“This man is the one standing behind those atrocities. He has to be eliminated.”
“Do it yourself then.” I hissed.
“Look around you. Do you see any capable warriors here? Anyone who could storm the Scars’ settlement and take him down?”
“That’s not my problem.”
“By doing this you will save many lives.”
“Why did you lie to me? Why tell me that you simply wanted to know where they were?”
“Because I understood that you would never agree.” Mahin stepped closer, lowering her voice.
“You’re right. I would never agree.”
“If you do this. I will reward you.”
“There’s nothing you have that I want!” I raised my voice.
“I will make you a high ranking official with unlimited powers, money, and resources. Anything you want. Do this and you will be forever provided for.”
“I’m not a killer for hire.”
“But you are! You are! I can see it in your eyes. Both of you are.”
She kept staring at me and slowly my confidence gave way. How many people have I killed? Five? Seven? A dozen? I clenched my teeth. I never killed without a reason, and yet remembering their faces was not something I could easily handle, even now. Their voices still rang in my ears and haunted me on long, windy nights.
I walked past her and removed the heavy metal lock.
“Will you do it?” Mahin asked.
I stood for a long moment staring at the peeling paint on the surface of the metal before pushing the door open.
I stayed in the exact same spot where I spent the majority of my time the day before. Everything seemed normal in the Scars’ commune. Nothing much was going on. I sighed, leaning against the brick wall. The heat from the stone surface nearly burned my skin and I could feel beads of sweat forming on the back of my neck.
What Mahin wanted me to do was nothing short of suicide. How could I enter the building, walk around unnoticed, find this Veramorr person, kill him and return the way I came?
I scratched my brow, watching two women drag a basket of wet clothes. They swiftly placed the contents on the drying line that was made out of two poles and a rope between them. A man guarded the entrance, and I could see the curve of his shoulder every time the door opened. But, there was no one else watching the door. For something so menacing, they really did not secure the entrances very well.
Hour after hour, I remained concealed in the shadows, watching the building until all the colors softened and the temperature started to drop. I watched women close the shades in the windows. Several women wrapped in brown fabric walked through a narrow path toward the building.
That’s my way in!
Not to do what Mahin wanted, but at least to get inside. I was confident I could escape any situation, shapeshifting and spraying them with fire was enough of a strategy.
Without hesitating, I ran to the end of the roof and jumped to the ground. I quickly followed the women who never looked back. When I reached the hanging clothes, I grabbed one of the capes and wrapped myself in it, covering my face. I expected to be stopped at the entrance, but to my surprise, no one was guarding the door at this hour.
I followed the women who walked past the kitchen area. I glanced at the walls, bile rose in my throat. Rows of freshly killed rodents, some as big as cats were meticulously displayed on wooden sticks, ready for cooking. Further along, a fire wasalready ablaze. The scent of urine, smoke, and charred flesh tickled my nose as I stepped further into the room.
The floor was unfinished, with stains of condensation from cooking. Some people had their beds up against the wall, and several used their possessions to cordon off their sleeping area. It looked like they just took anything they could scavenge from the buildings nearby, mismatched furniture, dishes, and clothes.
They were sickly and malnourished people. Mostly elderly but even the few males appeared uncommonly thin. Mothers cradled babies wrapped in filthy cloth. Some rocked back and forth. I suspected it was more to soothe themselves than their infant.
“Got any food?” one of the women asked, but I ignored her.
None of this was like the tribe Mahin described. My eyes landed on an old man who was using a bucket to relieve himself, right in front of everyone. I covered my nose with the thick, moldy smelling fabric.
“Don’t just stand there!” someone shouted.
