Death's Blood Ch. Fifteen: Orphans
#27 of Death's Blood
A mini-arc to set up a dilemma and to build up to another encounter. There was one small change that I made in the process of writing this chapter.
Fifteen: Orphans
(What a bond I had grown with the leopards and the lions. However, I felt alone, not seeing canines in the dormitories. I knew a few teachers that were canines, but I knew no other employees of the sanctuary. Then again, there were moments to ward off the demon in the form of loneliness.
(I heard a voice say, "Big Sister?" I was about to turn in when I heard that. I had to be extra quiet, which was hard to do as I still would tread the floor of the dormitory barefoot. My toe claws tapping on the floorboards would disturb the cubs younger than me. I turn, to find a kitten that reminded me of the High Priestess, though he was not her kin at all.
(The kitten said lowly, "Big Sister, can I sleep in your bed tonight?"
("Why?" I asked back.
(The kitten looked away shyly, but I could hear his answer: "I had a bad dream." How I forgot about that. I would still have that one recurring bad dream, but ask for no help and turn down what help was offered. This kitten was about six years old. I nodded to him, and then drew the sheets. I lay on my cot, on my side, making sure that the kitten had space. He climbed up and then nestled against me, his back to my chest. I pulled the sheets over us and wrapped my arms around him. I just had to smile at this. Instinctively, I nuzzled his crown of fur and whispered, "Sleep well.")
I have the schematics of the factory. Only the interior has changed since the mass furnace was made into a beer distillery. It still has its two high chimneys and its red brick walls. I have left my incendiaries behind. All that I have are my two Khopeshes and my stiletto, which I assume is still laced with poison. I stand outside the east side, where I have reached the place. I rely on a stack of boxes and the beams on the outer walls to get to the platform outside the opening.
I climb up the boards of the platform, and there seems to be no danger at the moment. The factory that I enter is filled with grey and beige. I hear fires for the boilers roaring and steam hissing as I hear low moans. This is for the boiling of the beer. I follow pipes that seem to have rusted over the years, and I hear hissing in a higher pitch. The process of the cooling blatantly is given too little time. The liquid travels fast from that vat, to the vat where it is to ferment. Shit, that beer stinks. The smell could carry throughout the building. The children below are the ones to take the worst of it, probably enough to intoxicate them.
I look around further, this time for the security. There are guards, barking orders to the children forced into the tedium and torture that such labour is. On this level, there are two guards making sure that the children keep the machines level. They have to; I cannot risk letting a minor adjustment become a behemoth of an accident. The only way seems to be upwards, to the highest level, where I have no doubt that Aldous is.
Upon taking the ladder against the wall, taking me to the next level, I see where the most work is performed. There are three children each operating the four machines aligned and supported by metal bars that look new, if not well-cared for. Each machine looks like a giant vat made of sheets bound together by the visible rivets. The metal of every machine groans as the children have to turn wheels and dials to keep the pace constant. The only positive factor is that they have not been forced to mix opiates. I instinctively uncover my fangs as I look around for the guards and suppress a growl. The platforms meant to support maybe thirty individuals are so narrow that I cannot utilise any cover save for the growling machines. With my teeth clenched and my ears bent to the sides, I manage to deduce ten guards. Like the children, I can tell that these guards wish to be anywhere but here. I do not think twice about the guards for what contracts they might have.
I draw both of my Khopeshes. To the first two guards, canines, I stride up and thrust my blades into their chests. I wedge the blades a little further, to make sure that they are dead. Even with all the noise, I slowly lay them down. Upon pulling the blades out, one of the children, a cat, is about to yell. Before his voice is heard, I shush him. I add, "I came ter 'elp. Jus' keep doin' whot y-do. When the floor is clear, yeh'll know. Y-run. Understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am", the cat answers.
I still have my Khopeshes in my hands. I approach the next two guards casually, but they spot me. The male one shoves the female aside, so he can draw his gun, but he is too late. I swipe my Khopeshes upward, slashing up his chest. I then use my left Khopesh to stab through his chin. As he goes limp, I thrust my right Khopesh into the female's midsection, making her cough. This time, one child yells in fear. I growl, "Belt up! Y-don' want the others to threaten you." The cat pants as I lay the bodies down, continuing, "I came t-get you out of 'ere, but first I must get the guards out of the way. Be patient."
