Nagith Chronicles: Discovery
Chapter One

He groaned, turning onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow.

“Lord Charin, Lord Tensombrek wants to see you immediately.”

He grunted, waving his arm in the direction of the maid’s voice, grumbling into the cushion. What time was it? How much had he drunk? His head would stop spinning soon, he’d go once he could stand up right. That was the last time he partied with the Rasu clan, they had waaaay too much liquor around to not kill their liver in a night. In fact, he was fairly sure his liver had failed; no matter, he had another one…

“Lord Charin-“

“I heard you, now get out, my head is killing me,” he said louder, his voice muffled by the pillow.

He heard the maid sigh and leave, the door closing with a click. The young man groaned, murmuring. His black hair was disheveled and shaggy, his toned arms wrapped around the pillow whilst the rest of his body lay limp, atop the covers. He had barely managed to remove his coat and shoes before plopping onto his bed the night before; his socks were still on and one of his best outfits was now rumpled and smelled of booze. Sluggishly he lifted himself, shaking his head with a groan. Why did Tensombrek always do meetings in the morning? Just because he didn’t need to sleep didn’t mean the rest of them didn’t. Then again, the deity wasn’t exactly known for consideration.

Charin stared at his bed a good minute as he waited for his eyes to focus. Why did he always do this, anyway? He frowned, blinking. That…was a stupid thought, wasn’t it? Yeah, that was dumb. Of course he knew why he did it; fun. Why else? Parties and intoxication, fun, what other reason was there? Why would he even question something that was fun?

“Ugh…still drunk a bit,” he murmured.

Charin rubbed his face a bit and then looked around, taking in his room. Large and opulent, ebon furniture and toxic purples for the rug, curtains and beddings. It seemed surreal sometimes, that it was all his. As a child his entire house had been this size, it seemed a little…too big sometimes. Another silly thought, bigger was always better.

He got to his feet and went to his closet, mumbling as he searched for a presentable outfit to attend Lord Tensombrek’s little meeting. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered, things always went the same. He would work, party too hard, wake up miserable, force himself to get ready and then repeat the process. What was the point of it? Ah…he was being weird again, unimportant, he’d just ignore it. What did Tensombrek want? Was he in trouble? What had he done lately that could irritate him…he would have to think of a good excuse to get out of it, just in case.

He looked to the window the maid opened, letting in the dull gray light. It left a bit of a glare on the glass, tinting it almost, the deep purple curtains casting a strange color on them with their reflection. It was almost beautiful. There wasn’t much he could say that about, really…everything was dark, dull, and gray. The few colors they had only seemed to make the dullness even blander. He wasn’t sure why, but he moved to the window, looking out. The light gray, churning clouds, the black and dusty, jagged horizon, the dark city below the castle, streaked with chilled blues and deep reds, the pale dots that were people moving about the streets.

His eyes shifted focus, instead looking at his own reflection in the glass. A young man in his early twenties, he allowed himself a smirk at his vanity. He was an attractive, strong man, he knew so and he never wasted an opportunity to prove it to women when he had the chance. A defined jaw and sharp eyes, ‘pretty-boy’ he had sometimes been mocked with. They were just jealous they were passed their prime, he thought, it wasn’t his fault the ladies liked him. Charin scanned his face again, smirking, and then he stopped.

He met his own eyes, and his smirk fell. Meeting his own eyes…staring into the dark pits that were his own eyes. It unnerved him. He could never explain why, but looking into his eyes always…bothered him. It was…as if-

“Lord Charin!” a maid called through the door. “Lord Tensombrek demands your presence. Now.”

Charin cursed, turning from the window and beginning to change his clothes.

“All right, all right! I’ll be there in five minutes, geez…”

The young man grumbled as he dressed, slipping his long jacket over his clothes and haphazardly smoothing his hair back as he passed by the maid and down the hall, ignoring her nagging calls after him to make himself more presentable. The hall opened up into a much, much larger corridor. The main halls were that large, large enough for Malochite to walk through in his dragonic form if need be, thus by default was large enough for any other reptilian form to travel through comfortably. Speaking of the stolid giant, he had yet to see him this morning. Usually the silent behemoth would loom over him, following as he made his way to his routine meetings with their master.

