A/N: Sorry that this took a while to update, but we finally get to the meat of the story. And Caspian.

Felicia bit back a yelp and immediately crawled into the hole in the wooden door. Caspari had been looking somewhere else and hadn't seen her.

Yet.

Ducking into the dim basement, she heard the hefty crunch of boots on the steps. She looked around frantically for somewhere to hide but couldn't see. The only light came from what was illuminated by the hole in the door.

Felicia felt around and found what seemed to be a heavy steel freezer. It was backed up to a wall, but there was a small gap, too small for an adult to pass through but perfect for someone her size. She couldn't fit with the football, having to suck her belly in, so she let its air out with a loud hiss. There was a rustling sound and a muffled grunt as the lock began to turn. She was behind the freezer when she heard the heavy wooden door open with a creak.

The light turned on, a flickering florescent tube casting a harsh bluish light. If she stayed low and tight, he might not see her. There was a shelf bolted into the wall just above the freezer that would block him from seeing her unless he deliberately looked behind the freezer. He might not hear her breathing either because the freezer had a loud whine, suggesting to Felicia its motor was old.

Then she heard something beyond the freezer.

Felicia was surprised.

Caspari was singing to himself. He seemed to be muttering a chant in a very low voice, almost a whisper. She couldn't understand what he was saying. It certainly wasn't Romanian. Or English, for that matter. It was weird. She never thought of a moroi being even the least bit musical. It sounded very hard but catchy. It kinda reminded Felicia of some of the rock music Marcel listened to.

Her breath caught in her throat as she suddenly caught a whiff of something. It was metallic smelling and foul, like something was rotting away.

Now that she focused, the whole room smelt like old metallic, coppery coins.

Bloody.

Then the sound of a table being pulled out, metal legs scraping against the sandy floor.

A heavy meaty sound hit the metal table. Then she heard something being pulled, like leather on metal.

She heard the soft snick of a refrigerator door opening, and the crack that sounded like Caspari was popping the cap off a bottle. Bottle of blood? Maybe some hard liquor? Nothing said moroi couldn't eat human food, but usually, they preferred humans to human food. Maybe hunting was sparse now?

Then from the direction of the table, there was a sputtering sound, gasping. Then the clink of a glass bottle being placed on a metal surface.

"Now, now," Caspari said in an upbeat tone, sounding like he was scolding a naughty kitten. "No trying to get away."

Felicia tried not to breathe.

A guttural wet popping sound was heard, and a desperate thumping sound. Like a hand trying to get free.

"You're tied up. Do you really think you can get away?" Caspari said, amused.

Felicia bit her lip, holding the deflated football close to her chest, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Let's see, knives, knives, knives, oh so many knives," Caspari muttered. "Paring knife? No, too short. It won't reach in deep enough. Bread knife? Makes nice serrations, but not today. Oooohhh, carving knife."

Felicia could feel her chest about to burst, and her eyes burned.

"Ah, my old favourite—chef's knife," Caspari said brightly. "Always extra fun."

A muffled sob could be heard.

"Look, I had to cut your tongue out because you wouldn't stop talking. It's nothing personal," the sound of metal striking a welt stone could be heard, a sharp whish whish sound.

A blubbering moan resounded throughout the room, and Felicia was sure she was as white as little Theodor's fur. She felt something poke her side and realized she still had the moroi blade. She slowly stuffed the deflated ball into her shirt and wrapped her hand tightly around the knife's handle.

"I hate dull blades," Caspari said conversationally. "I mean, I hate it the most on swords. Nothing is worse than getting into a swordfight and only partially decapitating your opponent."

Pause.

"Okay, sometimes it's interesting slowly cutting a head off," the monster continued. "Everyone's brave when they have a sword in their hands—almost everyone begs when they are halfway to death. Feeling the bones crush under the weight of the power of your hands, their voices crying out to you for mercy."

Felicia was as trapped as the poor soul being tormented by this moroi. She looked down at her knife. She saw Caspari briefly, and while he wasn't the biggest man she had ever seen, he was clearly physically fit and strong. Of course, he was strong; he was a supernatural creature of the night. Moroi might not be immortal, but they were powerful. Her knife felt as useful as little Theodor's tiny pathetic teeth were when he was biting. He sometimes bit her because he got excited. It did nothing.

