Confession of a Soul Mage

by SoothingCoffee

Chappie 7

Red.

It was the same question that I’d asked years ago that kept sodomizing itself to the front of my mind resiliently like a dirty elf as the circles around me began to glow an eerie red light: Why is it always red?

I remembered the first time I asked the same question, when I was doing my first dark ritual. It had me ponder, because the color red seemed to be purposely created by the Elder gods as the personification of everything dark and blood.

The color was utterly discriminated, that everything that involves red—sans fire, of course— would either be avoided by the general mass, or under inspection of doing dark magic, or illegal stuffs.

I would imagine if Red is a child, she would be that kid in school that everyone avoids because her skin is red, her teeth are as sharp as sharks and that he came from a family of— wrongly accused— murderers, and rapists, and her only friend would be black, the kid that always got beaten by many kinds of sticks, and lived under the bridge.

Case in point, the Redfield; granted, mine has a real dark history, and even though our reputations would occasionally change from fear, to disgust, to a laughingstock, and back to fear; we’re still generally avoided by other families, especially by the Greenfield and Copperfield.

For obvious reasons, though it was recently ignited when my father attempted rape to the former Lord of Greenfield’s sister when he was young.

Again, the Redfield, my family, is famous because of our… small regard for moral, or the lack of it. Unfortunately, this makes my family into the black goat of the families, and considering that we weren’t as fearful as we used to (Read: Stupid brother and sexual addicted father).

I concentrated back to the red circles; it would be troublesome if Specter became a fine mashed changeling on the cave ground.

Checking the glowing red circles around me for the last time, I turned to give a nod to the nervous and apprehensive changeling behind me. Understandable, since she was going to chain her soul to a complete stranger, just because he offered help to off your, admittedly, dumb and incompetent ruler.

Only idiots wouldn’t if they’re in her place, and only the mentally challenged would even agree to do this in the first place. Granted, she’s desperate, and me not doing her any bodily harm was probably enough to earn that trust.

Not to say it’s justified, and sadly, only Mr. Richard could pull it off with it being completely justified. I doubt he had a soul to begin with. I won’t doubt that he would somehow trick the caster to trap his own soul.

She gave a shaky nod in return, and taking a deep breath, she stepped into the circle with a shudder and with no little hesitation she raised her right foreleg to me.

I grabbed it, rolling my eyes inwardly as she flinched, before I took out my trusty and absurdly sharp carving knife from my bag of holding—expensively and delicately crafted from a dragon fang—before I unsheathed it.

“Hear me and be witness, Spirits of Souls, as by the blood of this fool shall this one be punished,” Specter winced as the knife slit through her chitin; thick green blood poured out, splashing onto the circles. “Specter of the Changeling, by your decision, will and mind; your soul is forfeited.”

The circles briefly shone brightly as they seeped hungrily the green liquid, before they returned to its original glow.

“And by my blood, I shall be this one’s keeper,” my left palm met the edge of the knife, before I made a slice motion; red liquid splashed onto the circle. “I, Cain of the house Redfield—“I made note to explain Ruby later—“hereby, will take my role of this one’s soul, and keep it until I see it fit.”

The circles brightened, almost blindingly before it returned to their original glow. I watched as specter screamed in pain as she fell onto the ground, her hooves clutching her throat, trying to breathe and scream at the same time, if the choking sound she made was any idea.

I idly stood there, fighting down the urge to tap my boot as I waited the soul to be extracted.

Soon enough, Specter stopped screaming and choking as a small white orb, about the size of a golf ball, came out of her chest, leaving white misty trail as it float about in front of me. I sheathed my knife, before I raised my right arm towards the ball with open palm.

It flew in like a good whore. Specter gasped as red ethereal chains sprouted from my palm, constricting the tiny ball of soul as it sunk down into my palm.

I let out a tiny slight of grimace. Always hates that part of the ritual.

“Done,” I said, wiping my palm to my robe. Looking down, I saw Specter giving me a glare at me. “What?” I asked.

“You never said it was going to be fucking hurt!” She growled out, wincing as she uselessly tried to climb onto her hooves.

And you’re an idiot to even agree doing this in the first place. I silently added.

She grunted as her hooves strained under her weight, before she fell again with a squeak. “Ow. I just never thought it was going to take my soul!” She wailed, placing her holey hoof over her face. “I thought it was going to chain my soul, not this!” She foolishly banged the ground with her wounded hoof, flinching and sobbed even further.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, don’t be a child, it’s not like I’m going to abuse your soul. And chaining your soul is much more painful.” I huffed, before I walked to the side of the cave, ignoring Specter’s breakdown and sudden realization that she had just sold her soul to a total stranger. Granted, it’s to help her race to survive from their incompetent queen.

It’s not like I’m going to abuse the shit out of her soul. I needed favors, not grudges. That said, I pulled out a pillow and a blanket from my bag.

Ruby gaped at me, looking at me while all the while glancing at the pillow and blanket in my hand, before I set them up on the cave’s ground.

Aww, Ruby’s learning. I pulled out a clean roll of bandage from this morning, rolling it around my bleeding palm. “Large enough,” I replied, cutting the tail of the bandage, before tying it into a knot. “It’s called the Bag of Holding, usually used y couriers across the lands. I bought it from an accidentally crippled courier.”

“And who’s Cain?”

I sighed, lying down to the makeshift bed. “It’s my real name. What? You didn’t think Psyche is my real name, did you?” I shook my head in disbelief at her hesitant nod. “Regardless, I was planning to tell you my real name, anyway. Take it as a token of trust.”

She blinked, and again. There’s another question in her eyes, but she didn’t voice it. “Thank you.” She said meekly, before floating a bit closer to me.

I just shrugged, chuckling as my familiar snuggled onto my belly, ignoring the sudden increase of volume from the wailing changeling, lamenting something about “I just sold my soul to a madman!”

I huffed, I prefer insane than mad. Wake me up if the changeling is going to do anything stupid, okay Nero? I requested through our mental link. I’m too savvy to not consider the possibility.

The faux-sleeping cat made a mental snort. If you don’t want her to do something stupid, then give her a roll of bandage for her wound. She paused, before mentally chuckled. Of course, you’d want her to do something stupid. Of course, master.

“Shut the hell up!” I shouted over the cave, causing the wailing and sobbing changeling to squeak and settled to muttering and sobbing instead. Better.

I scratched the back of Nero’s ears, eliciting purrs of delight from her. I chuckled, closing my eyes, and let the dream realm pulled me down to the land of unconsciousness.

()_()_()

Bang.

My spine straight as I screamed. My cat yowled in surprise and immediately clutching my robe from her slumber, the warlock beside me screamed in delight and the horde of undead around me screamed until their heads exploded.

Wait, what?