It was odd, but there was no sign of him this day. Oh well, he didn’t need to be babysat anymore. He strolled up to the door of one of Tensombrek’s many lounges, stopping briefly to make sure he looked all right. The boss was always quick to anger, sometimes over the most ridiculous of things. Given the way his head was throbbing right now, he didn’t much feel like dealing with that this morning. Once he was satisfied he was presentable, he knocked.

“Lord Tensombrek, it’s Charin.”

“Well enter then.” A voice responded, curt and snappish.

“Oh great,” Charin mumbled to himself with a sigh.

Just what he needed, for him to be in a bad mood.

The man opened the door and entered, his eyes scanning the room quickly before falling onto his master. He looked almost the same as the first time he saw him- well, actually he looked exactly the same. Everyone knew Tensombrek did not age, his appearance never changed unless he saw fit to do so, which was not often. Their deity was quite fond of his appearance, even vain, but of course no one ever had the nerve to say that. So there he was, lounging on a plush red chair with his chin propped up with one arm, one of his feathers stirring a glass of liquor in front of him. Charin caught the quick dart of his master’s eyes and quickly avoided his gaze.

“You wanted to see me, Boss?” he inquired, crossing an arm over his chest and giving a quick bow.

In the next second, Charin quickly had to sidestep to avoid the glass that Tensombrek had thrown at him. The fine glass shattered against the door, staining it with the dark green liquid.

“Charin, remind me, would you? If it’s not too much trouble, why is it I keep you around?” Tensombrek asked, his eyes narrowed on him as his feathers began to twist around, as if apprehensive.

“…Because I’m a dragon, Boss-?”

“To serve me.” The entity snapped. “You may take a dragon form like myself and Malochite, which I specifically designed not to happen. By all reason I should have killed you the instant we found you, your very being is a blatant defiance of my law.”

Charin remained silent, keeping his eyes on Tensombrek’s mouth. If he looked away, his master would be further angered, but to look into his eyes was just as foolish. That was one of the first things he had learned, not to look into the pits of oblivion-

“I keep you alive despite your transgressions to be my servant, to do what I demand of you. As of late you do not seem to grasp this concept.”

“I don’t know what you mean-“

“I told you there was a dispute in the east city two days ago. I gave you very specific orders. What were they, Charin?”

“Kill all of the ones involved.”

“And instead Malochite informs me that you killed one leader, then convinced the other faction to join the others?”

Charin frowned, glancing aside and giving a shrug.

“It worked didn’t it? Besides it’s not like there was any point in killing all of’em, would just be less people to work for you and it would’ve taken way too much time to kill every single one of-“

There was a quick dark flash, like a striking serpent as one of Tensombrek’s feathers lashed out and struck him across the face. The fibers of the feather had sharpened into bladed edges, slicing open Charin’s cheek. The young man winced, bringing a hand up to clutch at the cut as the blue blood seeped through his fingers.

“I ordered you to kill them all!” Tensombrek snapped, on his feet now. “I told you to slit the throats of every last one of them, I told you to kill them! I don’t care if the ‘issue was resolved’, I wanted them dead and you were too lazy to get the job done!”

Charin gritted his teeth a bit but suppressed his urge to yell back at him.

“It wasn’t necessary, Boss, that’s all. I did not mean to undermine your authority.”

The feather struck again, further bloodying his face. Charin choked a bit but quickly bit down on his teeth.

“Then you had the nerve to go out and indulge yourself knowing full well you had ignored my orders.”

The feathers slipped around Charin’s neck, grabbing onto him and hauling him off his feet. He choked a bit, gripping onto them. To his fortune they were no longer sharp, rather sturdy and dull, to his misfortune however that meant they were doing a good job of strangling him. Tensombrek’s eyes were narrowed, looking up at him and his reached forward and roughly grabbed Charin’s face.