"Did you know my brother is Death," the moroi said conversationally to his victim. "Back in the day, we were quite close. That's because he's a rat like me—he does what he has to in order to survive. Oh, he'd deny it, liked to say of all of us he'd kill me first, but that's just because he didn't want the idiot to be jealous."

This moroi didn't mean Death death, did he? Like the Grim Reaper? Or did he mean the Angel of Death?

"After all, while his body count was higher than mine, which is fitting for Death, mine was far more artistic," Caspari mused. "Maybe deep down, I'm more of an artist than a pragmatist. What do you think?"

Also, what did he mean that he was Death's brother? She didn't know Death had a brother. She vaguely recalled because it sounded so strange, a priest in church remarking offhandedly that disease is poetically called Death's firstborn, but nobody said anything about Death having a brother.

A harsh guttural whine sounded, and Caspari clicked his tongue. "I can see your lips moving—that's not a very nice thing to say."

Without warning, a sharp splitting sound of flesh being torn apart is heard, followed swiftly by a bellowing agonizing scream. A man's scream. It was mangled though, off-kilter, because…because the man's tongue was cut out. And like the terror of the night he was, Caspari was laughing, laughing uproariously, as if it was funny.

Felicia was crying. She could almost feel the man's fear, misery, and heartache. She knew the moroi were bad, but she never knew they were this black-heartedly evil.

Lord, protect me, she found herself praying desperately. She had no idea how she was going to get out of there. It looked like Caspari would be here for quite some time…enjoying himself…and there was nothing she could do for his poor victim. She was no idiot. Even half a dozen grown men couldn't fight a moroi. There was nothing a little girl could do.

Another loud plinking sound was heard, followed by screaming that was starting to taper off weakly.

"You mortals die too easily," Caspari complained. "Just a moment. I'll get some bandages for that."

She heard footsteps approaching.

Felicia was a statue. She didn't breathe. She didn't move.

Don't see me, don't see me, don't see me.

Humming to himself, Caspari swiped something off the shelf above the freezer. Then the heavy breathing from the table became a whine as loud ripping sounds were heard. Caspari was ripping the medical tape he apparently kept around to keep his victims from dying too quickly.

A loud smack was heard, and then to Felicia's horror, a roll of medical tape came into view from her left.

"See, that's the problem with my oldest brother. He was just obsessed with killing people as quickly as possible," Caspari was walking towards the tape. He would bend down and see her.

Then he would kill her.

Or worse.

Thieves and cops. Don't think of this as a matter of life or death. This is just a challenging game of thieves and cops. She's a thief. A very skilled and willy thief.

Felicia scooted silently over to the right side of the freezer. She watched the shadows carefully as she slipped out from the side of the freezer, still crouched down and hidden from view. She heard Caspari start to rise and turn towards the big metal table. As he rose up, she immediately retreated back to the area behind the freezer.

I am not a little girl, Felicia told her racing, panicking heart. I am a cunning thief. I gotta stay hidden so the cops don't find me.

"He took no time to savour things," Caspari continued. "And people feared him more than any of us for some reason."

Moaning on the table.

Desperate not to hear it, Felicia tried to see out the cracks. She could see that on her right side was a set of wooden stairs that led upwards, presumably to the second floor. There was a light switch at the bottom of the stairs. Then to her left was the passageway that led out of the basement and into the garden. Another light switch was there. Kinda dumb that the switch for the basement was at the bottom of the stairs, but presumably, that was because the electricity was added long after the house was built and had been done incorrectly.

"Yeah, even more than our leader, my other brother Pestilence. That made him mad, but not as mad as Death. Death's insane, you know."

Pestilence? That's just another name for Disease, right? Felicia was incredibly confused. Wasn't Disease the firstborn son of Death? How could Caspari be both Death's brother and Pestilence's brother if Pestilence was the son of Death? Wouldn't that make Caspari Pestilence's uncle?

Maybe anthropomorphic symbols of doom had more complicated relationships than human beings did.

A wet sloppy sound was heard. It kinda reminded her of dogs tearing into their kibble. Gums smacking, like someone drinking a sloppy soup. The man on the table yelled loudly. He sounded heartbreakingly desperate.

Felicia somehow felt even more blood drain from her face.

Caspari was drinking his blood!

"Not me," Caspari said as the table groaned under his victim's struggles. "I am completely sane. I see. I kill. I consume. Very simple."

The rattling of the table was punctuated by gasps. Felicia realized Caspari must have deliberately left the man without a gag so he could listen to him. She felt more than sick. She felt like sobbing but reminded herself thieves don't cry. They wait and listen.

