Back in his cell, Abe leaned against the wall, face down. It seemed he needed to further prove himself until he was gifted a room in the manor.

Stomping into the kennels, Elissa sighed deeply and snorted, “Flegling!”

Slowly, Abe rose, his careful gaze cast on Elissa.

“You’re with me,” she growled, noticeably more irritable than she usually was. 

Banging the key into the lock she released it and flung the gate open, “Out!”

Abe nodded and obeyed, “What’s happening?”

“For some reason, she decided to put you with me,” she snarled, shaking her head as she led him from the Kennels.

To the left of the central atrium, several doors lined a corridor. Elissa showed him to the second on their left.

Creaking open, they entered a dusty, old storage room filled with racks of medieval-looking weapons, and armor sets hung over cross-stands.

“Pick something,” she spat, marching over to a knife that she stuffed down the back of her pants. “Something discrete.”

The thought of using a medieval weapon was still brutish, but if he was going to be forced to do something like the sewers again, he would rather do it with iron than with rocks and broken bones.

The knife Elissa picked seemed practical, and he scanned for something small.

A silver stiletto sat atop a rack, its point like a needle.

That’s it.

Gently, he took the weapon and softly pressed a finger against its pointed edge—a dot of thick, bubbling ichor formed.

“Pretty weapon for a pretty boy, huh?” Elissa said with a shake of her head. “Killing ain’t pretty though,” she added with a head gesture and left the room.

Muttering low grunts, she led him through the marble rooms, lined by columns, and out through the main doors and into the white surroundings as snowfall pelted down against the old gothic mansion colored in whites, grays, and blacks.

“You don’t still feel the cold, do you, fledgling?” She snickered as they stepped outside, her curled lips flattening and brow downcast when Abe shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Keep up,” she sneered, swinging back around and crunching through the snow.

Abe’s narrowed his eyes, trying to peer through the snow as he scanned the horizon. 

His memories were mostly gone, but he knew wherever this was, it was far from where he had been.

It seemed to be a valley, the distance silhouette of mountains lining the horizon—though they were barely visible through the snow. Below, lights were scattered, dulled by the snow. Perhaps a small, scattered town, or web of rural communities, Abe figured.

“What are we even doing?” Abe said, still trying to piece his surroundings together as he followed her.

“Something is going on down there, and the Mistress doesn’t like it when others interfere with her domain.”

“Down there, you mean where the lights are?”

“What do you think, genius? 

“Where is this, where are we?”

Reaching a huge, arching metal gate, Elissa waved to a beat-down old gatehouse beside it. A moment later a figure in dark navies sauntered out with a jagged gait. 

Two orange dots glowed on his shadowy visage.

“He’s a,” Abe pointed.

“Newborn?” Elissa perked. “He’s been pacified. No use wasting good talent on a job like this,” she added as he unlocked and removed the chains from the gate, then proceeded to slowly drag one side open.

“Are there people down there? Don’t they notice?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” she snickered and walked through the opening.

Beside the three-meter tall stone wall that surrounded the manor was a small parking lot with eight spots, most of which were covered in snow. Save one, a cleared bay with an old Lada classic blanketed under an inch of snow.

Humming to life as Elissa turned the ignition, they waited as the windows heated and the wipers battled to remove ice.

“Didn’t expect this,” Abe said, eyeing the clean interior.

“When we get to town, keep your mouth shut.”

Abe nodded and turned to the melting sheets falling away from the window.

“This should be quick. We deal with the interference and return,” she said, grinding the car into gear. Pittering for a moment it jerked forward, churning and cranking as she forced it into second.

“Do you know how to drive this thing?”

“Shut up!” Elissa snapped as they lurched down the steep road heading into town.

 

The drive wasn’t far. Only a few minutes down the road, they were already passing farmhouses, barns, and other dilapidated timber buildings on the outskirts of town.

Abe had expected the dirt drive of the manor to be replaced by tarmac as they left behind the snow-covered hedges that bordered the manor’s extensive gardens and got closer to town, but it never did.

Crossing a bridge—scattered farmhouses gave way, replaced by uniform rows of homes and apartments, separated by seemingly random empty plots scattered by debris and covered in snow.

The dirt road, with mounds of snow piled up along its sides, continued down and into town. On their way in, they passed an old, rusted tractor beside a barely standing shack, billowing smoke.

The handful of people they passed looked depressive and rugged up—coats hanging down by their heels and scarves around their heads. Dirty faces with dark sunken eyes peered out, scorn etched into their expressions.

“Depressing,” he mouthed as they passed another hunched-over old woman.

“Welcome Strigov,” Elissa said, rolling her r and grinning as discomfort twisted Abe’s expression.

A dog barked as they turned down an alley, its fur scruffy and mangled, ribs outlined against taut flesh.

Beside the road, a truck leaned against the left curb, chickens squawking in its timber-paneled tray as the small car squeezed through the tight alley, jostling as it clipped the opposite curb.