My scream trailed off as I gazed the horde of headless undead around me with disgust, and horror. “What the fuck?” I breathed out, before I stared at the still scream— singing warlock beside me. “What the fuck!?” I repeated much louder.

He ignored my eloquent response as he sung a high pitched note that would make every opera singers to faint out of jealousy, or the wet feeling on their crotch.

I looked around, noting that I was in some sort of a large, dark room with a dangling lamp on top of me. To my horror, as my eyes caught the metal ‘bed’ I was sitting, it was fully decorated with caked blood, and a set of manacles on each corners.

A dungeon.

I gulped, my mind whirling in a very fast-paced erotic motion as I tried to remember what in gods’ name just happened, and once the few past hours registered into my mind, my head snapped to the warlock beside me, who was still singing like a very disturbed opera singer.

Well, at least I wasn’t raped. That’s a good thing. I’d like to keep my anal virginity to my death, thank you very much.

My eyes caught upon the small surgery table next to him, or to be more exact, the book sitting on it. Curiously, I reached for the book, before my reaching arm was suddenly bended into an impossible angle.

My eyes widened, staring at the broken arm. I screamed in pain, and Nero did that same, clutching onto my robe tighter than I thought she could.

“YOU BROKE MY—“

An index finger touched my lips, cutting me off immediately, as his high pitched singing reached into a crescendo that would make the previously unconscious opera singers’ crotch to shake out of their will.

Then he coughed, his other hand thumped his chest repeatedly, producing a hacking quality. He cleared his throat after his coughing fit ended. “Long time since I did that,” he mumbled, before turning to me. “You’re awake.” There’s a clear surprise in his head.

I swiped his invading hand away, before pointing at my wrongly angled hand. “Please tell me you can heal this?” I did not, and I repeat, did not plead.

“Oh?” Mr. Richard glanced at my broken arm; he considered it for a moment, before shrugging. “Oh sure,” his hand grabbed my arm, and I flinched slightly as he bent it back to normal. “Necromancy is best magic.” He offhandedly said, and grabbed the book on the table. “Catch.”

He chucked the heavy, countless paged, leather bound and probably priceless, book at me. Oh, did I mention heavy?

My hands reached to the book, but much to my dismay, I wholly underestimate its weight and Mr. Richard’s strength as it hit my reaching hands with a sick crunch. I stared in disbelief as the book fell to the ground with a heavy thump, before I turned to my broken arms.

I let the power of Ice took control of my veins as my disbelief and pained stare turned icy cold. I looked up to the warlock who was looking quite exasperated.

“Oh, fine.” He rolled his eyes, before he grabbed my bent arms, and pulled them back to its normal angle. “There. You’ve got to be more careful, you know. I know you’re a Redfield and all, but I can’t heal you every time you broke your arms.”

Despite the power of Ice taking over, I couldn’t quite suppress the twitch on my eye. “Thank you.” I said in monotone. I pointed at the fallen book. “What is that?”

He bent down, picking it up with ease and held it up to my face, it read: “Beginner’s guide to: Soul magic.”

I gaped, letting the power of Ice diminish as I stared in disbelief. “S-Soul magic?” I stuttered, looking at it like a child to an early birthday prizes. I knew it was illegal, banned, but fuck that! Even if I wasn’t in this ‘The-country-that-I-had-served-for-two-years-in-a-suicide-mission-wanted-to-screw-me-because-always-trust-the-sleazy-brother!’ situation, I would probably learn it if I had the chance.

Imagine the thing I could do with it! I could imbue weapons with phenomenal beasts’ soul, further strengthening the weapons that I have enchanted with runes! Imagine the effectiveness! The fame! The customers! The possibilities! The dead Imperials and elves!

Shame, if I could, I would use it to further advancing my kingdom’s weaponry, armory, and everything military related. For free! Everything is better than those Imperials (and elves) scum!

The warlock nodded. “Yup, I always thought Soul magic would fit a Redfield. I remembered using it to eat a monk’s soul.”

Stunned, I grabbed the book from his grip, with more strength this time; a vicious grin bloomed on my face as I stared at it. “I’m going to learn Soul Magic?”

“Yes, and hopefully it’ll take a week or so. After that, we’ll invade your brother’s mansion. I’ll kill the guards, and you do whatever you see fit. I do hope you will do something interesting to him.” He paused for a moment, before adding, “Preferably brutal.”

I let out a large grin. “Oh, it will. Believe it.” If I had the rights, I would probably rub my hands together and cackled like a madman. Sadly, I don’t, so I didn’t.

He waved his hand in an amused manner. “No problem. It’s always fun watching a Redfield killing his family. It’s like watching history repeating itself in 3D.”

I looked up from observing the book. “And what happened to the Redfield who killed his family?” I asked confusedly, cocking my eyebrow. “And what’s 3D?” I added after an afterthought.

“Oh, he was tortured and raped by the Imperials in an expedition, a year or so after he became the head of the House and impregnated his lover.” He explained off-handedly, ignoring my last question. “Don’t think much about it. It’s not like you’re going to visit the Imperials anytime soon.”

Oh, if only he knew…

()_()_()

Wake up, master! Nero shouted through our mental link, and I had to force down a flinch because of her shout. Being mentally shouted while asleep is like being penetrated while still sleeping. Thankfully, that’s a metaphor, and the penetration happened to the head.

“Psych? The Changeling is walking here…” Ruby whispered with a hint of nervousness in her voice.

I didn’t move, keeping my breathing even as I heard the ground crunched under Specter’s hooves as she moved closer to my side.

Her movement paused for a moment, a whining sound escaped from her throat, before she clamped it down forcefully, and moved once more to my side, or to be more specific, to my bag.

“Psych, wake up!”

I ignored Ruby’s panicked shout, as I turned myself to the side, facing my where I placed my bag. I could imagine Specter’s horrified and ‘oh-my-gods-I’m-going-die’ face as she suddenly stopped her movement.

I heard her audible gulp. “Cain? Are you awake?”

I rolled my eyes inwardly, but I didn’t give her a respond.

“Psych!” Ruby shouted once again, her voice grew more panicked as

Specter breathed a sigh of relief, and I had to question her capabilities in spying. Not much, I guessed, considering that her Queen sent her to a suicide mission, and that she’s a defect that could betray said queen if she wanted to.

Thankfully, she didn’t need to be smart.

Once more specter moved in closer, and finally stopped as she was about an inch away from my bag. Her holey hoof reached into the bag, but before she could pull out anything— I doubt she could, considering the lack of opposable thumbs— my hand shot out and grabbed her by the hoof.

Ruby gasped, and Specter shrieked, trying to pull her hoof from my grip, much to no avail. I hid the smirk that forced into my face as I cracked my eyes, and instead faked fury as I glared at her.