“Look at me, boy,” he said in a low, dark hiss.

His heart was pounding violently but he obeyed all the same, meeting his master’s eyes. The young man’s thoughts stopped, his entire being going numb except for the chilling fear drenching into his bones.

“I won’t have you half-assing my orders again,” he said flatly. “Is that clear?”

“Y- Yes,” he managed to say, his voice a hoarse whisper.

The feathers released his neck and he fell to the ground, stumbling on his feet as a result of his lack of air and falling onto all fours, gasping. Some of his cerulean blood dripped from his cheek onto the rug, staining the dark fabric with its bright blue shade. He tried to control his breathing, focusing on inhaling and exhaling. The cuts he ignored, he could tend to them later, they were not deep enough to cause permanent damage…

“You’re restricted to the castle for the next week,” Tensombrek said flatly. “You should be grateful, I am being lenient with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

He left without another word, touching the cut on his face as he headed for the infirmary. The cut already was healing up but there was no point in leaving it open like that after all. Charin frowned to himself, going over the meeting in his mind. Tensombrek was very strict about orders, but they didn’t make sense to him sometimes. He had taken care of the situation, what was the point in killing the rest of them when it was all over with? That and he had never been fond of killing, not in particular.

Something about it was…he wouldn’t say bothersome, but…nagging? He had killed plenty of times since becoming one of Tensombrek’s personal servants. Ever since he had begun to develop into a dragon he had been at Tensombrek’s beck and call, trained by Malochite to do whatever was asked of him. Usually that involved what Tensombrek referred to as simply ‘control’. Disobeying his laws, speaking against him, causing any sort of trouble to his power and wealth…all ended in usually the same punishment. Though usually they were more or less…creative, depending on Tensombrek’s mood.

Charin found it ironic, as he tended to his cut, that as harsh and brutal as his master was in regards to those who caused him trouble he flat out ignored the crimes that happened to his people. You barely had to leave the castle grounds to see a murder, smuggling, theft, brawls and all other assorted things that Tensombrek would punish subjects for, if against anything he happened to favor. He vaguely remembered when he was a child, scuttling around the slums while his mother tended to her ‘clients’ and having to avoid everyone. He didn’t have anything to steal, but it was all too common for children to be snatched up by some adult, ravaged and killed. That was life, if you were fast and strong enough you survived, at least for a while. Anyway you were able to take care of yourself went, so long as you did not cross Tensombrek. Then there was only one rule, he supposed…

He sighed, making his way back down the halls aimlessly. The rest of his week was shot then, if he adhered to his punishment. Then again…well, Tensombrek didn’t have to know if he wasn’t there, right? It was a big place, Tensombrek wouldn’t miss him if it was late and he didn’t go to anywhere he was recognized. Besides, if he just stayed here he’d be more likely to get into trouble, what with boredom and all. So really, he was doing Tensombrek some good. Charin smirked a bit to himself, already planning out the escapade. He’d head to the slums, he hardly ever went to that area- well he had, but usually not in human form. So he could probably get away with it, so long as he was careful. Just don’t drop the name and rank, he told himself. It didn’t matter if he flashed cash though, no one asked questions so long as they were benefitting from it after all. So yeah...besides, he was already punished, not like it could get much worse.

So he snuck out when night was well underway, slipping through the dark corridors and out. It was nearly pitch black, aside from the dim blue lights that cast outlines along the tops of the walls. There wasn’t much else the eye could see, but there wasn’t much during the day either. Mostly he could get around by scent, the scent of the stones and the dust, the scent of the gas the fiery rakyals in their cages gave off, the sounds of their snarls. He reached the wall, shifting his hands into black, scaled paws with dark claws, digging them into the grooves of the bricks. He smirked to himself, climbing up the side of the wall and then dropping down the other, quickly slipping into the nearest alley-way and shifting the dark claws back into pale hands. It was a bit of a pain to travel on two legs instead of running on four, but his reptilian form was too distinct. There were only three dragons, Tensombrek, Malochite and himself. He was trying to keep a low profile, after all, and that would be a dead giveaway. So he traveled through the dark, twisting alleys with nothing but the ambient blue and purple glow breaking the walls from the dark sky.

