Three Acts of Penance [01] Attrition: The First Act of Penance

by S. G. Night

  Toren looked at Racath, eyebrow raised. “Have fun with it?” he asked. “I don’t understand.”

  It was Notak who answered. “If Rachel hates you, and she has free reign to do whatever she pleases….” He shook his head once. “Trust me — he will be begging to talk.”

  ——

  The three she-Majiski entered the room, their faces covered. They stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the table.

  Brahn rolled his eyes. “What, are you three supposed to be the follow-up routine? Is this the part where you start making veiled threats while you sharpen your knives? Nice try, but I know you’re not going to hurt me. If you wanted to, you would have already. I’m too valuable to you. Nice try.”

  All at once, Rachel, Nelle, and Alexis removed their hoods. Their feminine features were lit by the candlelight. Immediately upon seeing their faces, Brahn burst out laughing again.

  “Are you serious?” he guffawed. “Boss-man Azrael failed, so now he’s sending his own personal whores to deal with me? What are you gonna do, appeal to my softer side?”

  The three women approached the table. Rachel leaned in very close. “You should be so lucky.”

  He shrugged her off. “Get out of my face, bitch.” He leaned around her and shouted at the door. “Can I get someone with balls to talk to me?!”

  “We aren’t here to talk,” Nelle informed him.

  “So, what, is this supposed to be cruel irony?” Brahn chuckled. “Is this supposed to teach me a lesson and live the rest of my life as a good, virtuous boy? Like I told your pal Azrael, you don’t frighten me.”

  “We should,” said Alexis.

  Brahn turned his eyes onto her. A wicked, lecherous grin split his narrow face. “Did you know that I test my product personally?” he told her quietly. “That way I can be confident in guaranteeing my client satisfaction. Every morning before I go into the office, I come down here to inspect the stock. Just to make sure everything’s…working properly.”

  He showed her his set of straight, white teeth. “You know,” he said, reaching out as if to grip Alexis’s hair. “You remind me of the girl I tested last week. About your age, had your hair, your face. But not your eyes. You’ve got…insolence in your eyes. That’s a problem. You see, she had proper woman-eyes. Submissive. Willing. She didn’t struggle or cry. She was a good girl.”

  His grin broadened into a leer. “That is how your kind should be. That’s what you were meant to do in life. It’s all your good for.” Brahn leaned closer to touch Alexis’s face. “So why the hell do you think I would even consider talking to you three whores? You don’t—”

  Rachel seized him by the throat, squelching the words in his windpipe. She hoisted him out of the chair and plastered him against the stone wall, holding him off the floor with a single hand.

  Brahn’s eyes went wide with shock, his feet kicking wildly. But he could make no escape, could not break the strength of the she-Majiski’s hold. He was too weak. Too Human.

  “Girls,” Rachel seethed to the others. “I think it’s time to inspect the stock. Just to make sure everything’s…working properly.”

  ——

  Outside, Racath, Toren, and Notak listened through the door. The heavy wood did nothing to muffle Brahn’s agonized screams. Racath smiled.

  Notak took a quick glance through the peephole, nodded appreciatively to himself, then stepped back. “I do not wish to sound demeaning,” he said conversationally. “But how does a Genshwin Mechanist come to such a knowledge of inflicting pain?”

  “Two words,” Racath held up a pair of fingers. “Vice clamps.”

  Toren shivered. “This is so wrong…”

  “How so?”.

  “Torture, Racath?” he questioned. “What does this make us? If we stoop this low, are we any better than the Demons?”

  “It is what needs to be done,” Notak offered impassively.

  “That doesn’t make it any better!” Toren argued. “If we start justifying things like this, by the time we reach the end, we’ll have done more harm than good. For that matter, what are we planning on doing with him once we’re done?”

  “I was going to let Rachel tear out guts and string him up by his own intestines. Racath shrugged casually. “Why?”

  “Execute him, then?” Toren said.

  “You never seemed to have a problem with shoving your Stinger through the heart of anyone Mrak pointed you at,” Racath shot back. “You seemed quite content to hew down Brahn’s men upstairs.”