I ignored Ruby’s rather impressive performance at glaring. It probably beats Max Glare’s one, and probably also Diana’s, my brother’s protective girlfriend, that I had traded for my life and probably died of rape.

Typical Imperials are typical.

“What are you doing?” I growled, hiding my glee as she struggled desperately. “Or to be more specific, what were you going to do?”

She stared at me, not quite meeting my eyes, with wide blue eyes full of terror. “N-Nothing.” Specter weakly defended herself.

I glared, sneering at her, before nodding my head to her still stuck and struggling hoof. “Nothing? Don’t play with me, you thieving bastard.”

“Said the robber to the thief.” Ruby and Nero both deadpanned. Nero looked surprised for a moment, before shrugging.

Her lips trembled, and her eyes quivered in tears. “P-Please, I-I wasn’t g-going to do anything bad!” She stuttered, looking about in the edge of having a break down and cry her miseries out.

I cocked an eyebrow. “And, what, pray tell, were you going to do, exactly?”

Squirming under my glare, she dropped to her haunches, and gave up pulling her invading hoof away. “This!” She cried, tears fell streaked down to her cheeks as she showed me her other hoof. “It’s painful. I just want a bandage to stop it from going bad.” She sobbed, hiccupping all the while.

I stared her in the eyes. In the last several hours, I’d figured out plenty of things about the changeling in front of me. She’s uneducated in the arts of spying and stealth,—probably raised as a civilian—but she’s smart, and would be smarter if she could try. She cares for her whole race’s survival. She’s a coward, the good one. And she’s honest. I could look at it in her eyes.

Well, at least, she’s honest to me so far. I wouldn’t put it aside that she would lie or trick me the moment she got her soul back.

Regardless, she’s the perfect pawn, but no, I wouldn’t treat her as a pawn, or any chess piece for any matter. For one, most people—some does, easier to take commands than give them— doesn’t like to be played as a chess piece, and for two, I suck at chess. No, I’ll treat her as a comrade instead, a brother-in-arms, or in Frontline’s saying, arms-in-secrecy.

I was going to invest on her potential.

I looked down from her eyes to her hoof, inwardly patting my back as she sagged in relief, before I frowned when I looked at her wound.

There were cracks on her chitinous hoof, dried green liquid stuck in between them, but the worst part was the center of it all, or to be more specific, where I slit her a few hours back.

Green-yellowish goop oozed out from the rather enlarged wound, filling the air with a scent not unlike a bag of rotten fruit, mashed with a decomposing body.

On the corner of my eyes, I noticed Nero wrinkling her nose in disgust before jumping to my pillow, and breathed on it instead.

To be honest, I was rather surprised that she hadn’t catch a fever, or something from her festering wound.

“Buh-wha?” Was her rather eloquent and graceful response.

“Yeah,” I nodded, ignoring her reaction as I sat next to her. “You could’ve and should’ve waked me up. Hell, I’m surprised you’re not having a fever, but I’d wager you would if you were a bit late.”

She did a rather impressive impression of a goldfish as I pulled her hoof to my lap, and uncorked the cheap vodka. Finally, she clamped her mouth shut, and almost in a daze, answered, “Changeling’s body immunity is more resilient than most—GAH!”

She yelped in pain as I poured a generous amount of alcohol, tears leaked from her closed eyes. “Oh, don’t be a little bitch; it’s just a little sting.” I said, ripping a small cut of the bandage to wipe the pus, and the alcohol away, much to her whimpering.

“It hurts…” she whined.

“Like I said…” I rolled the bandage around her hoof, covering the cracks and the wound, before ripping it off the tail and tied it together. “Done.”

She opened her eyes, looking at her bandaged hoof with something akin to relief. “Thank you.” Specter murmured.

“No problem.” I responded, corking the half-empty vodka bottle and put the left-over bandage and the bottle back into the bag. “That said, I’m going to need you learn a few things.”

Her ears perked up at that, immediately looking up at me with a newfound curiosity. “Learn what?”

“Spying in general,” I answered her. “I don’t think you have much training in it, yes?”

She grimaced, and settled with a nod.

I shrugged. “That would explain a lot of things,” and proved me that I wasn’t rusty. I reached into my bag, reaching deeper, or at least, I think it’s deeper. I can’t really explain how the Bag of Holding works, even if it was mass-produced.

Hence, why it was highly expensive, and the only ones who got freebie are couriers. Couriers, who would walk to the other side of the world, fight gods, defy the law, kill legendary beasts, rule over warlords, make their own empire, and somehow survives a shot to the head. Just to send a love letter to a random redhead.

Mad bunch, all of them.

Finally, I pulled out a book. It’s probably not better than the Frontline’s training, but it’s going to do for Specter. I gave it to her. “There, that should cover all things needed for you to actually be a good spy.”

She… balanced the book with her hoof, and read the title aloud. “How to be a good spy, written by… spy?”

I nodded. “Just learn it on your way back to your home.” I climbed up to my feet, and made my way to the mouth of the cave, with my companions in toll, with the exception of Nero who hopped onto my shoulder the moment I stood.

I peeked outside, and to my slight surprise, the moon had returned to the horizon, and had been replaced by the big ball of energy, lovingly named the sun.

“Right,” I said, turning around to meet Specter’s eyes. “I suppose it’s your time to go back to your hive, and when you meet your queen, tell her this…”

()_()_()

The sun shone from its height, illuminating the quaint little Ponyville as I walked down the road. The birds were flying in circles in the sky, occasionally letting out happy chirps. A random brown dog crossed my path, and I had to force down the urge to kick it away.

Now, all it needed was the cold glare I would receive from the ponies. Except there wasn’t. Or any pony for a matter of fact.

I watched the roads carefully, from every alleys, nooks and crannies of Ponyville with cautious eyes. Ruby fidgeted uncomfortably as she stared at the empty flower stand, before looking away, and Nero kept sniffing the air nervously.

“I can’t smell any of them.” Nero had whispered to me, before going back sniffing, despite its futility.

Ruby’s head swiveled around the empty stands, before looking at me with a nervous look. “What is going on in here? Where is everypony?”

“Question of the year.” I answered her, taking a peek at the next alley, and what I saw made me blink.

A familiar pink pony stood in the dark alley, but there were something different about her now. Her hair, instead of being the very definition of Mr. Richard’s torture object, was straight down, obscuring her face as her head hung low, and her vibrant pink color was now dull.

Pinkie Pie, or I would later find out, Pinkamena Diane Pie.

We watched in silence at the pink lump and in instant, and something in my mind clicked. Empty, creepy town? Check. The only one left is probably mad? Check. In a dark alley? Fucking check.

Yeah. Nope.

I slowly backed away from the pink menace, and much to my dismay, she took a step forward. I did another step backward, and she did another forward. I stepped backward again, and she did the same thing.