Felicia was forced to listen.

"Pestilence was always grandstanding and blathering on and on." Rip and tear. "He never shut up."

Pot. Kettle.

"Death didn't talk much. He was more of the strong silent psychotic type," Caspari seemed quite keen to get all this off his chest. "Sometimes he'd snap, but then he'd go months if not years saying nothing at all."

She heard a wet sound hit the wall and froze as red…blood began to drip down it, having been splattered from…the table.

Oh, dear God, save me, she prayed frantically.

"Which got annoying because then we'd kinda forget about him, and we'd wake up to discover he'd killed all our slaves overnight," Caspari said with a huff. "It made for good eating for me, but I don't want to clean my tent. You know."

The groaning scrambling sound on the table let Felicia know that his victim wasn't really processing what he was saying. Caspari was basically just talking to himself. Papa said that was a sign of an egomaniac. She wasn't quite sure what that was, just that Papa didn't like people like that. She agreed with her father, but she was glad Caspari was talking as it distracted from the…other sounds she could hear.

She would never un-hear this.

"Then Pestilence would flip out, and naturally enough, the two would fight to the death. If Pestilence won, he would just stab him and leave." More blood flew towards the wall… and as she looked closer, she could see it was freshly painted. Felicia was no idiot. He must have done this over and over and painted right over the dingy grey wall.

But with the dirt floor, she could now see crusted over with blood; painting the wall was pointless. A whole lake of blood must have flowed through this room, sinking into the ground. For all Felicia knew, the garden smelt like blood because it was seeping up from this room.

"But if Death won, he would carve his heart out with his bare hands before stomping away…and just leave the heart sitting there," Caspari now sounded outraged. "Not even do anything with it."

What could you do with a heart? Like seriously. Felicia sometimes drew pretty pink hearts during art time at school. Sometimes she drew red ones, and sometimes blue ones just for fun. Pink was the best, though. Much better than red. She then looked over at the rapidly spreading red-speckled wall and felt her stomach heave, which she forced down. She was a strong, resilient, take-charge thief. Gore does not scare her.

"So naturally, I ate it. I'm not wasteful."

Felicia just blinked in shock. He ate…Pestilence's heart. And apparently, more than once.

Don't people only have one heart, though? Even the moroi only have one heart, although today was convincing her quite readily they might have no heart but a black pit in their chests. Which would make it difficult to remove his heart to kill him. Maybe someone could try decapitating him. Almost anything can be killed by cutting off the head.

That still didn't explain how Pestilence could have his heart ripped out and eaten multiple times. Perhaps the embodiments of mortal doom have multiple hearts?

"He never knew about it till the idiot told him," Caspari said, and there was a sucking sound. "War is dumb."

Felicia was really, really confused.

"You know, I saw Death the other day," Caspari said as a sawing sound was heard, and the screaming began to get louder. Felicia held herself as tightly as possible. "He was with this girl. They were holding hands, kissing."

Death was holding hands with a girl. And kissing? Ewww. Why people did that, Felicia didn't really know. But she felt like she was missing something here. Death had a friend. Holding hands was something you did with friends, wasn't it? Well, certain kinds of friends, at least. And so was kissing, as gross as it was. At least, that's what Marcel did with Rodica, and mama called her Marcel's 'special friend.'

Gasping, gurgling sound. Felicia saw a knife suddenly fall near the edge of the floor, and Caspari's shadow followed it. Felicia slipped out to the opposite side to duck out of view as he grabbed it and then sank back into the safe, dark area behind the freezer.

"I think he's probably been antisocial for long enough, might be fun to have some fun with her if you know what I mean," Caspari said, teasing. "Then I'll probably carve her up and eat her. Maybe Death will join in."

The hacking sound of putrid vomit was heard, along with acrid urine. More blood mixed with something else hit the wall and the floor, and Felicia cowered. As she cowered, she could now see in the dim light behind the freezer that the bottom was oddly reddish.

More blood. There was a bloody freezer burn.

"Or maybe not," Caspari admitted. "He's always been oddly squeamish about eating mortals. Not me, obviously."

A crunch resounded throughout the room. The crunch of teeth on bone. Then a shriek was heard, and more blood hit the back wall and…a finger. An honest-to-goodness human finger!