I nick what money I find on the two bodies, and then take a knife from one of them. The children in that row keep up with the machines. I nick what money the first two guards I killed kept, before I dash toward the other side, knowing that it is no better. There are also cranks and wheels to turn on this side, to keep the pace constant. I leap, disregarding what noise I make can be heard, still expecting the growlers to overpower my sounds. I utilise my left Khopesh to slash across a female ferret's midsection, making her tumble. I utilise my right to plunge into the jugular of another female ferret, which kills her instantly. I speak, "I came ter 'elp. Sit tight." They two young dogs have a hard time believing that, knowing that their bullies have just been killed. I sheathe my Khopeshes as I stride across the platform, to draw the knife that I have pinched. I hold it by the blade's tip before I toss it toward the next guard, a raccoon harassing the two pups. The other raccoon bullying them, expresses his dismay, and then rage. However, just as quickly, I pick him up with my right hand, holding him by the throat. I face the edge of the support as I draw my left Khopesh, which I use to slash across his midsection. He goes limp instantly. I drop the body. Without saying anything, I approach the other end, where three guards stand idly. Behind them is the office, a white sheet in front of what should be the window, its door closed.
"Shit", I hear one of the dogs mutter. They are quick to draw their pistols, and I back up, a second before they all fire their bullets. However, they do not risk firing at the machines. I sheathe my Khopesh, so I can lift the limp raccoon. I effortlessly pitch him across the platform, making the guards instinctively fire their bullets. They still have a few left if I am to make them waste their bullets. I can only gamble on this. I draw both of my Khopeshes. How fast can they fire?
I leap across the platform and make it to the other end. I kick the first dog in my way, making the others stumble. I thrust my Khopeshes between his ribs and slash with the blades, gashing his back. The second dog, I slash his arm, making him drop his pistol. I then slash his throat with my right Khopesh. The third dog there, I dig the hooks of my blades into her collarbone and then throw my arms upward with great effort, managing to flip her. To make sure that she is dead, I stab her above the hips.
The office is right there, and Aldous is right there, along with a female black bear, both of them naked. I see through a window slightly drawing a sheet covering it, to know that. No wonder they know nothing. How sickening that he would shag when he had a place to manage. I kick the door open, managing to do so on the first try.
Both of the bears are horrified at the sight of a masked wolf. "Ah, fuck", Aldous growls. He manages to pull up and fasten his pants while reaching for his own pistol, a revolver. He grabs it before I can get close, mainly because his wife has charged into me. She tackles me, making me lose grip of my Khopeshes. She punches me, clearly underestimating gold plating. She shakes her right hand as I hear a groggy voice speak, "Step aside. I got this." Fatal error: the second the female bear gets off of me, and her first instinct is to retrieve her clothes from the office, I pick up my Khopeshes, scrambling to get up. I back up, to get behind the office. I hear the black bear approaching me. Patience. Wait for him to give an opening.
Now! Aldous stands right in front of me, pointing his copper-looking revolver, and I plunge my Khopeshes into his midsection. How hard his body is. I have not forgotten that from the cultist. I get the blades out, but he still holds his gun. I force his arm away, but the gun goes off, the bullet firmly planted in the brick wall behind me.
I have to force his other arm away, to keep him from grabbing me. I run my blades along his arms, to plunge into his throat. Just as quickly, I pull them out. No chances for the enemy. I slash with my left Khopesh sideways. It cuts across his midsection. I slash as quickly with my right Khopesh on an angle, opening another long slit across his chest and diaphragm. I perform a scissor motion, making him groan as he has to back away, the cut in his midsection a little wider. I slash successfully yet again with a reverse-scissor motion, widening the same cut to a gash. This time, he tumbles over the railing, falling to the ground floor.
I have no time to stop, for I hear a roar that only a bear can make, and the female charges to me. Instinctively, I stab her in the throat with both Khopeshes. I tell her, "When one tries to kill me, this is what they get."
All that I see as important in their office is their small safe, in which wads of bills are kept. After pocketing that money, I run to where the children are, asking, "Can you turn these off?" They nod. "Do it. Then, get out of 'ere." I tell the ones on the other side the same thing. They comply, but I go first, dealing with the two guards on the ground level. I hastily pull the levers of the machine to their opposite ends, telling the kitten, "You want to leave. This's yer chance."
The kitten speaks, "Thank you." The rest are headed for the exit, and I sprint to keep ahead of them. Upon getting outside, there is nobody to help, but if these children have been slaves for all their whole lives, they know that the streets are better than this piss-poor excuse for a distillery. I have no guidance to offer them; I can only hope that they make the right choices.
(What a reputation I built at the orphanage that this was. Even when the days became shorter, I would attend sessions in combat training. The first weapon that I learned to wield properly was a spear, of course. My first spear was made of wood and very light. Even its head was made of wood, per the rules of training. I never saw which came first: being the first wolf to learn combat, or being called Big Sister. Those two seems to overlap.