“You will go to my party.” She murmured, somehow making it sounded dark.

I glanced behind me, before looking back to the pink menace, I waved my arm, casting a quick spell, and hundreds of sharp icicles formed before darting to her. “No!” I shouted, booking the fuck out from the alley, into the road, and took a hard left.

I really didn’t expect that to stop her, well, here’s hoping that Celestia had already sent someone to pick me away.

“YOU WILL GO TO MY PARTY, CAIN REDFIELD! YOU WILL, AND YOU WILL LIKE IT!”

Holy Hells. My eyes widened, before I gave a glance back. The pink menace’s face was set into a scowl her dull blue bloodshot eyes glared at me with a mix of desperation and… madness? “Holy balls of the seventh, did she just—“

I didn’t get the chance to finish my sentence as new weight smashed my back, and I grunted, stumbling forward and hit the ground with not too little bruises and hopefully a few cracked ribs.

Nero yowled, and Ruby let out a panicked scream.

I gasped for air, tilted my head to my back, and much to my nonexistent surprise, the pink menace was lying there, her body pinning my own to the ground.

Her mouth stretched into a twisted grin as she leaned into my ears. “I caught you, and you will go to my party, and you will like it. And if you don’t, then I will make another, and if you don’t like it again, I will make another one. Until you like it.” She whispered creepily, and I was expecting her to lick my ears to make it creepier.

Thankfully, she didn’t.

I stared blankly at her, before closing my eyes, accepting my fate all the while cursing every god I knew. “Of course I will go to your party.”

In response to my answer, her straight mane inflated into an eldritch abomination for every hairdresser and her color had somehow, brightened back into a vibrant pink.

She jumped off my back. “AWESOME!” She cheered loudly, looking at me with a genuine large grin, before she reached into her hair, and somehow pulled a letter from it. “Here,” she said cheerfully, putting the piece of paper into my hand. “Now, I’m going to prepare your party, goodbye!”

And she was gone in a pink blur, leaving dusts all over the

I climbed onto my feet slowly, wincing as my ribs decided to be a pain, and stared at the paper: “Sugarcube Corner, and you better be there, mister! Or I’ll chase you again.” it said, with a smiley face on the end.

I looked up at the sun, raising my hand, and slowly lifted my middle finger. “Fuck. You.” I lowered my hand, and walked down a random road, trusting my feet to lead the way.

“What just happened?”

I sighed, and twisted my neck, giving that much satisfied sounding crack. “I don’t know, Ruby. I just don’t know, but whatever it is, I’m blaming Celestia.”

She screwed her face for a moment, before pointing out, “But weren’t you the one who chose today?”

Nero giggled under her paws. “She just got you.”

I rolled my eyes, kicking a random puppy that just happened to trot by. “Ruby, I’m a selfish person, and I’m blaming Celestia just like other gods.” I said, ignoring her aghast expression as she stared the whimpering puppy on the ground.

She pointed at the dirty puppy. “Why did you do that?!” She shouted, both in anger and panic.

“It’s a dog. They’re all the spawn of demons, hiding under the disguise of a harmless animal, and kill you when you let your guard off.” I scoffed, and with my feet, I rolled the dying puppy to the side of a nearby trashcan.

“It’s just a puppy!” She protested angrily, slamming her little hood on the air.

“Ruby, dogs are like elves. Say you spare a baby elf, and it would end up being a traitorous scum. Dogs are the same, except stupider.” I explained calmly, like I usually would to Lily. “I wouldn’t even be surprised if there’s a dog-themed race in this world, and their common activity is to enslave other ponies.”

“I don’t believe you,” She pouted, looking away from me. “Puppies are good, and cute. They’re supposed to be cuddled, and they are not the spawn of devils.”

“You’ll see.”

I took a left at a random road, passing the most outrageous designed building, a literal gingerbread house. Thankfully, there’s not a pedophilic and cannibalistic witch living in it, or at least, I didn’t there was. If there was, I would kill her, and then burn the town to ashes for housing a sick person.

Regardless of whether they knew they hid a sick witch, or not.

“Uh, Psyche?” Ruby called.

I looked at her. “What?”

She pointed at the gingerbread house. “I think that’s the Sugarcube Corner?” She said hesitantly, almost tentatively.

I stopped, before turning around and stared at the ginger house. “Are you sure, Ruby?”

“No. I’m pretty sure my Cutie mark is not about looking for things, it’s about burning ants with a magnifying glass.” She deadpanned.

I sighed, glaring at my legs. “Dammit legs, why did you betray me?” I muttered, before very, very slowly moved back to the house. I put up the best fake smile I could as I remembered Pinkie’s word.

“Until you like it.”

“Alright,” I murmured, straightening my almost destroyed robe. “Put a smile, and wave, just like Captain Corpus taught you.”

I pushed the door open.

Expectedly, the room was as black as my heart, before something clicked and the light brightened the whole room. A large banner hung on the middle of the room. Welcome to Ponyville, and I’m sorry for being rude party!

Rude? More like being Mr. Richard-y as fuck.

The familiar pink pony jumped from her cover, opening both of her fore-hooves in a welcome gesture as she, with more balance than an elf, stood in the middle of the room. “SURPRISE!” She cheered loudly.

Oh, there were other ponies too, but they were glaring at me with that usual hate that Jaime once had used before he poisoned my sister. Oh, and before I made use of my Frontline’s training.

An awkward silence hung in the air, as Pinkie’s chest puffed up and down, a random pink balloon popped into a sad sagging rubber, and she finally dropped to all four.

A random, unimportant pony in the background coughed, and as if on cue, all of them awkwardly exploded into a half-hearted applause as they stomped their hooves on the floor.

Then they stopped, hanging another awkward silence to the rope, before another pony coughed, and the crowd exploded into a loud. “SURPRISE!”

Oblivious, Pinkie somehow grabbed my hand, and dragged me someplace else. “Oh, I’m so happy that you came. I thought I have to chase you all around ponyville! Oh, I’m going to introduce to my best friends, and then to all of the ponies in here! I heard Time Turner is trying to speak with you, oh, and did you see how Lyra looked at you!? You’re going to like this party!”

She took a huge gulp of air, burning my wish that she would die of forgetting to breathe. Then again, that would probably a bad idea as other ponies would accuse me of homicide, and try to execute me.

I completely ignored the emphasis when she said, like.

Regardless, I kept my Frontline’s quality happy grin on my face. “Sure thing, Pinkie, I’d be happy to meet your friends and the others!” I cheerfully said.

Ruby stared at me as if I had just said I would be happy to meet Pinkie’s friends, which I, had unfortunately, did. Poor Nero shuddered noticeable on my shoulder.

I hate it when you use that tone. She commented, before shuddering slightly. It’s creepy.