Soon enough he came across the district he had been searching for, smirking to himself as he slipped out the alley into a somewhat more well-lit street. People were fighting in the street, biting and clawing at each other in their lizard forms while others hooted around them, betting on the victor. Women strut about, advertising their bodies for pay.

“Hey, handsome!” one called to him. “Do you want a date?”

He gave them only a small smirk, scanning the open pubs and clubs. Their bright signs were painted in rakyal blood, glowing neon and stark against the gray walls. Charin located one that looked interesting and slipped in.

The man smirked to himself, the scent of liquor, sweat and cheap perfume wafting through his nostrils. Women danced on several stages, stripping their clothes off for the hooting males. Charin smirked, settling himself down on a vacant chair to enjoy the show.

“Hey, sweet-ass!” he shouted over the noise, smacking a passing waitress on the rear. “Get me your strongest stuff and I’ll leave you a nice tip, m’kay?”

She twitched just a bit, glancing at him over her shoulder with a raised brow. Her dark eyes darted over him quickly, a small smirk twisting her lips.

“All right, all right, just keep your pants on, pretty-boy.”

“Pretty-boy? I deserve at least a ‘handsome’…”

She responded with just a smirk, walking away from him and picking up several empty mugs on her way. Charin watched her go with a brow raised, frowning a bit. Something about her bugged him, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it the way she had looked at him? She had almost looked mad for a moment…how odd, he didn’t know a single woman that would turn down being flattered. It was a small thing, he should’ve forgotten about it but instead he sat there, mulling over the encounter. He couldn’t even enjoy himself, the girls on stage were gorgeous but he found himself unable to focus on them. It was similar, eerily so, to what he had felt earlier that day while looking into the eyes of his reflection, in his window. That unnerving sensation that something looking back at him wasn’t…the same. Wasn’t the same as every other face he saw and every gaze he met-

“If you don’t take the damn glass I’m taking it back already.”

He twitched, coming out of his stupor and looking up at the speaker.

It was her again, holding his drink down in front of him and a tray up in her other hand. Now that he looked at her again, she was very attractive, just as much as the dancers on stage. Why wasn’t she performing, then? Everyone knew the dancers made more money than the servers, usually it was only the unattractive ones that ended up with that job….

“…Why do you keep staring at me?” she snapped a bit, eyes narrowing. “If you want something then say it.”

“I- no, I don’t,” he said, taking his drink from her.

He glanced down into the bright green liquid, his face hazily reflected on its surface from the stage-lights. Charin twitched slightly, meeting his own gaze in the reflection. Why did this keep happening? What about eyes was bothering him like this?

“Hey….are you all right?” he heard her ask.

“Wh- yes, I am,” he said, looking up at her again. “Just tired, probably. Long day and all…what’s your name?”

“Well that came out of nowhere.” She snorted a bit, adjusting how she held the tray, resting it on her hip. “Rachel. Why?”

“Just wondering,” he said quickly, looking back to the stage.

She didn’t say anything more to him, walking away to continue her work while he sat and drank from his glass. Maybe he just needed to stop thinking so much, he had been doing an awful lot of it today, it seemed. Malochite always scolded him for thinking when it wasn’t necessary, it just ended up bugging him anyway. So why did he keep doing it, he wondered? Ah, there he went again…

Charin shook his head and took a deep swig of his glass, closing his eyes and gulping down as much of the burning fluid as he could handle before sitting it back on the table. A haze went over his mind and he gave a sigh of relief, leaning back in his seat to enjoy the show. For a while he felt normal again, throwing tips to the dancers on stage and drinking until he vomited, then drank some more. It was a blast, aside from the splitting headache and churning nausea. At some point he decided that he wouldn’t mind taking one of the girls to a hotel for the remainder of the night. So, with some difficulty, Charin rose from his seat and staggered to the door that led to the back. He threw the bouncer some money and had no further problems with him.