The tires slipped as it struggled up a small incline, but it managed to put its way up, parking at the end of the alley.

“I’m not sure we’re getting home in this thing,” Abe said as he reached for the door handle.

“Already calling it home, how quaint,” Elissa grinned as she exited.

Abe grunted at the remark. The part of him that wanted to refute it seemed to grow weaker with every minute. It was growing harder and harder to hold onto a past he couldn’t remember.

“Remember, I do the talking,” Elissa said as they turned toward what looked like an old corner shore, though the windows were boarded up now.

A bell chimed and something scurried in the dark as they entered.

“You’re not scared of rats, are you?”

Abe did a gesture as if zipping his lips as she turned her scowled glare at him.

Knocking twice, Elissa pushed the creaky, old door open. Several small, unseen animals scattered into the debris of old, broken furniture and rubbish that lined most of the room.

Only empty cans and boxes scattered the shelves—and a dusty counter strewn in webs sat at the far end.

“I think he’s gone out of business,” Abe said.

Ignoring him, Elissa pressed through the store toward a door beside the counter. 

Shrugging Abe followed.

“Here you are,” Elissa said, entering the storeroom—making dozens of rats scuttle away from the scrap-laden cans scattered across the ground.

At the far corner of the room, spread over a stained, sunken bed, and curled up under a frayed woolen blanket—was a dirty, bearded man. An old CRT TV flickered atop a crate, and beside the man was several open crates—packing straw flayed about the place, with one crate still about half full of the same cans that littered the ground around his bed.

“It’s you,” the man wheezed.

“Emil, the Mistress wants to know what’s going on in this shithole,” Elissa said, stepping further into the room as Abe entered behind her, his face scrunching up in disgust.

“Does she care?”

“Looks like you’re running low on cans,” Elissa said, kicking an empty one beside her and sending several cockroaches fleeing as it rolled.

“She can control the tethers now, can she?” Emil sneered sarcastically, springs squeaking as he rolled on the bed—its rusty frame struggling against his weight.

“There’s more than one way to get a few cans into Strigov, Emil.”

Turning his dark, baggy eyes on Elissa, Emil growled low. 

“So, what do you have to tell me?”

Emil’s purple lips curled upward to reveal a line of yellow teeth, “The elders are keeping secrets. They won’t even let me into the town hall anymore. To them, I’m just another one of her pets.”

Elissa’s eyes widened, and she tilted her head.

“There’s an outsider in town. Wears white robes. Those idiots try to keep him out of sight, but I saw him,” Emil’s grin curled higher as he nodded. “Beneath the town hall, if I was a betting man, that’s where I’d go. Something is happening down there.”

“Those maggots,” Elissa grunted and turned for the door.

“An outsider?” Abe raised a brow, glancing over at Emil and grimacing as he smiled back, then turning to follow Elissa.

“What’s going on?” Abe said, taking long strides to catch up with her as she returned to the Lada.

“Shut up and follow,” Elissa said, slamming her door.

 

Rolling into the center of town, they approached the snow-capped town hall that looked more like a large barn than a government building.

An old man with weary eyes and folded skin stood at the stairs of the door, huddled under a thick coat with his arms crossed.

Pulling up a few feet from the entrance, Elissa left the car in the street and bounded out in a huff.

“Greetings,” the man nodded.

“Save it,” Elissa sneered, marching past him.

The man extended a hand to block the door, but as Elissa's gaze turned to him, he lowered it.

He raised his arm again as Abe followed but lowered it before Abe even reached the door.

Inside the parlor, plastic chairs were folded and stacked into piles, with woolen blankets piled atop a couple of tables.

From behind a reception, a middle-aged woman rose, her curly gray hair tied behind a scarf, “Can I help you?”

“The cellars, where are they?”

“Cellars?” She turned her head and furrowed her brows.

“I’ll rip your lungs out, old lady!” Elissa spat as she investigated the building.

“One moment,” she said. “I’ll call for the chairman. It’s only a short walk over for him.”

“Did I ask you that? Cellar, now!”

The lady's hands began to tremble.

Sniffing as she circled the building, Elissa suddenly halted, lurching her head to the left.

“There.”

Abe sniffed. 

I don’t smell a thing. Could her senses be even stronger than mine? Is this what it means to descend into a monster?

“No,” the woman frantically waved as Elissa headed for a maroon curtain at the far end of the parlor. “No one’s allowed back there.”

Throwing the curtains aside, she sniffed again and marched forward.

“Thought you could hide from me?” she said, swiping at the ribbed timber wall. The hollow wall shattered against Elissa’s claws, revealing a trap door behind it.

An earthy, sap-like scent touched Abe’s nostrils. It was faint—used to mask.

“No, please, you mustn’t,” the women begged, chasing after them.

Elissa glared at her, and she halted, gripping at the cloth of her chest as she trembled.

“Come on,” Elissa sneered, ripping the hatch open and jumping down into the dark beyond.