“Oh. You’re going to love this party!” Pinkie shouted, snapping me out of my inner world.

Pinkie dragged me to a group of five ponies, one of them being Rarity, and one… green purple gecko thingy. All of them stared at me with different emotion. The purple one stared at me with a mix curiosity and distrust, Rarity with a… dreamy expression?

The rainbow Pegasus glared at me with distrust, while the hat-wearing one narrowed her green eyes with suspicion, and the butter Pegasus hid behind orange’s back, staring at me fearfully.

And the green purple gecko thingy? It just stood shakily in front of Rarity’s, glaring at me for some reason, as if trying to protect her.

Momentarily, I pondered if burning the whole building down to ashes would be worth Celestia’s rage, alas, like trying to resurrect my dead sister, or turning into a life of raidin’ and rapin’, it’s not.

Pinkie, with a strength I shouldn’t be surprised anymore—At least this one doesn’t rip my arm—pulled me in front of her purple friend. “Psyche, meet Twilight Sparkle. She’s Princess Celestia’ protégé and my most magical best friend!” Pinkie leaned up to my ears. “And she tastes like grapes.” She whispered silently, before giggling.

I ignored her last word, and raised an eyebrow at her title. She looked like she wanted to say something, but before she could; Pinkie pulled me away to Rarity, whose expression changed from a dreamy into a grimace when she looked at my robe and into a gasp as she spotted my bandaged hand.

“My dear!” Her dirty hoof shot out to her mouth. “Are you alright? You look like you have been stomped by an Ursa. Just what happened to you?”

Self-inflicted-damage, weakly enchanted robe, dark ritual, sleeping in a cave, Nero’s very sharp claws, and a few cracked ribs courtesy of the pink abomination, I shrugged. “Eh, accidents happen.”

Out in the corner of my peripheral, I noticed the Stetson-wearing pony’s glare doubled. I shrugged it off, as Rarity gave me a sympathized nod. “Yes—“

Pinkie pulled me again, much to Rarity’s surprise, and this time, I was in front of the glaring rainbow Pegasus. “And this is Rainbow Dash—I call her Dashie— she’s the best, coolest, awesomest, and spectacular-est flyer in Ponyville!”

Rainbow Dash preened under Pinkie’s praise. “Yeah, I’m the best flyer in town.” Then she noticed who I was, and glared at me again. “Not that you need to know.”

“I’m sure I’m not.”

What the hell did I do? I was just defending myself from a Mr. Richard-ish creature by burning it, and gave it a nice, perfect side neck-chop. Ah, people these days can’t appreciate a good biology lesson, and those that did, would always try to pull my pants off, and forced their way to me.

Once again, a verily bored Cain was pulled away from the fuming Rainbow, and I stood in front of a glaring orange, Stetson-wearing pony—that reminded me slightly of that one kid that tried to suck his brother’s penis before I killed them both— and a butter colored Pegasus with a pink mane hiding behind Orange.

Pinkie’s hoof pointed at the orange mare. “This is Applejack, Ponyville’s perpetrator of Sweet Apple Acres, and she loves apple. And this,” She pointed at the mare behind Applejack. “Is Fluttershy, the kindest and best animal caretakers of Ponyville!”

I tilted my head to the glaring Applejack. “Nice to meet you,” I turned to the mare behind her. “And you too.”

“I’m sure.” Applejack answered coldly, much to the surprise of everyone’s faces, if their bulging eyes were any signs.

“Applejack!” Twilight admonished.

“I’m sorry, Twi, but he’s a liar, and I ain’t goinna force myself to be nice and whatnot with somepony that wouldn’t be honest to us.” Applejack retorted, trying to glare a hole out of my head.

“Applejack, darling!” Rarity gasped, her hooves flew to her mouth again. “I doubt that Psyche—It’s Psyche right?—is really lying,” she turned her head to me, “Right?”

“Of course not,” I said, lying through my smile, as I stared at Applejack’s eyes. “Why would I lie?”

The mare merely flared her nose. “Buck this!” She shouted, stomping away to a random table on the corner and sat on them.

The five ponies looked at each other in worry, glanced at me before glancing at Applejack, and in unspoken agreement, all of them, except Rarity went to her table.

Rarity looked up at me with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, dear. Perhaps Applejack is a little bit tired when somepony stole her apples yesterday,” She said, narrowing her eyes. “I do hope that pony will get captured soon.”

Ruby gave a stink eye, and I professionally ignored it. “No, it’s alright. Though, I have to ask if my robe is done yet.”

“Oh!” she smiled, almost giddily. “Yes, of course it’s done, and I would say it’s perfect! In fact,” her horn glowed in blue aura and a gift box hidden under a random table—Talk about convenient— floated in front of me. “It’s right here.”

I let my eye twitched inwardly, before taking the package from her magical grip and put it into my bag. A heavy enchantment will be applied for later. “Thank you, Rarity.” I opened my coin pouch, glancing up at her. “How much is it?”

She waved her white hoof daintily. “No need, dear. I think the experience is an enough payment for me.”

I shrugged, placing the coin pouch back to my belt. “If you say so.”

Cue awkward silence.

She cleared her throat, looking to the group of friends behind her, before smiling at me. “I should go there.” She excused herself, walking to the table in which her friends were sitting, talking with that Applejack.

I turned around, looking over the crowd of ponies, before I settled with sitting on an empty table. I hummed a little tune, about a bored mage visiting a party in which the mage decided to burn the party to the ground because his mother told him to do so.

Sadly, I couldn’t do that.

I leaned to the table. Reaching inside of my bag, I pulled out a large bottle of whiskey. I sighed silkily, uncorking the alcoholic beverage, and lifted the lips of the bottle to mine.

I took a huge gulp, letting the burning liquid flow through my throat as I watched over the crowd. Most of them ignored my existence as they talked, whispered, and gossiped about my existence. I took a small gulp of the whiskey again.

There were few ones, surprisingly, who outright glared at me, looking as if I didn’t belong, and I should either suck their cocks, bend over and let their large cocks pierced my virginal anus, or kick me over my ass.

Then there’s the rare one, unsurprisingly only four of them in the sea of horse cocks, and horse vaginas. One of them was a sea foam green unicorn, who had that sultry look as she stared at my fingers, and there’s a brown coated stallion with a spiky mane and an hourglass mark on his rear, looking at me curiously with suspicion.

Oh, he’s walking to me.

I took another gulp of the alcohol, finally feeling it buzzing through my blood as the stallion weaved through the sea of ponies until he reached over my table.

We stared at each other’s eyes. I, for one, was quite impressed at the age in his eyes. A mix of Celestia’s and Mr. Richard’s, except less Mr. Richard-y.

“Master?” He finally broke the staring contest in a serious manner.

