Hey guys, I'm not dead yet! Isn't that great!? I get to keep writing and you get to keep reading, it's a win-win situation! I mean, Chapter Ten and we are up to almost ONE THOUSAND VIEWS! You guys are awesome!
Anywhozals, we are back with Man of Mountain!
(With Man of Mountain)
"Where... ryone?... all th-... there?"
"Sir... h-he-... had no id..."
"EXCUS-"
"Please sir I-"
"SILENCE!"
CRACK!
"EHAAAAAAA!"
Old Man of the Mountain flinched at the resonating sound of a pained scream. That cry of pain sounded familiar... the spirit's thoughts turned from the scream to a more pressing issue…
Where was he? Who were these people?
Slowly it all returned to him.
The fighting.
The stranger in the woods.
Man in Moon's only half feasible plan.
"PLEASE SIR, I BEG OF YOU-"
CRACK!
The thud of the mercenary's body hitting the floor brought Man's attention to his own throbbing skull.
Nightshade powder.
Typical tool used by mercs to subdue their targets. But WHY him? It wasn't like he had anything of value to anyone…
"P-pah-pah-leease... Master, have m-mercy... I won't leh leh leh-t you down ah again!"
"You better not!"
The snarl of rage turned Ol' Man's blood to ice, it beheld SUCH a tone of ferocity and violence that it sounded as if this man was Terror personified.
"The ONE and ONLY reason you still have your life is because I need a huntsman now more than ever. HOWEVER-"
The stranger cried out in pain.
"-there are PLENTY of able body huntsman and trackers out there. DON'T-"
The poor victim yelped in agony as he was slammed into a wall.
"Disappoint me."
Master?... so whoever had taken him was a slave owner... Man knew where this was going.
"Get your sorry carcass out there, get a new crew, and GET ME THAT BOY!"
The man yelped as he was tossed to the floor.
SLAM! A heavy door attacked its corresponding doorway, followed by the clunk of a heavy duty lock.
There was silence a moment, but Man was not so easily fooled. The slave master was still there, no doubt looking him over and creating an estimated worth value.
Man's nose itched suddenly. There was rugged cloth over his head, a burlap sack most likely. He would have scratched the infuriating itch at the bridge of his nose, but his hands were restrained behind him, to the sides of a hearty chair. His arms had been locked at their elbows to the chair back, and his torso was wrapped in what felt like a dozen pounds of the same coarse rope, pinning him to the throne.
His knees had been tied together, and then his ankles bound to the chair legs.
All of the knots were expertly done, and excessively tight- even if his bonds were removed right then and there his hands wouldn't have enough circulation to scratch the increasingly uncomfortable itch.
The clip clop of fine, expensive shoes roused Man from his thoughts.
Scuff,... scuff,... scuff,... they approached him with long, slow strides.
Man almost startled when he suddenly felt a tense grip yank the rough burlap none too gently off his head.
"Stupid fools." The menacing voice hissed in displeasure. "Blinding a blind man. What's he going to do, SMELL his way out?"
Man blinked owlishly, lids slowly opening and closing over milky orbs, not even bothering to conceal his consciousness. He blinked a bit faster in surprise as he felt himself jabbed in the shoulder by a bony finger.
"Is that what you're planning on, old man? Sniffing your way out? Are you going to follow your scent out of my complex?" The cold voice barked a harsh laugh that sounded more like a wheeze of air. "Sorry, not today..." the voice lowered. "...not on my watch."
Man held his tongue, refusing to play this sick, twisted monster's game.
His captor snorted, the distinguished sound of hands landing on hips, no doubt on the waist band of some fancy slacks, following soon after.
"Well, he wasn't lying, you are as stubborn as a mule, you know that?"
Still Man did not reply.
"Of course you do." The man's voice held a tone of mirth to it, "At any rate, let's change the subject."
There was the grating sound of a chair being dragged, the man no doubt saddling the back.
"So... have you heard from that guy who was dragged under the earth by his own creation? Well… there are a lot of those…however this one is that guy, oh what's his name... you know the one the Guardians of Childhood are always stomping on? The, uh, Lord of Fear dude, remember him?"
Man held back a few mouthy, unwise comments knowing that the man before him was trying to bait him.
"Oh come on, old timer! It's gonna kill me, I know it! Something with a P... Pith... Pirth... P-something Bla- Pitch!" a loud snap filled the air, an unpleasantly satisfied sound as the man recalled the name. "Pitch Black, that's it."
Man felt himself stiffen despite his practical mind- if ONLY this guy had actually forgotten the Nightmare King's name...
There was a creak as the man leaned into the chair back.
