The Red Hunter

C h a p t e r 2 6

Two days in Rome were enough for me to realize that I wasn't a city person. At all.

The streets were bustling with people from all corners of the world. Gawky tourists would stop every few steps to look around and take pictures, musicians would amaze wanderers with their many loud talents, and artists would swindle the susceptible with unoriginal art. Locals would dance down the streets, enjoying their prosperous lives filled with laughter and love as they skipped past beggars too starved and tired to ask for anything but to be left in peace. Relics which once stood among powerful Emperors and gladiators as symbols of sanctuary and success were now reduced to decorations embellishing the streets used by the modern generation.

There was nothing beautiful about Rome, except for perhaps the sweet aromas that would waft from the numerous artisan restaurants lining the busy streets.

All of Rome's food establishments were amazing, save for the one I was currently sitting in.

"Ciao? Bambino ragazzo? Ragazza? RAGAZZZZZA?"

"Tu stai per svegliare i morti!" I yelled back before she could continue. You're going to wake the dead! At my response, she stopped her yelling. Then the banging started.

I winced every time her cane knocked something over, thankfully most of it was already sambuco-proof. It was a blessing the café was closed at the moment, or else she would have scared all her granddaughter's customers away.

Edvige was not a docile woman. She was a woman born with a large mouth and a stubborn fix. It didn't help that she was blind as well and had a terrible sense of direction. But despite her disability, she stood tall and somehow found a way to stare down even the strongest of men with her milky eyes.

Edvige entered the café's lounge through the kitchen with a literal bang that had me biting my lip. Her silver braid was messy as usual as it rested against her dark collarbone. She was dressed in a white nightgown that made her appear as an angel, but as soon as she whacked that grey cane of hers at the counter, any innocent image of her was gone.

"Ragazza, Why is it that you choose to sit in the shop only late at night? Scared of the sun?" She baited me in her Italian accent. I knew what she was trying to do from the curl of her lip. I knew she wanted me to talk so that she could find me, but wasn't going to cave in to her company that easily like I had last night.

"Do I have to hit ever stupid chair in this Café with my cane to find you?" She spoke out loud, although she wasn't talking to herself. She knew I was here just as she knew her granddaughter's disappearance wasn't "normal adolescent behavior" as the police tried to convince her.

I made no sound. I was sitting in the back of the room at a glass table cast in shadows despite the moon's glow coming through the large windows. Then again, that probably wouldn't have made a difference for Edvige since her whole life had been in darkness.

Everything was still as I watched her. Her head was thrown back as she stared at nothing. There was a pause, and then she tilted her head in my direction with a victorious smirk. She made her way towards me as a watched in quiet awe.

Of course, Edvige was the opposite of silence as she struck every standing fixture with her stick of death and torment.

After a millenia, her old bones sagged into the cushioned seat across from me, her grin still plastered on her lips even after her exposition to my table.

"Ciao, Ragazza. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were purposefully ignoring me." I didn't even bother telling her my name again. She was set on calling me girl and nothing else.