(As the days became shorter and each night started to get colder than the previous, I would hear the cubs arguing about who would get to cuddle with Big Sister. On one of the coldest nights when the sand could have hardened and before the biggest holiday, I had to intervene in one fight, to make sure that no cub would hurt each other. It was only fair that each took a turn, as I had given them already.
(So, two kittens nestled to my sides on my cot. I held one in each arm. The rest of the cubs were disappointed, but I had been keeping track of who already had a turn. I had grown fond of these cubs, but I had been bothered by having no wolf cub to talk to.)
I first reap my rewards. I buy whatever meat is edible along with turnips and brussels sprouts. In the pub joined with Lagorio's workshop, I have all that cooked for me and order a pint of Kabal Kane Ale, much to the hyaena's joy. Another dinner like that of an aristo. I have to depart as there is no way I will let more individuals know who the vigilante Lady Death is.
Knocking first, I enter the front door of the workshop that the flat is. As expected, there the working black bear is. I present half of the money that I have taken, telling him plainly, "Aldous is dead."
He replies, "Keep it. Consider it your pay."
I lower my arm but do not put the money back in my pocket. I add, "Your mother is dead, too. She saw me kill Aldous, which provoked her. 'Twas a matter of her or me."
Durward snorts, "I won't miss 'er, either. She, too, was as deluded as she was gormless." He presents a stack of pages and continues, "I've been waiting so I can give you this: the outlines on Derrickson's storage house." I pocket the money, so I can take the pages. Just the first page has an overview of how the ground level is organised. The next page is on the subterranean level, where the slaves are kept.
I look up, telling Durward, "I appreciate this." I add curiously, "Now that the distillery has no owner, what will you do?"
"As I am co-owner, I can decide what to do. I will pack what remains of the ghastly piss. Then, I will sell the property."
As he is about to leave, I comment, "You 'ave a good wife. She loves you very much." He stares at me, heavy-hearted. "Please, be good to 'er in return."
"Well... best of Symphon." He then departs.
In the night, I see this as the time to see what monsters linger. Shortly into the night, the sun having set, I have already seen workers walk their cubs home. Everything seems peaceful. Even the female workers have no trouble, namely those with husbands.
Before long, I am right to have not spoken too soon. I head to where I hear growling from what could only be a ferret. I am right again, upon looking from the edge of a rooftop. I find a taupe ferret dressed only in suspenders, wresting a purse from a working woman. No chances for the mugger. Just a whiff from where I stand, the weasel reeks of caked blood. I climb from the ledge, and then down the window frames, before I leap to the weasel, who has just drawn a butcher knife. I draw my stiletto when a step behind him. I grab him and slash his throat.
I end up checking out the slums of the borough, where coughs galore. However, the coughs of many, does not muffle the barking of two dogs. In the middle, or near the middle of the area, there the two dogs are, harassing cats for their money or what items they own. They have their knives out. I leap from the house where I have observed. I end up catching the attention of the two dogs. They both come to me, each from one side, not that it does any good. I have my arms spread as I slash upward and then slash their throats the second they begin stumbling. Then, there are five other dogs to make their presence known. I let them run to me. Everything happens so fast. I slash my left Khopesh upwards, my right Khopesh to the side. I swiftly turn, slashing with my left Khopesh and then my right to the side again. I turn again upon my arm being grabbed, slashing a throat, and then I use both Khopeshes to slash downwards. Upon another turn, I perform a scissor motion. I turn right around, which is followed by a reverse-scissor motion. I look around, panting. All five down for the count.
It is barely eleven when I find myself at the market outside the borough's west train station. Surely, there is something to happen at this time of night. I look around the market, finding nothing that needed my attention. Then, I go in the alleyways separating townhouses from the station. Somewhere, a kitten is crying. I head that way, and finding that kitten is easy. I can see that this is a white shorthair in a casual dress. In a gap, I find a limp body. Upon a closer look, this is also a white cat in what should be a formal dress. This dress, in particular has small tears where flat rivets should have been. Muggers?
Without needing to turn around, for the kitten sees my shadows, clings to the grown cat. She yells, "Please, don't hurt me or me mother!" I listen closely to be aware of only one heartbeat from where she is.
I say calmly, "I am not 'ere to attack you." How can I explain to a kitten that her mother is dead? I slowly approach them and get down on one knee. I place a hand on the kitten, making her shake.
She whines, "I don' wanna go!" She really sees death in me?
"I would never kill a kitten", I assure her. "I just want to understand."
The kitten pipes up, "My mother is not dead!" Her voice is hoarse. How long has she been begging something of her mother and crying? I see indications otherwise. I can see that she is not breathing. I pick up the grown cat's hand. The paw pad is warm, but I can feel something cold. Somehow, this area of the ground and the outer walls of the house are cold. There are pieces of meat that have been untouched. I feel one piece of meat, which is cold like ice. And there are no bugs. Most peculiar.
