"Teyoll, my cursed one. I know you hunger..." Nal purrs, drawing the dark scimitar from its sheath. I struggle for breath, the reality of my impending doom suffocating.
He's going to kill me; I'm going to die.
Nalfain gives his blade a few twirls, then draws his attention back to me. "This blade consumes souls, Freya, and I look forward to adding yours to my collection."
"Well fuck you I'm a redhead, I have no soul!" I snap.
Nalfain tilts his head, eyeing Brad in question, but Brad simply waves him off. "I'll explain later—she definitely has a soul."
Nalfain huffs smugly in response, and with that, Brad rises, mood shifting from aroused to somewhat practical, and grim.
"Clean kill, Nalfain, and don't make a mess," Brad instructs.
"Do not tell me what to do!" Nalfain snaps.
Distraction, bargaining? What do I do? It feels as if my lungs are gasping for air as my death rapidly approaches—I must think fast.
"Wait!"
Nalfain throws his head back. "Spare me the begging human; what in the Nine Hells could you possibly have to say now?"
"Let's hear her out," Brad interjects flatly. "Last words and all that."
I nod. "Y-yes, thank you, Brad. Um, so... are you sure you want to kill me? Because I think I have some uses. Could be useful to you and all!" Nalfain exhales a dismissive laugh; Brad says nothing.
"W-well you're always hungry, right, Brad? What if I fed you consistently?! Sort of like having a blood bank for a neighbor?" My voice quivers, betraying my desperation. I glance at him, trying to read any sign of consideration in his stern expression. "I promise I won't say anything!"
Nalfain shifts restlessly and moves to the coffee table, his elegant movements belying his impatience. He sits down, resting his chin on the hilt of his scimitar, while his red eyes fix on me with an unsettling intensity. Chaos and darkness emanate from him, and his controlled posture only reminds me of the age-old phrase, "calm before the storm".
My heart is racing, and the silence that follows is arduous, causing me to bounce my bound legs rapidly. Brad remains unnaturally still for what feels like an eternity, but I swear I could see the cogs turning in his head as he weighs his options. Finally, he sighs, a sound heavy with unspoken thoughts. "Sounds enticing, and I'll admit your blood went down like a fine wine, but the risk just doesn't outweigh the benefit. Besides, I'll be sipping on your blood pretty soon here, and as to a living blood bank—well, that's Nalfain's job."
I don't miss the smirk in Nal's eyes, cheeky little bastard, and suddenly, more hazy memories grace my tired brain, memories that might help my position.
"You say that Brad, but does he not fight you on it? I seem to recall him using me to dodge his apparent obligations on the night you two kidnapped me."
"I'd like to point out he kidnapped you; it wasn't my idea." Brad says defensively.
"Yeah, but you didn't set me free. Anyway, does he dodge his obligations regularly, or am I incorrect here? Because I'd be a far more reliable food source than your little boyfriend here."
Nal only scoffs, and Brad frowns in thought, eyeing Nalfain knowingly as he thinks. My assumption seems right—Nalfain doesn't let him feed regularly. A few seconds pass, and Nal leans to whisper something in Brad's ear. Brad nods in response but appears reluctant, apologetic even for only a moment.
"Freya, I did let you go," Brad responds. "As to Nalfain, he's more than sufficient a meal than you would be on a regular basis."
I give him an incredulous look, but Brad's expression only hardens.
"Whatever, but let's not pretend that you only freed me after you had me for 'breakfast', fucking dick... What kind of Sheriff are you?" I say, and
Brad's exterior cracks ever so slightly, and he averts his gaze briefly as if he's ashamed of himself. Good, he should be.
"This talk is pointless!" Nalfain whines. "She is just stalling, it is clear! We do not need her Bradley, and you know it."
Brad's shoulders droop just a bit, and some hope fills me, but soon it all begins crashing down when he nods. "Fine, I'll move her to the tub. Let's get this over with."
My stomach drops when he lifts me delicately off the couch, his cold body sending shivers down my spine. Some nausea starts to form in my stomach as I consider that very soon, I, too, will be nothing more than a cold corpse unless I can find a way to stop this.
"P-please don't, please!" I whimper, words now no more than downright begging.
"You have nothing to offer, female, and are nothing but liability!" Nal snickers, opening the bathroom door with a flourish.
"But I have tons to offer! I can sing, contribute to the utility bills—you could even keep me here captive! You know I could cook, bake, or clean your house for free! I even have a nice heater!" I babble rapidly, hot tears welling behind my eyes.
"Oh, my Bradley, looks like you're getting dinner and a show, as the humans so say," Nalfain laughs, and Brad sets me down in the tub. I shudder, now unable to stop my tears from falling.
"Don't laugh at her," Brad grimaces. "Try to have some empathy, Nal. She's scared."
Nalfain furrows his brow. "What is empathy, and why am I supposed to have it?"