Caspari had to get tired of this at some point. Or the poor man would die. But the longer this went on, the closer it got to the night, and once it was night, Caspari's moroi senses would be heightened, and he would smell the little girl beneath all the muck in this room.

Then she would join all the dead in this room, the blood on the walls, the poop, and pee everywhere, and her screams would rise from the ground.

No! Felicia mentally shook herself. She would survive. She was the absolute best at thieves and cops. There was no thief in the world as cunning as her. She would just have to wait for an opportunity to escape.

The jarring sound of a piece of glass breaking was punctuated by Caspari saying something she didn't quite know the meaning of, but her mama washed her brother's mouth out with soap when he said it, so it was probably bad.

The sound of a fridge opening.

"That was my last beer down here," Caspari complained. "Alright, you wait here. I'm going to get another one."

Then the sound of heavy boots trudging up a set of stairs. The sound of the door opening from her right. Which meant Caspari went upstairs into the house. Which meant he wasn't here so Felicia could escape.

Quickly, she squeezed out of the space behind the freezer, the right side easier to slip out of. Her legs were shaking, and her face was white. She almost hit the back wall in her desperation to get out. The room was a slaughterhouse covered in blood and gore. Everywhere she looked. She stepped in broken glass.

She swallowed and turned to leave when she looked at the big metal table, like the ones you'd see in a hospital. It was dripping in blood.

Felicia gasped.

On the table covered in blood was Horațiu Vasile. His leg was almost sawed off. He was missing a finger. There were freaking bite marks all over him. His terrified eyes widened as they saw her. She heard footsteps and knew that Caspari was getting ready to enter. He would see her standing in the middle of his torture chamber. He would then kill her.

She couldn't save Vasile, he was strapped to the table with thick leather bands, and there was no way she could cut him out in the few seconds she had, but she could give him a fighting chance.

Felicia pressed Ioana's grandfather's knife into his hand and, backing away, hit the light, plunging them into darkness just as the door to the upper floor burst open.

"What th—"

Felicia ran towards the passageway leading out and knew there was no way she'd get there before Caspari hit the other light switch at the bottom of the steps. But she had a head-start. Maybe if she…

Vasile let out a deafening roar, the sound limited by the lack…lack of a tongue but still powerful in volume. The light went on, and Caspari yelled as Vasile attacked him, the sound of a knife hitting flesh, and then…she was out of the hole and out of the basement, somehow escaping into the very late afternoon, the ground wet as it had begun to rain.

She didn't know if Caspari saw her and was prevented or if he was distracted by Vasile, but Felicia was not going to wait around. If anyone could use a knife at that angle, it was double-jointed Vasile.

He distracted Caspari. He helped her.

He saved her.

Thank you, God, she breathed. Her prayers had been answered. Had Vasile not...no, best not think about it.

Felicia's eyes burned as she ran up the steps. Reaching the garden, she tore off towards the hole in the fence. She squeezed through and was out, but she wasn't safe. She had to get away.

She began running towards Ioana's grandmother's house, running as fast as she could, not stopping to breathe or think but putting as much distance between herself and that deranged crazed moroi. Her black hair flowed freely behind her head, the brown scrunchie long gone.

The rain began to fall even harder. What was a drizzle before was now bathtubs of water. She was soaked to the bone.

No, she began to slow down as she neared Ioana's place.

The moroi would find her and kill her and her best friends if she went there.

Felicia strained to think of where she could go that would be safe from such a creature.

Who would believe her?

Ioana's grandmother wouldn't be home at this time, having ducked out to play cards with the other old ladies in the village.

She couldn't go to her parents and say a moroi was in the process of murdering old man Vasile. Well, she could, but they wouldn't believe her. Plus, she would lead that vile creature of the night to her loved ones. The only part that they would hear is that she broke into someone's house and ground her.

Standing there, she nervously stared at the house and stood on one foot and then on the other. Then she felt an irritation on her ankle suddenly come free. Looking down, she did now yelp. That was Vasile's finger! It must have gotten caught on the broken hem of her jeans. She wanted to leave the finger there but realized it would act as a breadcrumb to the moroi. It was getting close to dark, and his sense of smell would be heightened. Disgusted, she reached down and, plucking the finger, shoved it into her pocket. The garlic bulb Aurelia gave her would mask the smell. She would dispose of it later.

She rubbed her hands over the grass, and as she did so, she had visions of Caspari murdering her friends.

Felicia bypassed Ioana's house.