  Toren flushed. “That’s not — that’s different! Racath, there’s a different between assassination and execution! If we—”

  “What would you have me do?” Racath demanded. “Put him on trial? Put him in prison?” Racath shook his head. “No. There is no question as to this man’s guilt. Before this is all over, I will see that he, and everyone else like him, meets a slow, brutal end. These aren’t people we’re dealing with, Toren. They’re monsters.”

  The door opened then, and Brahn’s broken sobs could be heard from within. Nelle poked her golden head out of the door and smiled blithely. There was blood on her face. “Guess who’s feeling talkative!” she said. “Why don’t you boys come on in?”

  ——

  The table and chairs were shattered. Brahn lay in a fetal ball in the corner of the room, blood staining his face and clothes. Purple bruises blossomed and swelled on his flesh. He was shaking, gasping, weeping. As Racath, Notak, and Toren entered the room, Rachel kicked him. He yelped pitifully.

  “So,” Racath began. “Let’s try this again.”

  Brahn wiped tears and bloody snot from his nose, refusing to look at Racath. “Baron Monger lives on the island Territh Umbra,” he croaked, his voice breaking several times as he spoke. “His banquets are always on the 15th of every other month. He always orders his drugs from me and has them picked up by his servant on the 10th.”

  “Good,” Racath smirked. “And the special order?”

  “Monger likes his women,” Brahn sniffled. “Sometimes he gets them on his own but he occasionally buys them from me. But never for a banquet before. He apparently wants a girl on his arm for the party next week. He was very specific — tall, blond, fair-skinned. And prettied up enough to act like she wants to be there. Not an easy to come by.”

  The Scorpions all looked at Nelle. Nelle looked at each of them in turn. “Ahh, piss,” she muttered. “You can’t be serious.”

  “It’s perfect,” Racath said, a plan already forming in his mind. He spoke to Brahn again. “Listen very carefully, swine. You will meet with Monger’s servant tomorrow and tell him that you found a suitable candidate. You’re going to tell him she won’t be available until the 14th, and you would like to personally escort her into the party. Understood?”

  Brahn jerked his head up and down. “Yes.”

  “And between your meeting and the banquet, you’re going to be under our watchful care. And you’ll be helping us in any way that we require. Or else….” He glanced at Rachel suggestively. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Brahn nodded again, choking back another sob. “Crystal.”

  “Very good.”

  Racath turned and left the room. Notak, Nelle, and Alexis followed. Toren hesitated a moment, then sighed and departed as well.

  Rachel stooped down to Brahn’s level. Brahn flinched away from her, a blubber escaping his lips. Slowly, softly, she ran her fingers through Brahn’s sweat-soaked hair. She looked him up and down, taking in the sight of his beaten, bloody form, cowering in a dark corner of a dark room. Whimpering under her feet. Broken.

  It was like art to Rachel.

  “This…” she whispered in his ear. “This is how your kind should be.” Her eyes were toxic even as she smiled. “It’s all you’re good for.”

  FORTY-FIVE

  Red Satin

  Two days later, after the Scorpions had prepared the shipment of goods for the lesser Demon Hikshaa to pick up, Rachel watched Brahn from the ledge outside his off
ice window. The Human fidgeted in the chair behind his desk, tugging at his collar and smoothing his hair back anxiously. They had done a fair job covering the bruises and shallow cuts on his face before returning him to the offices for his meeting with the Monger’s servant. But his frazzled demeanor was impossible to hide.

  As much as they needed Brahn to be convincing, Rachel couldn’t help but enjoy watching the bastard sweat and squirm. She did, however, wish that she didn’t have to observe the meeting from the second-story ledge in the misty rain, wrapped the ‘Flage. Unfortunately, Demons had a knack for catching the scent of Majiski blood, which made her exile to the narrow ledge a necessity.

  An instinctive chill crept down Rachel’s spine. Mentally pulling the ‘Flage tighter around herself, she leaned out over the ledge and looked down to the abandoned street. A lanky figure, too misshapen to be anything but a Demon, approached the offices. A few Arkûl followed with it, keeping their distance from the devil.