So he made his way back to the dressing rooms, looking for a girl that’d be open to business when some interesting voices met his ears. With a raised brow he moved toward the door, peeking in. It was the waitress, Rachel, standing there with her arms crossed and glaring at the two men grinning at her.

“No.”

“What? Why not, you want more? I can add fifty more obs.”

“I said no. It’s not a matter of money. I’m not selling.”

They laughed, one of them slapping his buddy on the back.

“She says she’s not selling! That’s hilarious!”

“Oh come on, sweet-tits, what do you want, huh? Want some drugs too? C’mon, what do ya want?”

Rachel didn’t crack a smile, eyes steeled on them.

“I said I’m not selling.” She repeated flatly.

Charin rose a brow, something about the situation bugging him even through his drunken state. He’d never heard a woman refuse business; most of them would give it away for free, for the same thrill the men wanted. The ones that charged would sometimes refuse but that was only to get them to jack up the prices. Though he did recall his mother turning down clients she found unattractive, but she was a professional, she could afford to turn them away… So why was she turning them down? They were offering her a lot of money from the looks of it, and they weren’t unattractive, so what reason did she have to turn them down?

“All right, enough play.” One man grabbed her arm, jerking her forward. “Resisting is hot sometimes but we’re not in the mood tonight- WHAT THE HELL!?”

Charin jumped a bit, shaking his head to try to dispel some of the haze from his vision before he realized what had happened. Rachel had struck the man, slashing across his face with her claws. From the sounds of the man’s shrieks it sounded like she had gotten his eyes. Even for their quick healing, getting one’s eyes gouged out wasn’t something that could be healed.

“You bitch!” the other man shouted.

Something was bugging him even more about this situation now, but he couldn’t place it. His head was pounding, geeze, maybe he’d be able to place it if he wasn’t so off his-

“AAGHH!”

He jerked, alarmed at the second screech. She had struck the other one, but not managed to blind him given he turned and grabbed her arm as she tried to slip past. That didn’t make sense, some of them would put on an act of ‘resisting’ in order to get a tip, but they wouldn’t ever cause permanent damage. So that must mean…she really wasn’t selling. She really didn’t want to have sex with them, payment or not. Why…?

“Let go of me! I’ll kill you! Do you hear me, I’ll kill you!” she shrieked, slashing at the man holding her down. “I’ll skin you alive!”

“Hey! Dumbass!”

The one that could see turned to the doorway when Charin knocked the door open, glaring down at him.

“What the hell do you want, you drunk asshole?” the man snapped up at him, blood slipping down his face from where Rachel clawed him.

“Hey I’m not that drunk,” Charin huffed, swaying a bit as he walked in, rubbing his face. “Anyway, get off the chick, would ya?”

“Look if you want a turn with her you can wait-“

He was cut off with a shriek, clutching his throat and falling over onto his side.

“See, that’s what you get when you’re disrespectful,” Charin scoffed down at him.

He shook his hands, the blood splattering off his claws onto the floor as the man bled out on the carpet. Now then, where was the other guy? The blinded one? Where was he? Did-…oh yeah, how could he forget…scent. The man whipped around and to the side, barely dodging the blinded brute’s claws. His teeth were elongated into sharp fangs, the black tongue flicking around like a whip, picking up the scents around him to locate Charin.

“Dammit, I’m too drunk for this shit!”

Charin slipped under the larger man as he attempted to tackle him, letting the man bash his head into the wall before deftly slashing out the back of his neck. The offender dropped like a sack of bricks, Charin flicking the blood off his claws with a mumbled curse.

“Well….that’s done with. So-“he covered his mouth to suppress a gag, his overconsumption threatening to make him vomit. “Ugh- okay, okay I’m good. So…Rachel, right?”

He glanced over at her, the woman staring at him and clutching at her (Probably wounded, he thought) arm.