"So you do know him?"
Man bit his tongue.
"Look, Man in Mountain, I respect you."
Man raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I've seen a snowy winter or two on more than enough ranges. Those are for tough guys like you and me.
"And your birds. Those friends of yours really keep my business flowing-"
"I NEVER WOULD HAVE LET THAT PASS THROUGH!" Man snapped in an unstoppable fury.
"It speaks!" Sarcasm rolled off this guy like an avalanche rolled down a mountain.
Man ground his teeth, "I had no idea what were in those letters…"
"You don't think I knew that? What you think I'd make it obvious? 'Oh here you go, your fresh slave will be there within the week.'? No, I'm not foolish."
"And yet you've kidnapped a well-known mailman and confessed your slavery business to him?"
The man laughed, a deep, sadistic gust of chopped air. The laughter rolled on and on, until Man began to wonder, despite himself, just WHAT it was this guy had up his sleeve...
Finally his captor pulled himself together.
"Good one, old timer. But, your BIRDS run the letters, not you anymore." The room echoed as the man rose from his chair, and began a slow, predatorily march around Man.
"And you already know I'm a slave owner, don't you?
"Furthermore!..."
Rough, cruel hands grasped the back of Man's chair as the voice lowered to a deep, cold tone.
"...who knows you're here?"
Again Man felt his muscles tighten, despite his mind practically screaming at them to remain still- in the end, human instinct won over.
The man chuckled, retreating from Man's ear.
"Ooh, tough one, eh?"
Man surreptitiously tested the too tight cords around his wrists, wanting nothing more than to pop a good hit into that smug sigh of satisfaction.
"So, you are in a predicament, yes? What if I told you I am willing to give you an offer? A bargain deal, so to speak."
Man's brows furrowed in puzzlement as he tried to guess his captor's move.
"Here's how you play. YOU tell ME where Mister 'Black'- " the man practically spit the name out. "- and the little evasive BRAT are... and I let you go."
Man could not help himself. He began to laugh. "Really? You REALLY expect me... to fall... for THAT? That, what's the catch? You're a liar and the answer's always no?"
"No catch."
Man stopped. What was this guy up to...
"You tell me where they are, and you walk away from here. Happy as lark, free as a bird, you name it. A location and you are on your way."
"I'm not buying it."
There was silence in the room for a minute.
"Fine."
Man straightened in his seat. "Fine? Is that it? No yelling, no torture, no chopping my back to bits with your fancy whip? Fine?"
"Fine."
Man bit his lip.
"What are you up to?"
"Let's start over." His captor sighed "Now, listen to me, and listen carefully."
"I am not aware that I have ever failed to listen."* Man tested his luck. It did not hold.
There was a scuffle and before the mailman of the Realm could determine where from, there was a thud and looming presence of a strong hand on the chair back, just over his right shoulder. Man refused to flinch.
His captor's breath smelled heavily of mint, but its raggedness made it a harsh, over powering stench. It was obvious the man was losing patience, and most likely time.
"Don't PLAY with me, old timer!" He hissed. "I KNOW you saw him! You were THERE, with that bumbling fool and MY SLAVE! You were there, you know where they are. You CAN. NOT. LIE. TO ME!"
Something round and hard was shoved into Man's restrained palm, a small stone with a- Man's blind eyes widened in understanding- 'Sighter's rune etched into its smooth surface.
The last message of the rune played in Man's mind, himself with Pitch, reading off the constraints with his finger on the band.
"Oh, you get it now, don't you? You can't fool me. I am going to get that slave back with or without your help, but I'm telling you now it will be much easier for you to just confess!"
Man's shoulders ached from being tense- the fact that this man was so justifiably confident stressed the already anxious spirit.
It was obvious the man only wanted the boy back to stay out of legal trouble. But even so, why did he sound so frantic...
"There's something about this boy, isn't there?"
Silence.
Man smiled "I wonder what makes him so special. Does it have anything to do with that one shape rune-"
"KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY SHAPE SHIFTER, YOU GREEDY DIRT BAG!"
CRACK!
Man cried out in pain and surprise as a whip arced across his faced, from the left corner of his mouth to his right ear. Ol' Man's head slumped to his shoulder, trying to staunch the copper-scented crimson from escaping.
The furious words echoed in his mind "Shape shifter?" He rasped. "I never... sssaid anything about..." Suddenly Man's mind snapped back to place and he smiled the best he could.
"The boy's a shape-shifter." Man began to laugh, an unstable, frightened laugh. "The boy! A shape shifter! It's no Moon damned wonder you are so worried..."
The thought of Pitch cradling the child's head filled his mind. Pitch was harboring a shape shifter...
