Exams+ Tight schedule = Short chapter is short
Sorry about that! I'll make it up to you in the next one. Also, I just want to mention that Jeneviere was not killed yet by the Thief-Taker General; nevertheless, I hope you'll enjoy!

She felt the cold cement that touched her skin. She shivered, her body ached from everywhere. She remembered that the Thief-Taker General tortured her but her mind was foggy when it came to details. She also remembered him hitting her multiple times before throwing her again in this filthy hole. Her cheek had a tingling feeling; she brushed her light fingers on it, cringing at the sensation of burning when she touched the open wound. Did she slept or did she just loose conscience? Lydia didn't know anymore lying in the dark, tears covering her face once again; loosing every bit of humanity that was left in her. She was sobbing for help, scared and helpless. She remembered the last words the disgusting man told her, laughing, spitting at her face: "You'll be hanged tomorrow evening, in the meantime, try to enjoy your stay till then."

The streets of The City were pretty quiet these days. The roaming sick beggars were practically invisible in the shadows, asking for money to everyone who dared to adventure themselves in the alleys. Amos was one of them. Yes he'd ask for money, but his real pleasure was to listen about what the Watchmen had to say when they were on duty. He'd follow them around, all night long, only to get gossips. He'd always been curious and in this kind of days, what was there to do except listening to gossips? Everybody that surrounded him was either dead or sick with the gloom. Gossips were also a good way to get his hand on money; he kind of worked for Basso, who liked to know everything that was going on in town. The fat man also got his jobs from sources like this. As usual he followed around, trying to not get arrested. He knew that he would be severely punished if he was caught for snooping around, but who really cared? The two young Watchmen were talking about a new prisoner and Amos jumped on the opportunity.
"Did you hear about the piece of meat that the General brought inside two days ago?"
"Aye! Fuck did I wish to see her before she's a goner!"
The first one laughed.
"Any idea why she's left rotting in there?"
"Not at all mate," he lifted his shoulders "You never know these days."
The second one nodded, approving every little thing his co-worker said.
"I'll bet it has something to do with that Orion guy."
"Oh well, I hope they'll figure it out, she's supposed to be executed this evening."
Amos turned around, remembering the conversation. Another woman hanged? At that pace, no feminine figures will remain in this damn city! He shrugged at his thoughts; what could he do about it anyway?

Basso took the whole of his glass as a drink, gulping it down roughly, hissing at the taste. He needed some slack. He remembered the day when everything was going well; when everything was normal. God did he missed the sun; he missed every little things that were a part of him before what ever happened to this god damned city. The barman took a shot with him, men talking loudly around them. He didn't recall the last time he saw the Crippled Burrick filled that much. He grinned at the crowd, raising his now full glass.
"To the gloom!" He roared, sarcastically.
Everybody who had a drink took it with him. Yes he was laughing but deep down he knew that there was nothing to be kidding with. He just hoped for the best.
"Amos! My man!" He shouted at the view of the skinny beggar entering the bar; waving at him behind the crowd. He patted the stool next to him.
"The strongest thing you have." His voice was rough and dry.
The barman executed the order and gave it to him as the beggar gave him his scavenged money of the day.
"What's up?" Basso knew that he only came around when something needed to be discussed.
"Not much mate..." He drank a large sip.
"Some widow stored her most expensive belonging in a safe at the bank..." He drank again.
"Another woman stole the engagement ring from her friend for money..." He finished his glass.
"And that's pretty much it!"
Basso was nodding, his arms crossed. "Well that's good news; maybe we'll get some new fences!" Amos laughed with the fat man.
They went on and on about everything. The beggar and the entrepreneur didn't know each other well, but they always got along pretty easily when it came to business. One needed sources; the other one needed money; that's it that's all. Their subject touched everything, until they talked about Orion.
"So what do you think about that cure?" Basso asked.
"Don't really sure about it; might as well try it at this point."
Basso was nodding once again.
"I guess man."
"Speaking of that Orion guy..." Amos stuttered at the name, alcohol kicking it.
"I've heard that a woman got imprisoned because of him."
"Nah man, that man wouldn't be the cause of something like that. The Watch practically didn't hear about him, neither did I."
"Well I was listening to some scum-sucking -hiccup- guards talking about a woman who was brought in by –hiccup- the Thief-Taker General."
Basso looked at him, lifting an eyebrow. Why would a woman be arrested by that piece of trash?
"They said that she's a," He mimed women breast with his hands, "fine piece of meat."
The round man scoffed.
"But she'll get hanged this evening... That's a –hiccup- shame."
Amos got up and started vomiting in the corner of the bar, as always, leaving Basso in his thoughts. Could it be her? Who else? He knew that she'd saw Garrett, but he didn't hear feedback about it. He needed to be sure.