I ask, "How long has she been laying here?"
The kitten looks up at me, seeing my masked face. Her eyes are wide and she trembles. "T-two days..." she whispers.
I shift closer. I ask, "Know you what happened to her?"
"Her legs seemed to stop working and she fell. She... writhed in pain and coughed... She's not woken up since..." Oh, what a cruel fate for a cat.
I tell her, "I met someone who can confirm your mother's condition before she 'passed out'. I just need you to let me lift her. Then, I will need you t-follow me."
The kitten looked at me, still trembling. She whispered, "Please don' 'urt my mother... I need 'er..." It still feels too soon to tell her that her mother will never wake up again.
I say, "I assure you, pain will be impossible for 'er." The kitten understands not the true meaning, but she slowly gets off of the grown cat. I pick her up, carrying her in my arms to one who can diagnose someone on such short notice.
Upon the door of the flat opening, I find the spectacled black cat in her white suit, groaning irritably, "Oll right, whot's so damn important that y-needed to interrupt a recovery?"
I answer calmly, "There is a kitten that needs your 'elp."
She opens the door all the way, showing dismay upon seeing the cat in my arms. I need only turn, to show the kitten. She says urgently, "Come in." We do so. She shuts the door hastily and then speaks, "Follow me." I am reluctant do so.
I am too distraught by what has happened in this place. There are bodies scattered on the floor. The few that take up the floor space wear ragged business suits and lay on their sides or facedown. At the opposite wall, there Holly is, in a business dress, with a pistol in her hand. I comment, "You put up a fight."
She replies, "I was prepared for one."
Lagorio persists, "I haven't oll night, Vigilante!" That reminds me of the cat in my arms. So, I dash to the stairs.
I know that the kitten chooses not to. I follow the black cat down the stairs and she lights up the room with an electric lamp, giving a fire-like glow.
I place the body on the table that Lagorio has made available. She brings a set of tools as quickly. She inquires, "How long has she been dead?"
"Two days, according to 'er daughter. She denies it."
Lagorio stares at me at that statement. She cannot believe what she hears. She then asks after a pause, "What d-you need-a me for?"
"I want to know if you can run a diagnosis. Can you analyse bacteria?"
"If they were preserved."
I explain where I found the cats and the peculiar case of the body's condition.
To that, her answer is, "I can guess why that particular area is cold. If that can preserve a body and keep you both from getting infections, consider yerselves lucky."
I comment dryly, "Cats are olways believed lucky."
"Hold on to that thought", Lagorio says. She begins undressing the body, speaking, "This will still take a while. So, just do what you do, Death." Lagorio is right, of course. All I can do is wait.
Upon going back to the laboratory, I ask, "So, what shit was brought upon you?"
Holly answers plainly, "Another attack. They tried to get in the test chamber." I turn over a body as she continues, "We took them as hostiles. So, I started shooting." There are three erratic bullet wounds.
"Thugs", I state. I stand up and turn around to face Holly, continuing, "If Joshua knew whot was so important that it needed be destroyed, he should be willing to invest in mercs."
"A message?" Holly implies.
"It could be", I respond. "You may know how t-use a gun, but yer aim needs work." I inspect another body, and then another. No guns; only explosives. Holly is a hell of a lucky cat.
She admits, "I know. I'm still learning." She then changes the subject. "You got some bottle bringing two cats unannounced, but I will let 'er 'ave my bed for tonight."
I approach her closely, to whisper, "She 'as nowhere to go now. When the doctor is done, I'm taking the kitten to the Sanctuary."
She whispers back intensely, "When you're in the middle of something? Besides, I better report back soon."
I back up, to say, "She needs someone to protect her."
Holly objects, pointing with her left hand as the pistol is in her right hand, "Don' think I am defenceless. I am a bad shot, but I can put up a fight." She lowers her arm. I watch her turn away and place the pistol in a handbag. I have been vigilant. I have to take my chances, now that I got Holly involved in my mission and Jack's operations. I cannot help everyone. But I can give anyone I see a chance.
I have taken only a few minutes examining the plans of the factory turned massive storage space. I needed no guidance from my friend to get here, but he wants to guide me in more than that. Something is already off when I am outside the rear entrance of the construct, made of metal and passing for a vast barn. I can hear no one even though there should be guards. I close my eyes. My friend can detect living individuals well enough to rival my sense of smell. From sniffing, there is something made familiar by the odours of soot and gunpowder...
I can detect that individual before my friend caws. There he is, the black wolf with white ears, a white nose, a brown face, and red eyes. I scowl at the sight of him, muttering, "You..."
"I've bin waiting, Vigilante."