16 Hit It From The Back
Its lip curled into a smile.
'Why he's here doesn't matter. All that matters is that he's here now. That night was a night to remember. He's the only one that has never resisted and instead went along with it'.
Thanks to him, the last time I was able to go without 'feasting'. He looked Roland in the eye
'He's probably thinking about that night'.
Roland stared at the beast before him directly in the eye.
'Why the hell is it looking at me like that?'
Chills ran down his spine.
"Do you remember?"
'Why am I feeling as sense of déjà vu?'
"D-did you remember?"
Barov's question from before, after he had first witnessed tentacles in action popped up in his head.
'Why is it even asking me that?'
"Do you not remember?" It tilted its head to the side and stared intently at Roland awaiting his response.
'What the hell am I supposed to remember?'
"Shall I jog your memory with a song? The song that you sang to me to be exact."
'Song I sang?' this revelation left Roland flabbergasted.
"I don't quite understand the words, as the terms you used seemed quite foreign. Plus I don't
really remember it".
'What?'
"Slip into your pants, I'ma make it quick
See me in the whip and she going down, all around
Run it, run it, touch it down to the ground
Hit it from the back, hundred racks, on the track, let it stack
She wants me to whip it, whip it fast, holler back
Drink up, get wet.....
Think you got the juice? But I'm wetter, wetter, wetter
Roll up your wet sleeves,
Take off your sweaty clothes,
Wet net hoopin,
Hit the buzzer, shutters exploding
Butt quake, shake it till your legs give like an earthquake,
I'm good when I'm good, when I'm bad I am better,
Think you got the juice? But I'm wetter, wetter, wetter"
When it had stopped singing, Roland's eyes twitched.
'Th – this song. It's not possible for anyone from this era to know something like that. It's way ahead of this time'.
He contemplated a bit.
'I have memories of this song from 2018 and this is the 15th century so....'
His eyes widened.
'D-d-don't tell me I - '
"You remember now".
It laughed.
"You were quite passionate. Show me that passion once again".
------------
'Alcohol and sex everywhere; seems about right' his flashed and remnants of lust could be seen.
"It's not every day that people like you walk in here".
As he stood by the door analyzing his surroundings, a cloaked figure approached him. Had Roland been present, he'd have been able to identify this cloaked figure.
"It's great to experience something new once in a while"
He looked at her; a bright smile etched on his face.
"That's true" she replied, an equally bright smile on her face.
"So, what can I help you with?"
"How about we go somewhere private?"
"Sure".
She escorted him towards a dimly lit passageway, stumbling over individuals engrossed with swapping saliva.
"Here we are" she motioned towards a door, turning the handle "After you"
He walked in and she followed.
"So, what is it that I can help you with? Hm?" she braced herself on the door, her grip fastened to the knob.
"Why not remove the hood first? I've only seen your smile and it's as enchanting as they say".
"Sure. Right after you state your purpose for coming. I'm sure a priest like you is quite busy".
"It's like you've seen right through me".
He picked up a parchment from the wooden desk and a quill, dipping it in ink. He then began to make markings on the parchment.
"You must be familiar with the work I do"
"Hunting witches?"
"It not only revolves around witches. It includes all manner of evil".
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Well, there's this witch I'm looking for. I was informed that she was last spotted here."
"I would not know of any such thing. Witches are pretty much human. So how would I be able to know who's what?"
"They are not human! They are an abomination that must be destroyed. But that aside, I agree with you. They are sheep in wolves clothing. But, I'm sure you'll be able to assist me"
His hand stopped moving.
He raised his head up and gave her a smile.
"How are you so sure?"
Her voice wavered a bit.
He took a step towards her.
Another and another, until they were standing a hair's breadth apart.
"Our informant gave us a rather vivid description of her. 'A slender young woman with mature, charming features, blond hair cascading down like a waterfall, wearing dark clothes with a hood, hiding her face'. Sounds familiar?"
"D-doesn't quite ring a bell".
"Oh? Is that so Veronica".
He caught her off guard a violently ripped off her hood.
"Or is it nightingale"