Man knew it was a myth that all shape-shifters were evil and soulless. Man knew the true story of the shape shifters, the respectable ones that were slaughtered versus the power hungry soul thieves that slaughtered.
That boy was human, his true form revealed by the band- thus, he was of the pure ones.
No, that boy wasn't going to kill Pitch.
However the hunters that had been sent after the child would.
"We are both in a predicament, aren't we?" Man hissed in pain as he tried to speak fully. "Nobody knows I'm here, and you won't let me out with this knowledge. But, if word got out that there's a shape shifter on the loose... that's a spirit hunter's prize catch. We're on the same boat... aren't we?"
A pause. Then the thunk of the wooden whip handle against the floor.
"A sinking one at that."
"Do you have a plan, captain?" Man growled in anger and pain.
"Look, smart ass. I can keep that friend of yours out of trouble if you would just TELL ME where they are. I can deal with them if and when my slave is back on my property. When I get him back, it won't matter if you go yell about this from Mount Everest, you could go free."
Man pondered this, if he told the guy now, Pitch wouldn't have time to get attached to the boy. It would erase Man in Moon's plan completely. Ol' Man could explain everything once he got back! But...if Moon's plan did work in time…but Pitch was in danger NOW. He didn't have TIME to wait for Man in Moon's plan to develop.
"Final offer."
Man sighed and slumped, closing his blind eyes.
The master 'tsk'ed. "Fine, if that's how you want to be-"
"Burgess." Man blurted, he could hear the man pause in his step.
"Beg your pardon?"
Man opened his eyes and faced the man "They're in Burgess, Massachusetts of North America. A tiny shack in the woods to the west of the town."
There was a long silence.
Suddenly there was the scuff scuff scuff again, and the bonds around his wrists were sawed gently off. Then one foot, then the other. The ropes collapsed from around his legs and fell off his arms. The ones on his chest plopped into his lap, which Man promptly shoved off. The elderly spirit rubbed his aching wrists, trying to resurrect lost circulation.
"There, that wasn't so hard, now was it?"
Man didn't reply.
"Whatever, I'm afraid I have to have you stay here until I have my slave back where he belongs. No offense, but you and Pitch are close, it wouldn't surprise me if you were leading me to a dead end."
There was a firm grip on Man's jaw and his face was shoved up to look the man in the eye.
"There's a price for that you know..."
Man simply scowled.
With a controlled chuckle, the man shoved the elderly face away.
"I will send someone in for you in a moment. In the meantime, thank you Mister Mountain."
And with that- CLUNK! SLAM! CLUNK!- the man was gone.
Leaving the old spirit alone whispering to no one "I didn't do it for you."
(Ignorance POV)
The black leather loafers clopped swiftly down the hall from the whipping chamber. The old oaf would have to be moved to a minor hotel room, but Ignorance considered that a small sacrifice.
Children on either side of him, from cages of iron bars and stone, windowless and dark, either cowered in his shadow cast from torches lined along the wall, or stood defiant and waiting for him at the front of their cells.
Ignorance paid them no heed. He trotted up the stairs and out of the holding cells in the second basement, the heavy steel door groaning in effort. The spirit followed the stair to the main floor, which opened up behind his secretary's desk.
The woodland nymph sat busily typing at a monitor, a satyr across the counter making disastrous attempts to flirt with her.
Ignorance felt a pride for her as she continued smoothly with her job.
But he couldn't just sit and watch. Pulling off his most furious glare, he stared at the obnoxious spirit until he happened to glance up and make eye contact. The hotel's co operator smiled threateningly as the satyr's jaw snapped shut like a trap.
"Ignorance!"
"Innocence, I thought I told you not to come down here." Ignorance inhaled sharply, knowing that his brother would be heavily opposed to his…techniques in getting information from a blind ancient spirit.
Innocence strode up beside him "I heard that you found someone that had seen the monster…I was just wondering if he told you where to find it."
Ignorance, still staring at the trembling satyr, simply replied "I got everything I needed."
"Really? He told you where to find him…without asking for anything?" Innocence made a face, he had been sure that the guy would ask for money for such a rare creature.
"He only asked to be allowed to stay in one of the rooms." Ignorance grinned at his quick conceived lie, "Would you be so kind to prepare one for him?"
"Of course brother." Innocence nodded, quickly leaving to follow instructions.
*footnote: direct quote from the Greek tragedy Antigone, written by Sophocles (496?-406 BC)
I love Innocence, does anybody else love Innocence? He's just so adorable! Anywhozals, REVIEW ME PLEASE I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS! Hooroo!