  “Go,” she heard the Demon say as he entered through the front door of the building, gesturing at the warehouse next door. “Collect the shipment. I shall meet you when my dealings are done.”

  The Arkûl trundled away, off to the warehouse where the other Scorpions, disguised as Human workers, were ready to hand off the goods.

  “He’s here,” Rachel whispered to Brahn through the cracked window.

  “Thanks for the update,” the Human snapped at her, wringing his hands in his lap. “The commentary isn’t helping.”

  “I’m not here to help, I’m here to enforce,” Rachel hissed through her teeth. “So that you don’t try and pull anything. If you try and give us away, or signal this Demon — if you so much as think about twitching in a way that I find unsettling, I’ll personally kill you and Hikshaa before you even have time to piss yourself. Understood?”

  Brahn gulped. “Yeah. Understood.”

  A booming knock thumped on Brahn’s door.

  Brahn cleared his throat nervously and half stood from his chair, smoothing his hair again. “Uhh, yes, come in?”

  The lesser Demon skulked into the room, his disproportionate limbs swinging along with him. His wicked, scarlet eyes raked the room in a single proprietary sweep.

  “Ahh, Hikshaa,” Brahn greeted. “Right on time, as always. Please, won’t you take a seat?” His friendly gesture to the chair across the desk was a little over-exaggerated, and his smile was too shaky to be anything but panicky.

  Hikshaa’s wide mouth twisted into a gruesome frown. “No…” he said dubiously, looking the skinny merchant up and down. Rachel could guess why: Brahn wasn’t the kind of person to politely offer you a seat. “No, thank you. You will forgive me, Brahn, but I am rather in a hurry. My men are downstairs, ready to pick up the order.”

  Brahn nodded hastily. “Of course, of course. It’s all ready for you at the warehouse. I just need you to sign this…?” He offered the Demon a small parchment receipt. The paper shook slightly in Brahn’s fingers. Rachel could see sweat trickling down the back of her neck.

  “Yes…” Hikshaa wheezed, his eyes narrowing further. Suspiciously, he reached out and took the pen in his skeletal fingers, scratching a mark into the receipt.

  “Thank…you…much,” Brahn articulated word-by-word as the Demon signed the paper and returned it to him. “I suppose that’s all, then? Or is there anything else…?”

  Rachel stiffened. What was Brahn playing at?

  Hikshaa glared at Brahn. “Not in the least,” he rasped. “Do you not recall the special order the Baron placed when I visited last?”

  Brahn stammered. “Hmm? Oh, yes of course, how silly of me.” He coughed uncomfortably and straightened his back in his seat. “I found a girl, one that fits the specifications to the letter.”

  “And?”

  Brahn wobbled his shoulders apologetically. “Well, I’m afraid that she won’t be available until the night of the 14th. She can definitely make it in time for the Baron’s …but unfortunately not in time for him to approve her in person.”

  The Demon sneered, showing his rows of pointed teeth. “You have been walking a fine line, Human. You are approaching the Baron’s displeasure, and mine as well.”

  “Uhh….” Brahn’s eyes flickered toward the window where Rachel stood camouflaged. Hikshaa followed his eyes — Rachel took a hasty step away from the window.

  “Is something wrong, Brahn?”

  “Uhh…no, of course not,” Brahn stuttered. “But, if it will ease the Baron’s worries, I can be there on the eve of banquet myself to escort her. Give my personal guarantee.” He smiled awkwardly again.

  “The Baron does not take kindly to uninvited guests.”

  “Trust me,” Brahn placated. “This girl is worth the Baron’s time. If he doesn’t like her, he can send her on her way and take my thumbs if he wants to. But I’m sure he’ll change his tune about uninvited guests once he gets an eyeful of her.”

  The Demon frowned again, pensive for a moment, then relented. “Very well. I was instructed to give you this, “ He placed a fat purse onto Brahn’s desk. It tinkled with the ring of dozens of gold coins. “Fifty scion, as we discussed.”

  Brahn took the bag hurriedly, as though he was afraid Hikshaa might take it back. “Thank you, sire,” he murmured, tucking into a hasty bow. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  Suspicion flickered in the Demon’s dark-red eyes again. “Are you alright, Brahn?” he asked. “You seem…appropriately fearful today. Very unlike you.”

