn’t me, but the woman. The person, who killed was definitely a woman,” the village head tried to save himself by randomly picking the gender of the murderer. “She definitely used her umbrella which had blood in it.”
Vincent paused for a moment and repeated, “Umbrella?”
Mr. Jarman vigorously nodded, “She must have used the tip of her umbrella.”
A frown appeared on Vincent’s face on hearing the unusual weapon used. He demanded, “What colour?”
“What?”
“The umbrella,” Vincent’s eyes narrowed at the human.
“Y-yes, that… that I d-don’t remember,” replied the human, and when he noticed the vampire’s eyes darkened, he quickly said, “The umbrella should still be there in my office. I seized it when the woman was captured. I-I can go and get it…”
The village head climbed out of the carriage to retrieve the said weapon and the guard followed him. The human returned after three minutes with the purple umbrella in his hand. Vincent’s eyes narrowed further and he glared,
“Where is the woman?”