(ACT 04) From one captive to another...

The air suddenly felt like it just about dropped.

“W̴̥̗̜̟ͦͯ̉̈́͗h͈̪̝̙̲̰͊͐̿̄ͪ͢â̞͍̹̼̖ͧ̐͑̈̀̚t̷͙͈̬̜͔̖̲͌ ̙͕̭̦͙́̅ͯ̀̕?”

He wasn't fazed. “You know who I mean. Roman.”

The street lights flickered at the mention of that name.

“W̯͓͈̲̞͚̪ͩ̊ͩ̿h̗͓̮͎̠̼̃ͪ̉͜ä́ͤͧt͇͕͔̄ͅ ̇͆ͥ̌iş̙̝͖̣̠̃ į̘̬̺̪̞̔ͯͫ͆ţ͍͙̹͒͑ͦ ̳̫̱͙̘̗̟t̥̎h̴̗͊ͭͪͧa̝̜̜̮̦̬ͫ̽ͭt͚̘̳̠͍̮͂̓ͩ ͖̺̱͙͇̘̤y͊̿õ͆ṷ̩̙̮̬͍͍ͬ͡ ̨̱̤̬w͋̏͏̯̯a̗̲̎ͪͮ̍n̜̺̭͐͂̆̐ͫ̍̆͟t̴̉͐̂͗?̽̈́”

“I want him gone,” Alistair told her without preamble, looking down… to find those eyes of black staring at him. And he suddenly knows, with absolute certainty, that there is something else looking back at him through those eyes now.

“You are not the only one,” she assures him, the words sounding almost like an ominous promise, the certainty of a solemn vow dripping like a honeyed poison when her voice suddenly shifts between that of a man and woman, old and childlike, “…was he the one who took you?”