The pigeon flew out of the Crippled Burrick, little tinder box in her feet. She made her way to the clock tower, managing to land after throwing the little box on the side of the window. Making his attention switch to where she was.
"Jeneviere?" He inquired. Basso didn't send him many messages these days, and even if he did, it was only to ask him to come to the bar. As he expected, his employer requested his presence.
The thief made his way to the establishment; entering by the back window, as always. Garrett took a look around the room before taking his gaze to his friend. He looked tense. The thief's body told him that he wanted to know why he was wanted here.
"I don't really know how to say this..."
The shadowy figure crossed his arms, looking underneath his hood.

Lydia curled herself in a ball, trying to forget everything around her. The large metal door snapped her out of her meditation quickly. The General took a heavy step in the cell, making his iron leg resonate through the room. He ordered the guard who was with him to get her up. Lydia was weak, and could hardly even lift her own weight, making the young Watchman dragging her; ripping her dress into pieces on the ground, while they followed the older man. Lydia looked at the dirt passing by, her eyelids were heavy, she was exhausted, hungry and wounded. She didn't even have the strength to cry anymore. It needed to end. They walked a long way, climbing up stairs, her feet hitting every steps. They crossed a court yard; she looked like a dead body to the others. The two men walked in another cell. It was in wood; Lydia determined that she was above ground at the moment. She felt the cold breeze brush against her burnt skin, making her hiss. The foul smell of the river came to her nose, almost making her vomit. Not a word was said to her by the time they made their way up to this point. She knew she didn't have much time left. Maybe he wasn't going to come after all... Did it really matter anymore?

He checked at her house, no one was there. Did they really have her because of him? Will they really hang her because she didn't listen to the warnings that she'd got from Basso? Garrett was angry; his frustration only made him run faster on the rooftops. He couldn't cause any more deaths than he already did. His mind travelled to Erin, brushing her out of his mind, trying to stay focussed as much as he could, make his way to the large platform where they hanged people. Only his footsteps echoed in the dead of the night; becoming instantly silent when some guards were patrolling by. He didn't recall seeing the Thief-Taker General at the ball... or did he? Garrett's mind was drowning in questions and thoughts. He just needed to get to her and he knew he was running out of time.

It felt like an eternity before they got her out of this rotting cage. She coughed when a big guy passed her limp body over his shoulder, carrying her like she was nothing. She looked down, unable to lift her head anymore, it's like she was dying even before they took the life out of her. Her long black hair was down, covering her vision. The strong man deposed her on the platform, almost throwing her body on the ground. They didn't restrain her; the General knew that even if she wanted to, she couldn't escape. That's when the hanging man came to see her. His face was covered with a black leather mask. Her vision was blurry; she couldn't even see his eyes. He took her face in his crippled hand, tightening his grip to make her face him. Her head was so heavy; it was only supported by his strength. He passed a clothing piece around her jaw, making sure she wouldn't speak; even if he knew that she wouldn't. The executer looked around, people already gathered to see the homicide. The sociopath almost enjoyed the view; it's like he made an entertainment show that everyone enjoyed. He took the time to prepare the little stand, cleaning it and making sure the noose was tight enough. He lifted her body and leaned her on the wooden pillar, tying her hands behind her back. Tears were running down her face, stained with blood and mascara. She knew everything was her fault. The executer passed the strong loose cord around her neck, as she cocked her head to the side, as if she would avoid it. He smiled at her slight resistance. She was a lever away from death. Her eyes weakly brushed the environment around her; her hope becoming as wilting with her body.

Where are you Garrett?