Stick of Joy

A few days passed peacefully for Belle...

In the carriage she threw a pea in the air and muttered something and the peas freefall slowed to a snail's pace. She threw the ritual dagger towards it and it skillfully impaled the pea. She repeated this action a few times before a knock rang out from the door.

The carriage had stopped but she just assumed they were taking a break. Belle looked out towards the door and muttered something and the handle slowly unlatched itself. A person slowly entered , it was Chris.

Chris looked a lot more mature than when she first met him. He now had a small scar on his face and his usual Impulse nature had be shadowed by a new calculative look. Mable stood behind him and she had a sharper sense to her. She also seemed more reserved and thoughtful of her actions. All of her previous injuries had healed extremely well and she looked relatively unchanged physically. There was however her arms and legs which were still covered in bandages to hide the scabs.

Belle was about to ask what they were here for before Chris looked deeply at her and spoke.

"What are you?" he continued to look deeply at Belle who remained calm at his question. She was beginning to master her poker face. This had a splendid effect as Chris couldn't tell what she was thinking and started becoming increasingly anxious.

Belle slowly raised her hands. "I am a witch" she didn't elaborate she just let them fill in the blanks for themselves. Mable's eyes lit up at the sound of this word. Chris's eyes dimmed in contemplation but he then looked up at her.

"What kind of witch are you?" Belle remained silent shortly before continuing.

"A good one. I don't wish to harm any of you all I want is to reach the coast at the moment" Belle went into deep thought about Planchett who was also a worry of hers.

There was still no news of her being found or being pronounced dead. She could not tell if this was good or not but she kept her hopes. She hoped she could at least see her before she left.

Chris looked towards Belle. She seemed to be absent minded. He waited for a while before saying something surprising.

"The town is 2 km away. It will take us a week to reach the coast." Belle looked at him in confusion.

Shouldn't this journey have taken at least another two weeks?

Chris went on to explain that the journey would be taking less time because they would be taking less breaks and riding a lot faster. Apparently their shipment was due to come earlier than reported and each day the boats were docked at the major port was a hefty fine. Belle understood their reasoning a bit more now.

The town was relatively uneventful. Belle bought some sea worthy clothing in a shop near the entrance to the town. She bought a number clothing which were shorts and pantaloons with loosely fitting tops with long sleeves and sun hats. She also bought a compass just in case she got lost. She now had less than 10 Riman silver left in her pockets.

She packed her stuff away into a corner of her carriage before closing her eyes to sleep. It was late in the evening when they arrived at the small town and it was almost night when they left.

A relatively uneventful day for Belle.

In a worn down house somewhere in the country side...

A door opened. It was nighttime. The wind howled wildly and it seemed as if it was about to rain at any second. A wrinkled hand twisted the knob making a very loud click. A girl's voice rang out.

"Jameson is that you?" there was a brief pause before the voice responded.

"Yeah it's me! Come out I brought us some dinner" The voice sounded similar to Jameson but silence permeated the small walls of the house before rushed footsteps were heard heading away from the guest.

Planchett who had taken the advice Jameson gave her a few days ago ran out her room and followed the cracks he had carved into the wall to the basement door. She felt around for the the lock unlocked the dood and climbed down into the stairwell. She fiddler in the dark for a while locking it behind her.

While Planchett was running her guest caught onto her escape after they realized the running was getting further away from them. They let out a soft swear before they walked out into the light of the home.

It was an older man in his thirties. He had rusted brown hair and multiple scars on his face. Every so often his face would twitch unnaturally and his cheeks would droop unnaturally if he wasn't smiling. His blue eyes glowed with the flashes of thunder. He wore a thick trench coat which reached all the way down to his black tailored boots.

He slowly walked around the house. Finding nothing. Most doors were unlocked and rooms empty. He kept searching until he reached the basement door. He squatted slowly before pulling doors. They let out a loud rattle but he could tell that it was locked tight. He found her hiding place. Now all he needed to was bust the door open.

Hearing the man outside her hiding place planchette whimper quietly not daring to move.

He was about to slam his fist into the door to break it when a foot came crashing into his face. Sending him flying into the back wall of the home. Jameson whose clothes were soaked in rain took a fighting stance in front of the rubble.

Planchett feeling the commotion lost her footing and fell down the stairs.

Jameson looked at the basement door with a worried look on his face. It sounded like she had fallen.

The man had already gotten up from the pile of wooden planks that covered him and assumed an attacking stance.

Noticing that Jameson got distracted the man screamed and ripped out a large sword from the inside of his cloak. His frame was taller than Jameson but it did not dwarf him at all.

His charge at Jameson was met with a swift doge to the left. Jameson tripped him and was about to jab him when a large fist collided with his face sending him fly into the cellar door. The whole house shook and dust rained from the ceiling.

Hearing the loud noise Planchett let out a small yelp. She began backing away slowly from the direction of the sound and hit her head before stumbling into what felt like an ice bath. The bath smelled like salt and vinegar. She tried to get out but she couldn't feel the floor anytime she placed her foot outwards. She decided to just stay put until Jameson finished his business

Jameson got up and readied himself again. His hair was now a mess and his forehead had a small trail of blood running down it. He ran toward the man who swung his sword and chopped at his arm. Jameson swiftly evaded the strike and let out a fury of punches to the man's left cheek. Leaving his profile bloodied and bruised.

Jameson felt he was winning until he felt the man release his aura. He could tell that he was at a higher realm but he was not much stronger and lacked experience . The mans aura created an illusion of skin like faces protruding from the walls.

Jameson's body started showing signs of corruption. His skin began to decay and he started resembling a corpse. This still did not stop him from walking towards the enemy with a grin. He let out a fury of punches and the assailant continued to slash at him with his sword. Some of Jameson's wounds began to heal an other than the rapidly progressing decay he had a lot of fight left in him.

Jameson swung his fist and collided with the man's sword. He then grabbed the blade by its edges and ripped it from the attacker's grasp. Causing a bloodied gash to form in his arm

The attacker snorted before pulling out another. Their intense battle continued for a long time. The attacker's face was bloodied and swollen his trench coat was torn and there were numerous items still left in them. Jameson was missing an ear the right side of his face had long decayed and was cut open. Down his face ran black lumpy blood and he looked extremely terrifying.

His wet clothes were now stained red and completely torn and tattered. He was covered in deep scrapes that all looked to be rotting on one form or another

He pulled a small stick from his breast pocket and another smaller lighter. He lights the stick and inhales deeply.

"Ahh *cough* This is half my monthly pay. A small "stick of joy" the attacker listened quietly to the speech. He caught his breath and began to walk towards him.

Jameson gently ashes the stick before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. He then flicks it away. A dim light shines in his eyes and the man cleaves his head off.

The man walked towards the severed head before he goes onto collect his other reward. He looks towards the basement and smiles. He twirls the skull and notices it was empty...

He swore and shouted.

"Shit the fucker was a corpse. I got to find the brain." A laugh was heard behind him. The head slowly spun around and smiled.

"I'm already dead. You shall join me too. Only the gods elude death." His eyes shined an ethereal black before dimming and losing their shine.

In the basement a dark light shone out.