I blinked, looking at my bottle of alcohol, then at the incredulous Nero, to the confused Ruby, to my bone necklace, then to the stallion. I shrugged, taking three large huge gulps of alcohol, lifted up my necklace and put it over Nero’s neck.

It’s time to broaden up my preferences, it seemed.

I gave the stallion sultry grin, hooking my arm over his neck. “Not in public, dearie. You could call me that all night in the bed.” I whispered huskily, leading him upstairs.

His eyes widened in… surprise? “What? No!” He tried to struggle away from me.

I grinned, giving his ear a nip, and his struggle died away as he let out a half-moan. “Oh, don’t worry, dearie. I could play a good master.”

I opened a random door as I reached upstairs. A bedroom, it seemed. Perfect. I threw him down on to the bed, falling on his back; I locked the door for safety reasons, before I turned to the splayed stallion on the bed, his ears laid on the back of his head.

His horrified eyes met my hungry ones.

And the night was filled with his happy moans.

()_()_()

“So, what’s the plan, young Cain?”

Three months. It took three months that I’d gotten the gist and how to use Soul magic. Sure, maybe my skill wasn’t and won’t beat a master of soul magic—if there’s any, since most of them are probably dead— but I had at least gotten down on how to take souls, and use said souls.

“I’m going to disguise myself into the mansion, while you distract the guards by killing them?”

“Ah, yes,” The warlock beside my nodded wistfully. “You’re going to use your Frontline skills, yes?”

I blinked, looking at him with wide eyes. “You know?”

He scoffed. “Of course I know. The better question is, what don’t I know? Regardless, it was fun watching your team go with it. Especially when the elf had an ‘accident’, hate crime at its best.”

I sighed, looking back at the large gate from behind the bushes. “Captain Korpus encouraged it, and beside, elves’ scum doesn’t have the right to live when they crossed us. Now, back to the mission?”

“Right,” he coughed his hand, before he stood up from the bush. Guards standing, and guarding the mansion stared in fright as the caught the sight of a certain warlock. “RICHARD WARLOCK!” screaming his war cry, the warlock ran out, causing mayhem amongst the running, and suicidal guards.

Meanwhile, I sneaked silently to the side, avoiding the fight in the middle, and the front of the mansion. There are a few benefits of invading your own house, knowing the secret entrance being one of them.

Unsurprisingly, I found a guard crouching in the bushes as I entered a secret hole in the wall. The blade on his grip shook visibly from the screams of pain caused by Mr. Richard.

Bingo.

I pulled out my wand, and unaware of my presence, I crawled silently to him, and I tapped his back. He froze, before he stiffly turned his head to look behind him. He got an icicle gouged into his eye instead, and fell down to the ground, his face frozen in eternal shock.

I looked at Nero who sat on my shoulder. “You go watch. If there’s anyone coming, just yowl. Got it?”

She let a meow, before jumping away to the edge of the thick bushes.

It took a moment, but before long, I wore the guard’s outfit. A guard’s helm covered my head, convenient on fooling the guards. I sheathed my newly acquired sword, before blowing a small whistle.

Nero jumped from the bushes, and I crouched down in front of her. “Listen girl, I’m going inside the mansion, but you can’t go with me. It’s too dangerous, so I want you to wait on the City’s gate. If I succeed, I’ll meet you there, but if I’m not,” I let out a sad smile. “Well, you’ll know.”

She let out a meow, nuzzling my thigh, and I gave my familiar a scratch to the back her ears, before I stood up.

“Be careful, Nero.”

She replied with a determine meow, before jumping over the bushes, where hopefully she’d wait on the City’s gate

“Great,” I ruffled my outfit, and set a panicked expression on my face, before I ran in fake fear to the mansion and banged the large double door. “Open the door! Quick!”

The door quickly swung open, revealing a dimmed foyer. A double stair, with red carpets settled on the front, and a few paintings and expensive tapestries planted on the wall.

Two guards looked at me in surprise. “What’s wrong, boy?” the older man on the left gruffly asked.

“We—“I took a panicked breath.”We’re under attack!”

“What?!” The other guard, a slightly younger man, shouted in anger. “Is it that sister killer, Cain?”

“No.” I shook my head, my expression the very impersonation of fear.”No. It’s worse. It’s that Warlock, Richard! He’s a attacking us!”

Hook, line, and sinker; just like that, the two guards bore the same expression of mine. “That Richard?” The older man muttered in fear. “Come on in, boy.”

We entered the foyer; the other guard quickly closed the door with a slam and locked it, before leaning fearfully on the door. “I-I heard he could split a man with his bare hands,” he muttered shakily, tears leaked from his eyes. “My neighbor’s wife went missing, and he found her skinned on the road, still alive, and screaming. Oh gods, that could be us!”

“Calm yourself, boy! We must call reinforcements!” The older man commanded, trying to mask his fear with bravado. To no avail.

“We’ll be sending them to their death, if we did!” I argued, fake tears of fear leaked from my eyes before I wiped them off with my sleeve. “I was going to propose to my girlfriend, dammit!” I shouted. “I thought this was going to be an easy job. Guarding a man from his disgusting brother! And now I’m going to die!”

The slightly younger guard stood up from the door, his hand gripped to something in his belt. He looked at the older man and me. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know this is something cowardly, but please, I don’t want to die by that mad man. If you do survive, please tell my wife I love her.”

Before we—well, before the older man— could do anything, the guard pulled out a dagger from his belt and stabbed it to his neck. He gurgled for a moment, before he fell down to the floor. Dead.

“No…” The older man whispered, staring at the corpse with shock. “By the gods—“

I whipped out my wand, and an icicle went through his neck, cutting him of his words and killed him soundlessly as he dropped to the floor with a thump. Dead as well.

I crouched down next to the suicide man, and pulled out the dagger from his neck, wiping the blood away with the tail end of his outfit, and slipped them in behind my belt.

Looking around, I climbed up the stairs, and took a left. If I was to guess, then the Spider would probably in father’s office. He’s always there since father was in his death bed, and he’s going to be there since father had died two months ago.

Soon enough, I found another large double door as I took another turn. Four guards, two of them mages, stood alert as they spotted me.

“What’s wrong, guard?” The armored mage, a female, asked.

I gulped a heavy amount of air, staring fearfully at the fours, as I slightly changed my pitch voice. “We’re attacked by the Richard Warlock!” I shouted, leaning tiredly against the wall.

Four of them stared at me in shock, and that shock turned to fear. “Are you sure, boy?” The large bearded guard, a Zweihander hung on his back, asked worriedly.

I nodded, sliding to the floor as I ‘remembered’ something horrifying. “He-he, that monster, killed my partner with a snap!” I shook, pulling my knees close to my body. “She was a nice girl too, heard that she was going to meet her visiting parents tomorrow.” I choked a fake sob.

