Bloodshed

03. two assassins in one room

Chapter 3

Two Assassins in One Room

"Look, I already told you, lass," the barman says, not even sparing me a single glance anymore. "I don't have a clue who you're talking about." And that's that. The man with the fish tattooed on his arm walks away from me. It's the seventh time he does this.

There's a young man who's around my age who rents a room of yours, one above the bar. Who is he? Not a hard question, right? Well, he acts as if it's an impossible one. It's not math, he can easily answer with a yes or a no.

He pretends as if he doesn't know about a young man renting one of his apartments. And he dares to lie right in my face. Back at The Hole Of The Vipers, I'd make him pay for just that. But here, I only press my lips into a thin line, refusing to ask him another time. I already know he's going to lie again, so why should I?

I've seen the assassin come in here, since I've followed him multiple times. I've never seen him kill again, though, but that's mainly because I left before anything got bloody. I knew that if I did stay, I'd imagine Mor, and I just couldn't handle that.

It has been a week since she disappeared. A long week full of searching for her, hoping that she hasn't fallen prey to the assassin, after all.

The assassin, the young man. I must admit, he does remind me of myself–of what I'd have become if I'd stayed obedient and killed the father in cold blood. I wonder if he feels awful about the whole killing part. If so, I most certainly didn't notice. But what do I expect? He is a Viper.

After finally having a simpler life, I'm forced to face The Hole Of The Vipers again. The place I wished never to hear or say its name again. The place I wanted so badly to forget. But it appears I can't. And especially not now.

Noticing the way the barman ignores even passing me at this point, I don't order another drink to persuade him. Instead, I hop off the bar chair as he heads to an elderly woman who just entered this place with her chihuahua. The barman doesn't so what glance at me, probably wishing that if he doesn't, I won't bother him again.

And he's right; I won't bother him directly anymore. My eyes fall on the door that leads to a private part of the café. Since we're both fed up with each other, I decide to give the old man some space. I head towards the door.

I only peek once to check if he knows what I'm up to, and he doesn't. He's still in conversation with the elderly woman, smiling brightly at her. The woman came on cue, and I'm thankful for her presence when I disappear through the door that leads to the private part of this café.

Closing the door behind me, I wonder that perhaps I should stay in here, so I can make him give me the man's name. But when I turn around, I decide it'd be a waste of my time. If the assassin is trained at The Hole Of The Vipers–which I suspect–then he gave up a false name, like I've been doing for so long. I haven't heard my real name being said in quite a while, and I think it's almost something I miss. On the other side, the name 'Elisa' does remind me of my old life, and I don't want to remember anything of it.

Plus, I don't need a name to face the assassin.

The private space behind café is a tiny room, which looks as if it hasn't been properly cleaned up in weeks... maybe months, if I trust the horrible smell. It concludes a single bed; a closet, which has almost been ripped apart entirely, but I can't tell if it was by the barman or vermin; a table; one chair; and clothes spread all over the place. It's a sad place, one that nobody should live in, really. Still, I think the barman does live in here–the man at least sleeps in here. I'm guessing he needs the money the apartments can give him.