In the brothel’s secret room
…there was a sudden crackle of static, and this object that had once been complementing our battle with musical pleasantries cut sharply to a man’s accented voice. I recognized this voice… the mayor of Bourdeaux. Suddenly, the day’s events hit me like a rock to the chest, and every ache and pain came screaming back into my body- my still weak limbs throbbed with fresh bruises, and the young cut along my stomach reminded me of how far I had fallen in just a few short days. Even further than I could have imagined several weeks ago, when I had…
“…with the woman who assassinated my wife, and have been killing innocent civilians in the streets…”
What?! Panic raced through my mind. But we were trying to help those people.. it was that girl.. that thing…
Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted, and feeling watched, I raised my head. Across the room, Vasili, the man with the sticks of fire, stood with his eyes locked on me, seeming to grow ever more suspicious in their stare. I looked away, slipping my still-handcuffed wrists behind my back, as if the evidence might somehow disappear and leave me innocent. As fear raced through my mind, I clamped my mouth shut and bit my lower lip, fearing for once that the words which came from my lips might actually be understandable.