“So….you come here often?”

Then with another sway, he passed out.

He groaned, the familiar throbbing of a hangover pounding in his head. Why did it seem like half of his entire life was being hungover and the other half was getting drunk? Then again it was probably because it was, nothing much ever changed- wait…he was forgetting something. Something had happened, now what was it…he had gotten into a fight? Yeah he had gotten into a fight and there was a woman, a real babe…also, he remembered killing someone. Shit, had he killed a stripper? He heard that happened a lot, though he’d never done it. Damn it, Malochite’d have his head for that, he was always getting in trouble for killing people without orders. He was fairly sure he killed someone, dammit it was always such a hassle, who had he-?

A splash of cold water smacked him in the face like a brick, Charin shaking his head and sputtering, coughing.

“Oh- geez what the hell-?!”

“You had to sober up.”

He rubbed his eyes, looking through his damp bangs at the speaker. It was a woman- oh yeah, now he remembered. The waitress, Rachel, he had seen her in the back with those two guys and killed them. They weren’t still there, were they?

“Where-?”

“My apartment,” she said, putting the empty pail on her hip. “I brought you here after you passed out and puked all over the dressing room.”

“Oh….uh…what about the two guys? They dead?” he sat up, scanning the room.

“Yes. Also my boss says you’re banned from the club, he doesn’t like people killing his customers.”

“Ah shit, that’s another one.” Charin stretched his arms over his head, yawning loudly. “So uh- oh shit, what time is it?!”

“Midday.” She replied flatly, setting the pail on the floor in the corner with her back to him.

“Midday!? Fu-! Oh screw it,” he sighed, plopping back down on the sofa he had been laying on.

It didn’t matter now, Malochite and the Boss would both know that he had snuck out by now, there was no point in rushing back right now. If he did he’d just get punished again, sure there was no way he was getting out of it now but there was no point in rushing to his fate, right? Instead he glanced around the room, scanning it. It was plain and dusty compared to his room at the castle, even more sparsely decorated. There was the tattered gray sofa he laid on, the dark stone table, another chair, and the rest of the room was taken up by the lauder and stove. There were three doors, two on one side which he assumed led to the bedroom and bathroom, the last one probably was the exit. It wasn’t bad, not much worse off than his mother’s had been when he was a kid.

“You better not steal anything,” Rachel cut in, crossing her arms and glaring down at him. “If you do I’ll slit your throat.”

“Hey, hey…that’s not nice, I killed those two guys that were bugging you, right?”

“Yes…I was wondering about that. In fact I want some answers out of you.”

Before he could begin to wonder, she had sat directly across from him, on the small table. Her eyes were narrowed on him intently, much like Tensombrek would look at him when he was about to get yelled at. For a moment or two they just stared at each other before she finally spoke.

“Why did you kill them?”

“Huh?” he blinked. “Why? I thought you didn’t want them to-“

“I know that, but why? They weren’t bothering you, you had nothing to do with any of it.” She interrupted curtly, scanning him. “You had nothing to gain from stopping them. So why did you?”

“Because….they were bothering you,” he said, shrugging.

“Were you thinking if you killed them you’d impress me, and I’d sell to you?” she demanded.

“What-? No-“

“You thought I’d throw myself at you for free? Or give you some other reward?”

“No!” he shook his head, frustrated. “I- I didn’t have a reason, okay? I just saw you attacking them and-…actually, maybe I did have a reason.”

Rachel huffed, crossing her arms and eying him intently.

“Well then, what was it? Hm?”

He frowned, thinking quietly to himself for a moment or so. Seeing her attack them, refuse them in the club….

“Why did you reject them?” he asked. “Maybe that’s why I stopped them, because I wanted to ask you. Why did you tell them no? Why didn’t you sell? They had a lot of money they were offering. You could’ve gotten laid and paid, so why did you say no? Hell, you even went through all the hassle of attacking them. I’ve never, ever seen anyone reject sex, especially if they were being paid.”

She stared at him just a second before her expression turned cold again, letting out an irritated huff.

