AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER ONE - Inquisition
Gabriel’s POV
The smell of burnt flesh was the only thing in the air these days. It was making me sick. The only thing that helped was this cheap wine I was drinking. I was halfway through my second bottle when Louis walked in carrying a box full of liquor.
“They burned another one today. Man, you would think we would have left witch-hunting in the Middle Ages,” he said, putting the box down. He looked at me frowning. “How many of those are you going to drink today?” he asked pointing at my now almost empty bottle.
I looked at him and pulled my wallet out. “Until I give you all my money.”
“You know I shouldn’t even be serving you. There is a rumor about you.”
I was lucky he didn’t believe in witches and warlocks. Or any supernatural being for that matter. Because the rumors were true. I am a warlock.
“What rumor?” I asked, knowing damn well what he was going to say.
He coughed and pulled a towel to wipe some glasses that were drying on the bar.
“You know… They say you are a…” he was nervous and didn’t even look at me.
“I’m a what, Louis?”
“Warlock,” he said, lowering his voice.
If I wasn’t one, I wouldn’t even have heard him.
“Well, if that was true, I would be on one of those poles in the middle of the main square by now,” I said, drinking the last of my wine. “Give me another bottle, would you?”
He frowned and went to the back room.
I looked around. There weren’t many people in the bar. They were all afraid to be out at this time of the night. When the new inquisition started a lot of people ran from the cities and were in hiding. Inquisitors condemned people without proper investigation. Just like the first time. A lot of humans died. A lot of werewolves and vampires died as well. Some were my friends, some were my enemies. But I would never wish such death on anyone. Despite my reputation, I wasn’t that cruel. They didn’t only burn them. They were torturing them, killing their loved ones in front of them, and starving them. When you were captured by them it didn’t mean instant death. It meant suffering for months. I think that was even more terrifying than just simply dying. By the end, most of them were probably happy to be on that pole. It meant the end of suffering.
“You drank my stash,” Louis said, coming back from the back room. “I had to dig pretty deep to find this one,” he said and put the bottle in front of me.
“Well, I'll pay you to have them, Lou.”
I got my wallet and handed him the money.
“Maybe you should drink this at home, Gabriel,” Louis said, looking at the clock. “It’s getting pretty late, and if I don’t close soon those witch hunters will be all up in my ass.”
“Sounds even better. It smells like crap here, you know,” I laughed.
I liked Louis. He was an old man. A human. He had gray hair that went down past his shoulders, dark eyes, and a wrinkled face. He didn’t have a wife or a child. He had this bar. And even though it was a dump where only drunks and shady people came in, he loved it. He once said to me that his bar couldn’t leave him as Carol had. He refused to talk about her, and I didn’t insist. Even though a lot of his clients were supernatural beings, he wasn’t aware. Or maybe he was. I was not interested in finding out. He and my neighbor Nick were the only ones I would remotely describe as my friends. Louis’s crappy, dark bar was more of a home to me than my own house. Ever since they killed the woman who raised me. Now it’s just an empty space that reminds me of her, my guilt, and the possibility of me being tied up to that pole.
I started getting up, but I felt dizzy. This red mush he called wine was getting to me. I liked it. It was far better than being pissed off all the time.
“Damn Lou, I like your wine.”
I was at the door when Louis called out to me.
“Gabe.”
“Yeah, Lou?”
“Get a haircut. You look more like a werewolf than the thing they say you are.”
I laughed. Fortunately, the bar was now empty. If not, I would have to kill him and everybody who heard that. I wasn’t planning on killing my friend today.
I got out and started walking to my so-called home.
