In the slanting shadows of the receding darkness, Garrett stole through the small hours before dawn. A rosy tinge was just barely perceptible through the perpetual grey veil blotting out the reaching rays of the sun. The elusive light didn't dare illuminate the horrors of the City - much less its graveyards, which were shrouded in a hazy storm of the souls of the dead.
It was here that Garrett found himself, reeking of smoke, limbs protesting in sharp pain after having been exercised so relentlessly, walking down the familiar path engraved permanently in his mind and breathing in the putrid air to which his lungs had become inveterately accustomed. It was here that Garrett sought the closest thing to solace available.
The road to the Queen of Beggars was oddly empty. The vagrants that usually lined the street were gone. In the braziers dotting the street, dying embers flickered desperately in the last licks of fire.
Garrett continued down the street, his feet padding soundlessly against the chipped stones lining the path. His boot tread on something slippery, and he looked down to find droplets of blood staining stone. Bending down, he swiped his index finger across the sticky surface and rubbed his thumb against the pad of his finger. It was still wet. He looked up. The blood left a trail that appeared to have come from farther down the path leading to the abandoned chapel. He broke into a sprint, reaching the decrepit edifice within seconds.
He narrowly avoided tripping over the first corpse at the last minute, nimbly sidestepping the bloodied husk of a man lying prone in the grass. To his immediate right, another lifeless body lay spread-eagled on the ground. Two crimson gashes ran violently down the length of his back, exposed by the gaping tears in his shirt. Garrett swatted a fly away from his face before continuing.
Keeping to the shadows, he bent his knees slightly, preparing for a quick escape if necessary. With each tentative step, his heart thrummed louder and louder in his ears. The thrill of the suspense almost matched the horror of his surroundings. He passed by more corpses, each bearing the same fatal marks. At last, he turned the corner and descended the stairs.
Droplets of blood were splattered across the floor in the manner of a macabre mockery of artwork a foot in front of him, where the trail of gore stopped. A gasped groan turned his attention to the corner of the room. Garrett rushed to the man propped against the wall and clutching his mangled shoulder and chest. His eyes widened when he saw Garrett.
"P-please..." He groaned in pain. "Find... her," he pleaded.
Garrett knelt down a few inches away from the figure. His eyes narrowed. "Who did this? Where did they take her?"
"Oh, god... Oh, god, they k-killed everyone..." The man emitted a shuddering moan.
"Who? Who did?" Garrett pressed.
It was too late; the man had stilled. He was looking into dead eyes, the last flicker of life in them already extinguished. Garrett raised his hand lightly over the man's face and drew his eyelids closed, then rose with a sigh. He padded back to the entrance, stepping over the shattered bone china teacup lying innocently on the grimy ground.
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Night's Cold Embrace
Fanfiction(A Thief (2014) fanfiction) It's been years since he last saw Erin, and Garrett has yet to give up. The rise of the aggrieved Graven and the stirrings of another familiar group complicate his search, however, to say nothing of the young woman that i...