“Because I didn’t want to. That’s all.”

Charin tried to wrap his head around it, it didn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t she want to? All of them craved that kind of thrill, needed whatever kind of high they could possibly get. Through whatever means possible, sex, drink, food, violence…whatever could preoccupy them, whatever could stop- just for a moment- that irritating, corroding, nagging void in the pit of their- Charin cut himself off, reprimanding himself. It was dangerous to think about the void inside them, thinking about it made them more aware of it, made it stronger. People who became too aware of the void because they couldn’t fill it enough always succumbed to insanity…he himself had put down a number of them. The ones who didn’t get what they needed, who went too long without the pleasures of lust, gluttony or rage, they always went insane and ran about the streets. It was one of his responsibilities as a Lestuk, one of Tensombrek’s dragons, to kill those people. Tensombrek didn’t like them running around, he found them irritating.

So why would Rachel turn it down? She would’ve filled the void a bit from the pleasure, and used the money to buy other things for herself. What did she have to lose? It didn’t make sense. The confusion must have been obvious by his expression, because she spoke again.

“I do sell sometimes, when I need money.” She frowned bit, her brow furrowed. “But when I don’t need to I just- I just don’t. I don’t….like it- well I mean, I like it, sometimes, with an attractive one, but I don’t like…selling. It’s just...it…bothers me. Ah, nevermind, you couldn’t understand.”

No. No he did. He stared at her, twitching a bit at the realization that bloomed in his mind. He did understand, it was like earlier, when he had been scolded for not killing. Like Rachel, he did it when he needed to, but when it was unnecessary he chose not to. Why? Those things were...they were things that filled the void, that granted pleasure, so why would they not want to do it?

“No- No I do understand,” he said, frowning.

She rose a brow, skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

He explained to her what he had been thinking, about how he didn’t really like killing but did when he thought he had to.

“I always thought I was the only one that just…didn’t want to do that. I used to bring it up to people before, when I was younger, but they just told me to shut up, you know? I thought I was just being weird.”

The skepticism on Rachel’s fair face slowly waned, tilting her head to the side and eying the man on her couch.

“Me too…” she muttered.

“Really?” Charin stared at her, his eyes widened.

“You should leave,” she cut in abruptly, biting her lip. “Like- right now. You should go.”

“What? Why? I want to talk to you! I didn’t think anyone else-“

He stood up, reaching for her arm and she drew back, her eyes narrowing on him.

“I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to hear anything from you anymore. Now that you’ve gone and sobered up you need to go.”

She walked to her door, opening it and gesturing to it with a wave of her hand. Charin frowned, biting his lip.

“Why don’t you want to talk about it?”

“Because I don’t. It’s- you’re strange and I don’t like it. So leave. I don’t want to deal with you.”

“Well I’ve heard ‘strange’ before, sure,” he shrugged, eying her. “But come on you have to be at least a little curious.”

“No. Get out.”

Charin eyed her and was tempted to pursue the subject, however, the look she gave him made him hesitate. Maybe she was right, he thought, maybe he should leave. It was quite possible he was just thinking too much into this, or maybe that thinking about it at all was just asking for trouble. So with a defeated sighed he headed for the door, hesitating just a moment in the doorway. In another moment he would probably have spoken up again, except Rachel spoke instead.

“You’re not bad looking,” she said suddenly. “I’ll do business with you, sometimes, if you come around again.”

He blinked, looking over his shoulder at her.

“What? I thought you wanted me to go away-?”

She scowled, crossing her arms and glaring at him. The slightest, palest tint of blue on her cheeks, like a flush.

“I saw the way you threw money around, I know you’re wealthy. I told you I do that kind of work on occasion, if I need the money. I don’t need it right now, but I wouldn’t mind some extra cash if it was from you. You’re attractive and strong, insane, but at least physically I wouldn’t mind you for a client. So you’ll just have to come back again sometime.”

Charin rose a brow, staring at her then slowly smirked.

“I see…I guess I will then.”