  “I’m fine!” Brahn said over-enthusiastically. “Really, all’s well! No need to worry about little old me. Run along now, don’t want to keep the Baron waiting, do we?”

  Hikshaa bit his ugly lip. “No…I suppose not. Very well. I shall tell the Baron of your offer. Perhaps I shall see you on the 15th.”

  “Perhaps,” Brahn nodded vigorously.

  Taking one more uncertain glance at the window, Hikshaa left the office, shutting the door behind himself.

  Brahn’s smile melted clean off his face and he slumped back in his chair. “Gods…” he breathed, wiping the sweat from his pallid expression. “That was a nightmare….”

  “I thought Demons didn’t scare you,” Rachel said, releasing the ‘Flage as she climbed through the window.

  Brahn nearly jumped out his seat as Rachel seemed to materialize out of thin air. “Holy piss — don’t do that!” he spluttered. “Gods, you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

  “One can only hope,” she murmured, reaching out to snatch the bag of money away from Brahn. “I’ll be taking that.”

  “Are you done with me, then?” Brahn grumbled. “Can I go?”

  Rachel chuckled. “Of course not. We’re not even close to done. Right now, you’re going to go make sure Hikshaa’s men pick up the wares without any trouble. Then we’re dumping you back in your cell. And tomorrow, you’re going with my friends to check out Territh Umbra.”

  Brahn deflated even further. “Lovely. Looking forward to it.”

  ——

  Nelle worried at her forearms. She couldn’t go dress shopping in her traveling clothes, so today she was dressed in a simple blue skirt with her hair brushed out. Unfortunately, that meant leaving her gloves behind. Notak had assured her that the illusion he’d cast over her scars would hold against anything, but that didn’t make her feel any better about the fake image of cream-colored skin hovering on her arms.

  She did her best to put her apprehension aside and stepped off the street, passing through the door of a tailor’s shop in the richer part of town. The bell above the door chimed pleasantly to announced her arrival. At the back of the store, a short man with graying hair and thick spectacles looked up from his sewing table.

  “Oh, good day!” the little man called to Nelle in a warm, grandfatherly voice. “Feel free to browse around — I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

  Nelle obliged. Lacing her hands behind her back, she took slow, graceful steps through the displays, pursing her lips t
houghtfully as she walked. She wasn’t really seeing the clothes — she didn’t have the slightest idea of where to start, but she figured that it would be better for everyone involved if she at least acted like she belonged in a high-end shop like this.

  After a brief minute, the little man bustled over to assist her, bowing his head politely as he adjusted his waistcoat. “Good day, Miss, and welcome! My name is Benson, and this is my store.”

  Nelle had thought long and hard about how she was going to play this on her walk from the warehouse. She’d thought up a dozen different scenarios and tactics to make her little excursion as smooth as possible. She knew Rachel would try to bully her way through it. Racath would act distant and enigmatic, letting Benson make his own assumptions. Notak would just be Notak. But Nelle…Nelle had a different approach. Politeness.

  She smiled beautifully at the Human and held out her hand for him to kiss. “A pleasure to meet you, Benson.”

  Benson blushed, grinning sheepishly as he accepted her hand. “How can I be of service to you today, Miss?”

  “I’m looking for a dress.”

  “You’ve got to give me more to work with than that, my dear,” Benson smiled. “What sort of dress are we looking for? Any particular preference for color? Material? Cut?” As he spoke, he began to lead her off into the forest of racks and displays.

  Nelle gave a self-conscious shrug. “To be honest, Benson, I don’t really know. I’m not used to shopping for myself.” She grimaced embarrassedly.

  “Ahh, a first-timer, eh?” Benson beamed. “Not to worry, dear, I can help. Is there anything you can tell me about what you’re looking for?”

  “Something formal,” Nelle answered. “Really formal. It’s for a banquet.”

  “Ah-ha,” Benson winked at her. “So it’s for a young gent, then, is it?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What’s your price range?” Benson asked. “Do you have a budget?”