"Sweet Christ, you're an actual sociopath Nal, you know that?"
"What is a sociopath?"
"For fucks sake, just kill me already!" I sob, throwing my bound hands up. "Just fucking get it over with."
"You need not tell me twice, girl." Nal purrs, squatting down to observe my pathetic display.
"Brad?" I ask, wiping my eyes on my sleeve.
"Yes?"
"The password to my phone is 1918, and the passwords to all my accounts are in the notes. My stuff should all go to my brother Markus, everything in my savings... there's a little hand-written letter in the bedroom side table drawer, made it just in case anything was to happen to me. Make sure he gets it."
Brad nods. "I will make sure it is delivered."
I exhale shakily, mind racing. Thoughts of my Ima fill my mind —would I meet her in the afterlife? Is there even an afterlife? I pour over a few happy memories with Markus and the regret that I never adopted a cat like I'd always wanted. I should've gotten that fat senior cat I saw on PAWS last month, why didn't I? I was gonna put it on a diet and start the de-chonkification process and everything! So much time in my life was wasted slaving away at work, all for it to end like this.
"Bring them to me."
Suddenly that voice again—the one that sounds like crazy grandma. Am I delirious?
"No, dear, you're not delirious."
The voice responds to me. It's as if she's truly speaking to me. Could this be telepathy?
"Freya, bring them to me. I know you thought I was crazy, but I really am a witch. They are hunted, they are afraid, but I can help. Tell them this and attempt to bargain once more. Bargain!"
"I've tried bargaining, though!" I shout aloud in frustration, feeling Nalfain's hand grip my hair.
"Hold still, human, or it will not be a 'clean' blow as Bradley so requests," Nalfain warns.
"I know dear, but it won't be enough. You need my magic, my knowledge of their enemy. I can help the creatures shield themselves with magic. Now bring them to me, granddaughter."
It feels wild to believe anything the voice says, but if it really is crazy grandma and she truly can help me, I'll do it.
"W-wait! Please wait! Brad, please! My grandma is a witch. She can help you!"
Nalfain throws his head back in frustration and hisses. "I swear to the Masked Lord, I will gut her if she attempts to stall again!"
Brad sighs and puts a hand on Nal's shoulder. "Hold up Nal."
"For what?"
"I want to hear what she has to say—just this last thing. Then you can kill her," Brad says. Nalfain groans in frustration like a bored, spoiled teenager. You'd have thought Brad told him he was banned from his PlayStation for a week or something. I watch in relief as Nalfain sets his blade down on the edge of the tub, skulking over to the mirror to fix his stupid perfect hair.
"Now repeat yourself, Freya, what's this about a witch?" Brad asks.
Thank Sky Daddy.
"M-my grandma...she lives like in the middle of the woods, obsessed with being off-grid because she's um, she's a witch."
"So?" Brad's brows knit together skeptically.
"S-she told me, in my mind." I stammer. "She says she can help you, possessing both magic and knowledge of your hunters."
"Nalfain wields magic as well, what can she do that he can't?" He folds his arms and leans against the sink. Brad needs to be convinced; this is going to be tough.
"The Drow's magic differs from mine, for he is no Wizard."
"She says Nalfain isn't a Wizard..."
Brad's brows raise, shooting a questioning look at his Drow companion. Nalfain's eyes dart between us. "I never said I was, Vampire."
"But you insinuated it! Got something to tell me, Nal?"
Nalfain literally hisses at me. "Who told you this?!"
"Uh...m-my grandma? The witch. She's, um, talking to me in my head. She said she knows the enemy that hunts you, and can um, can help provide magic to shield you from them..."
Brad rakes a hand through his hair. "I want to speak with this so-called witch."
"Well, then you're gonna need me alive to take you to her," I respond flatly.
"You cannot be considering this vampire!" Nalfain protests. "She must be lying!"
"As if you weren't lying all along, too? If you're not a wizard, then how the fuck are we supposed to protect ourselves from those people? Your sword and my fangs will not be enough! I am not going to spend the next sixty years being experimented on!" Brad growls, grasping him by the throat. It happens in the blink of an eye, and he slams Nal against the bathroom wall—sharp nails digging into the elf's skin and drawing blood.
"It is not what you think, Vampire!" Nalfain pleads, and I swear that there's a hint of actual fear on his face—I think he's afraid Brad might kill him right now.
Brad's gaze is burning, his blackened voids trained on Nalfain's face. Several moments pass before he sighs, gripping Nal's neck even tighter. Soon the Drow is struggling to breathe and begins uttering what I suspect to be some kind of spell.
"Not this time, Drow," Brad growls, using his free hand to silence Nalfain. "No spoken words, no magic you little lying bastard."
"I told you Freya, they need me. Bring them."
Nalfain's eyes widen in furious protest before going limp.
Brad turns to me and says, "let's take a drive."