“W-what happened to the door’s guard?” The other mage asked, his hand covered his hooded face. “Shouldn’t they be the ones who informed this news?”

“Marcus!” His partner, the other guard, shouted. “I don’t think—“

“Dead.” I answered, staring emptily at the wall opposite of me. “They killed themselves when they heard about the Warlock attacking us,” I sobbed, laying my head to my knees. “The swordsman pulled a dagger and stabbed his throat, while the other used ice magic to pierce his own neck.”

“Oh.”

“Great.” The large man muttered, leaning tiredly against the wall. “What do we do now?”

“We,” The female mage started, staring at her partner and the others with fiery determination. “We kill him. We’re not going to give up, dammit!” she stomped her foot to the floor. “We’re handpicked by the General for things like this. We may die in his sick hands, and it won’t be a quick death, but we are here for this kind of thing! Sure, he could do stuffs we couldn’t do in our entire life, but if we work together, then maybe, maybe we could kill that sick bastard!”

“Aye, indeed you’re my partner,” the large man said, chuckling. “Albeit a fiery one, but wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

The female mage stared at her partner in appreciation. “Thanks.” Then she turned to the other two. “What about you guys?”

The two looked at each other, before the mage, Marcus, shrugged. “This is stupid,” he sighed, staring blankly at his palm. “Regardless, we’re going to die if we stay here. I’d say trying to kill Richard the Warlock would be a fitting end for me.” He clamped his arm, thumping his chest. “It would be perfect.”

The other guard shrugged, hooking his arm over his partner. “Marcus and I have been friends ever since we were young. If he’s going to die fighting an impossible enemy, then I’m going to help him the best I can.” He grinned, patting the sword on his side.

The fiery mage nodded, before she turned at me. “And what about you, guard?”

I let out a shuddering breath, and looked at her green eyes. “Sorry,” I replied, before I pulled out a dagger from my belt. “I think I’m going to go out with a coward’s way.”

Her green eyes showed pity, before she looked away. “I pray the spirits guide you to a fitting afterlife.” She murmured, and left the hall with her large partner in toll.

The other two looked at me with pity, and some… anger as I stared blankly at them, before they walked away. “Good luck!” I shouted.

I waited until the steps were gone before I stood up from the wall, stretching my neck, causing a nice sound of cracks. “Idiots.” I muttered, shaking my head amusedly.

I stood before the large doors; my father’s office room. If I remembered, the room was heavily enchanted with one way soundproof. They could hear from inside, but they couldn’t from outside.

That meant I couldn’t use a disguise anymore, unless my brother was either sleeping or had a brain damage, sadly, it was neither. I shrugged. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

I pushed the large door open with ease, something that my great-grand-grandfather’s thought of doing after his back almost broke from opening the damned door.

The walls were covered with bookcases, books of all types—mostly smut— stored in each one of them. The floor was carpeted with our namesake, red velvet, and in the middle of it all was a long desk, filled with random junks. And on the desk was the Spider.

“Guard, what are you doing here?” he asked, tilting his face bored, though there’s a sliver of fear in those hazel eyes. “I thought you were going to kill yourself.”

“I-I’m sorry, My Lord,” I apologized; letting the power of ice took control of my emotion. “It’s just that I want to kill you.”

His eyes widened as he looked at my face. Truly looked at my face, and recognition flashed through them, and being actually smart, he whipped out his wand, and casted a quick fire ball at me.

I rolled out of the way; the sound of something exploded indicated that the door was no more, before I quickly stood up, whipping up and aimed my wand to him. “Why Jaime, is that how you treated your very angry and pissed off brother? Is this how you treated my sister?” I growled as I stomped closer to him, shooting an accurate ice bolt to his wand, sending it careening to the floor.

His terrified face grew triumphant and I had to roll away just for in case. Luckily it wasn’t a trap or something. No. Instead, the Spider pulled out something under his desk.

Intricately carved wooden stock, golden glint, and a black end of the barrel, pointed at me. A gun, or more precisely, an antique Flintlock pistol, used more as a collection, but still dangerous nonetheless.

That is, counting if it’s not in the hand of mages.

I retracted everything about my brother not being a total retard, because apparently he is. It was explained in the academy’s military class! Granted, the teacher only stressed that A) Imperial’s weapons are dangerous, and B) if you’re at the end point of the barrel, either have a fast mouth or a fast hand, or have your head blown up.

Of course, the teacher told us about what happened when a mage used an Imperial’s weapon, if only for once in the whole three years of basic military training.

Then again, he had never stood face to face to a real pistol, wielded by a cold blooded Imperial’s psychopath.

Taking in the sudden boon in stride, I widened my eyes in fake fear, as I took a step back. “H-How?” I stuttered, whilst inwardly laughing like a certain insane Warlock.

If I had thought he couldn’t be smugger, then I was wrong. His grin could probably make Mr. Richard to kill him with his piss and filled his body with shits and cocks. “Why, brother? Have you lost your own pitiful courage?” He let out a small shrug. “But I suppose I could tell you about this… pistol. Disgusting, I know, but dangerous nonetheless. Do you believe that father actually bought this from the black market? He hid it behind the case over there,” He nodded his head to the bookcase on his left. “Told me not to use it when I showed it to him, nonsense, I say.”

Well, at least that explained how he got the damn thing. “This is stupidity!” I shouted, generously pouring a plenty dose of fear all over it. “You’d be punished for treason of this!”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, the pistol clicked as his finger cocked it. “I wonder who they would believe. A man that ‘killed’ his sister, and listed to a suicide squad of criminals, or the one that ‘cared’ for his sister and the current head of the Redfield?”

Oh, if only he knew that the Frontline wasn’t just some bullshit squad of criminals, if he just only knew, and right there, he would’ve realized that he had royally fucked up.

Because really, even if I died, the kingdom would rather believe a former loyalist spy than a mother fucking Imperial’s weapon using ass fucking sister killing piece of shit.

Regardless, he didn’t know any of that shit. He wasn’t that important in the military politic, not even father. Heck, I doubted the Military even trusted me when I was—forcefully— enlisted to the supposed suicide squad comprised of criminals.

I was, after all, still a Redfield.

Poor Lily, she didn’t even fit in the whole Redfield’s behavior. If I had the choice, I would probably make her into the first woman in ages to lord over a house, and she’d make a damn fine Lord.

No such luck, of course.

“Any last word, brother?”

I gave him an icy glare. “You’re a fool.”

“No!” he snarled, his grip on the pistol tightened. “You are.”

With that, he pulled the trigger, and the pull of his trigger, his arm blew up. Chunks and bits of raw flesh splashed all over the room, his blood painted the whole room with our namesake. All the while, the fool screamed in pain, flailing around like a dancing black midget.

