Bedlam (V)
The journey to the back gates was uneventful. What you saw there, however, is not.
Dead beasts are piled up before your eyes, their twisted bodies capturing the full agony of their demise. There has to be dozens of them here, which possibly explained just why your chosen route had been so uneventful.
Atop the small hill of corpses sits a pale man carefully wiping blood off his dagger with a handkerchief. He is dressed in a noble’s attire, seemingly unsuited for battle, though what stands out the most about his outfit is the elaborate golden collar around his neck, from which an elaborate insignia of a hanging ram dangles. His hair, long and black, frames his sallow, gaunt cheeks. The sunken little black pits that are his eyes swivel to look at you. His gaze flicks over at Rain, then at Elizabeth.
“What have we here?” His voice is a sharp, sibilant whisper. “Survivors?”
You quietly nod.
“Is that so? Then I suppose our Order would have to take you into custody, and question you, but…” The man sniffs the air, his nostrils flaring. “Inhumans… you stink of them.”
“So do you, sir, and you’re practically sitting right on top of them,” retorts Liz promptly albeit politely.
Being addressed directly by Liz seems to anger the man. His features twist into a sneering scowl. He raises his dagger. Its dark, wavy blade catches the moonlight, and even as untrained as you are, the raw power emanating from it raises your hackles. It has to be an Astra.
“Manners, girl. Speak only when I tell you to speak.”
He swings his dagger casually in her direction, a black, tarlike substance spraying from the blade as he does so. Liz dodges it easily with her newfound agility, lets out an all too confident snicker, and then charges at the man before you can warn her to stop. The man grins, the point of his dagger already awaiting her arrival. He jerks his hand forward swiftly, almost imperceptibly. That is all he needs to skewer her through the chest.
“Bah, just a fledgling bloodsucker,” he spits. By the time he pulls the wicked blade out of her, you have already set Rain down and rushed to Liz’s aid, but your haste earns you nothing more than a boot to the face. You tumble backwards, sprawling to the ground. Another swift kick from the man sends Liz’s body crashing into you before you can get up.
Twirling his dagger lightly, the man approaches you slowly. “Now, I am going to have a lot of questions for you, boy.”
Mist floods in, thick enough that it is almost suffocating. Soon enough, the man disappears from your view even as he lets out an angry snarl, reaching out for you.
“I was just taking a stroll in my favourite city in the entire Tower and what do I spy, hmm? Three children, lost yet again?”
He materializes out of the mist, as if he were always it, and it were always him. That portly, stout figure, dressed to the nines with a top hat almost comical, is something you would never forget.
John Bull looks down at you, grinning so widely that his jowls seem ready to tear apart.
“Hello again,” he says. “In a pickle of a spot, or perhaps a spot of a pickle, hm? Well, that is how boys should be! Rambunctious and adventurous, why, I dare say you remind me just a bit of myself when I was but a mere stripling.”
He twirls his cane, hooks its tip under the collar of Liz’s blood-soaked hospital gown, and lifts her in the air with a single hand. She groans weakly, her head lolling side to side.
“What are you-“ You sit up with a start and try to get Liz back, but John Bull shushes you. You feel the mist wrapping itself around your body, pressing you back down.
“Now now, let us not be hasty, hmmm? I believe that when we last met, we had a most pleasant conversation… and I told you about my most precious Astra. Hm, as always, I am a friend to all children, everywhere and anywhere. This time I extend to you an invitation to a place most wonderful, a place of fun and joy.”
You can feel Rain clinging to your back, hiding from John Bull. “He’s… scary…” she mutters. You glare at John Bull and ask, “Where is that place?”
“Some place wonderful, some place fun,” he repeats jovially. “It is a place that has left no child unsatisfied, if I do say so myself! Oh, our young vampiress here would not survive the night if the knightly orders had their way, too!” He swings Liz around by his cane, dangling her before you, just out of reach. Faced with the insistence of this supernatural entity, you find yourself almost instinctively reaching out for the Hound with your mind, hoping for some way out. But no reply is forthcoming.
“Oh, that old dog is in no position to interfere right now, nor would he be inclined to, really!” John Bull guffaws, seemingly knowledgeable about whatever you’re thinking. “Well then, boy, what will you do?”
***
A. You accept John Bull’s offer to bring the three of you to wherever this safe haven he has promised is.
B. You would rather take your chances with the man, and so you reject John Bull’s offer.
