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Widow

Marcus put his empty flower pot to the side and leaned against the shelf he was lying behind. His stomach was still not satiated but for now, it'd have to do.

Beatrice also sat down beside him and laid her head back against the shelf as she continued to recount her story.

"The town has four gates positioned all around its walls. A north, east, west, and south gate to be precise. The one we tried to escape to was the south gate but... we failed," she said angrily with tears threatening to spill from the grown woman's eyes.

It took her a moment before she could continue, and Marcus chose to pretend he didn't see her moment of weakness as he also stared at the ceiling.

"...The north gate, the one you and I tried to exit from, is now no longer an option as you already know, and we're currently only left with two options. The east and west gates are all that's left."

Marcus paid attention to Beatrice's account of her happenings throughout the town but it lacked details. Details of which, Marcus chose to ask about.

"You mentioned that you and your husband tried to escape from the south gate and... failed. How exactly did you fail and what happened to your husband?"

Marcus could already guess what had happened to the man but he needed to be sure so he could properly deal with the situation he was in, even if it meant stirring up more painful memories for the freshly deemed widow.

Beatrice's expression again became that of a sorrowful and vengeful family member who'd lost her loved one.

"We made it to the south gate after running through the town for several minutes, and we'd thought we had managed to escape, but at the south gate lied a swamp with the only way across being some flimsy-wooden bridge. This was the same bridge we all originally crossed before entering the town."

Beatrice was referring to the slavers and slaves that originally came when they stopped at the town to rest. Marcus's face scrunched up at this because he couldn't recall this piece of information.

And he couldn't recall this series of events because, throughout his travels with his captors, they'd had him blindfolded and put a bag over his head. He wasn't exactly sure why they'd done it only to him and not the others, but it prevented him knowing where he'd been traveling. Lucky for him, Beatrice was filling in the gaps for him.

"As we crossed the bridge, there were numerous incidents of some of us falling into the swamp but whenever one of us tried to help our fellow slave, we were beaten and urged to keep moving forward.

"We had no idea why the people who had fallen into the murky water never resurfaced, but my husband and I soon found out why."

Marcus wasn't entirely sure where Beatrice was taking this tale, but he continued to listen anyway. It seemed she had information related to the actions of the slavers prior to him being thrown into the building to be tortured, so he decided to wait and continue to listen.

Beatrice's face went from rage and sorrow, to that of fear and utter horror.

"There were dozens of them. All lying in wait below the swamp. They didn't come out during the day for some reason, but they hovered above the water like little groups of algae. That was what we saw when my husband and I came back last night."

Marcus could only assume she was referring to the creeper, or to be more precise the presumably dozens of creepers beneath the swamp.

Beatrice exhaled a long and tired breath.

"When we woke up from being left behind by the slavers, we thought we'd be able to slip away and escape the way we came."

While Beatrice mentally berated herself for her past actions. Marcus's master chimed in with his own assumptions.

"It seems they left those two behind as a way to slow down the creepers so they'd escape," his master said. "It's honestly a miracle they didn't spot us first while I was reviving you."

Marcus listened to what his master said, but chose to not speak as to not make Beatrice think he had lost his mind by talking to himself. Completely unaware of the voice that only Marcus could hear, Beatrice kept speaking.

"Once we arrived at the gate, we were left trapped with dozens of creepers lying in wait below the swamp and one prowling the cities within. We didn't know what to do. Both choices lead to death and neither of us wanted to die. Not after finally getting a chance to escape," Beatrice spoke slightly more hurriedly and nervously.

Marcus observed that the woman's tone change, and it seemed she had some lingering guilt behind what happened.

"We'd been so focused on figuring a way out of this mess that we were caught off guard. The creeper in the city appeared behind us and nearly grabbed me from behind. I-I wasn't paying attention. I should have been paying attention."

Beatrice could no longer hold the tears in any more as they started flooding like a river down her face. Even with her facing the ceiling, Marcus could clearly see how much pain the woman was in right now.

"My husband.... he-he pushed me aside. Because of that, he took my place... The dead body you saw in its jaws was my husband."

Beatrice stopped speaking and Marcus didn't know what to say.

The shop grew eerily quiet for awhile and neither said a word. Even Marcus couldn't help but pity the woman's unfortunate circumstances. Just when they'd thought they'd escaped their captors, they ran right into the jaws of death and only one of them made it out alive.

Marcus grit his teeth because he could imagine that sick freak, James, probably planned all this, and he was probably getting a good laugh out of all this right about now.

He'd make sure to repay him and Geralt tenfold the next time they met.

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