It’s ingenious, really, manufacturing your own brand of weapon to be unusable by your enemies, or at least every magical being; which meant pretty much everyone, except for people who aren’t born of being a mage.

Of course, our person that’s not a mage could use it, but then again, they preferred on using swords. And besides, using or having an Imperial’s weapon pretty much meant treason, and the punishment of treason is worse than the punishment of raping an orphan.

The fool slipped his blood, falling down to the floor as he kept on screaming and flailing like a ten years old kid having an anal for his first time.

I whistled a jaunty tune as I bouncily walked next to him. His face covered in his own blood and the stumped arm kept pouring blood like an orgy gone wrong. Can’t have that. Pulling out my wand, I blasted his stump with a fire ball, cauterizing and cooking his arm.

If I thought he couldn’t scream more like a bitch, I was wrong. I kicked his side hard, spitting on his chest. “Don’t be a little bitch.” I smirked, looking at his hyperventilating body. “Ah, this would be more ironic if your name is Abel,” I looked over at the desk. “Now, where’s that little spider?”

“No!” He shouted, flailing in both pain and fear. Pain of having his arm roasted, and fear of feeling and watching his familiar about to die. “Don’t.”

I opened the desk’s drawer, and true to my prediction, the little shit was there. Its fangs chattered angrily as it stood on its hind legs, trying to intimidate me.

Briefly, I tried to recall the damned thing’s name. Failing that, I simply blasted the disgusting Arachnida to ashes.

“NO!” The fool, bitch, soon-to-be-eunuch, and cripple, cried in anger. “Why did you do that?!”

I snapped to him, giving him a glare. “Did you ask yourself when you poisoned our—No,” I shook my head in disgust. “My sister, not yours. Did you think about her looks of pain when you fucking poisoned her?”

The little fool didn’t say anything, glaring at me as if he’s going to be able to do something.

I stomped my foot on top of his chest, causing him to gasp as I pressed it down. “I want to kill, I want to so, so kill you right now. Just a little push and you’re dead.” I pulled my foot away from his chest. “But no, I won’t do that, because I did kill her, technically. Instead, I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

I unsheathed my sword, and without giving any warning, I swung the sword down, right at the thigh. He screamed as the blade almost cut through the bone. I gave it another swing, and his left leg was severed from his body.

Not waiting for him to die of blood loss, I pulled out my wand and blasted the damn stump with fire, and the fool roared in pain. I relished in it. I did the same thing with his other leg and remaining arm.

Hack, cut, and burn. Rinse and repeat.

I swiped a hand through my sweating forehead, sheathing the sword as I looked at the screaming, crying and begging and pleading bitch with a smile. “Now,” I next to his lower… torso, and pulled out a dagger from my belt. “Time for the finale.”

The soon-to-be eunuch stared at the dagger with horror, before he closed his eyes and began whimpering once more. “Please,” he sobbed, another stream of tears flowed down to his cheeks. “Just-just kill me already.”

I ignored his empty blabbering, pulling what’s left of his lower wear, revealing his definitely-not standing cock. Damn, I thought he was a sick bastard who takes pleasure upon pain.

Shrugging, and ignoring the asshole’s more panicked attempt to stop me, I grabbed the tip of his cock and lifted it to the air; my dagger’s sharp edge met the bottom of his penis.

“Please…”

With a swift motion of my dagger, and his cock came off from his body; depraving my brother of having a child and continuing the Redfield’s line, or having sex in general—Well, he could turn his body into a sex toy that those sick men in Sodom and Gomorrah usually enjoys.

The bitch screamed once again, something that was uniquely mixed with despair, and pain. Pulling out my wand, I burned the stumped tip of his cock, along with his testicles.

I stood up, groaning as I stretched my back.”Great,” I threw the piece of floppy sausage to the fool’s face, and slipped my dagger back to my belt. “Enjoy your life, brother.”

With a smile, I swaggered to the hall, ignoring the roar and curse from my useless, crippled, and damned brother. I walked down the stairs, opened the double door, and blinked in surprise. Well, not surprise, more like impressed.

Bodies, dead guards’ bodies strewn around on the courtyard, most of them headless, skinned, burned, froze, and even bisected messily. A single man in cowl stood in the middle of it all, waving happily at me. On his right hand was a head, a female one, and as I got closer, I noted the green eyes.

Ah, it's that idiot.

Lying beside his feet was a large skinned corpse, a Zweihänder in its dead hand, just like the partner of the dead girl. “I suppose you’ve done well, hmm?” Mr. Richard inquired, looking at my blood covered clothe before nodding approvingly. “Done like a true Redfield."

I shrugged. “Thanks, I guess, for your…” I looked around the corpse filled courtyard. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was going to be written in a history book. “Help.”

He waved the head on his right arm in dismissal. “The pleasure’s all mine. And this girl is funny.”

I chuckled. “I agree.” I looked at the horizon, the sun was rising. I looked back to Mr. Richard, who was admiring the head as he played with its muscles. “Well, I think it’s a goodbye. I hope I will never meet you again.”

I walked away from him, and to the gate, but before I could, Mr. Richard called to me. “Cain!” He had shouted. I turned around. “Catch!” The insane warlock threw five green-glowing balls—at the size of a bottle-cap— at me.

Dread filled my vein, and driving on instinct alone, I dashed and grabbed the five balls before it fell to the ground. I whipped my head, glaring at the damned, powerful and insane Warlock.

“Nice catch! Keep it. You’ll need it soon.”

I grumbled, looking at the five glowing green balls with dread as I walked to the gate, before I pocketed the damn thing, and rushed to the city gate.

I found her curled up in a ball on the city’s wall. She perked up the moment she caught me, and jumped to my leg, nuzzling it as if I would vanish if she stopped doing so.

I smiled, picking her up in a cradle, patting her head lovingly. “I know,” I said, chuckling. “I miss you too.”

Our moment was broken, however, when a guard screamed “Halt!” behind my back. Then I suddenly remembered what my outfit was covered with.

I ran to the city gate, and away from the city.

I blamed everything on living with Mr. Richard in three months.

Author's Note:

Edit: I ain't gonna use Import Gdoc evah. Fuck that shit.

Comments

[SoothingCoffee]

5519953 The voice told me to write this. It's not of my own.

[Amethyst Blade]

5519953 This is late but I agree whole heartly...

[DJ Deathboot]

5520931 fallout new Vegas begining and the confemed bachler perk

[Carrara]

6246905
Your grammar. I have no words. That is to say, I have as many words as you have grammatically correct sentences.

[Sets]

Hence, why it was highly expensive, and the only ones who got freebie are couriers. Couriers, who would walk to the other side of the world, fight gods, defy the law, kill legendary beasts, rule over warlords, make their own empire, and somehow survives a shot to the head. Just to send a love letter to a random redhead.

atleast someone respects them