A whining sound carried throughout the small building, followed by the muffled moans of a person. The moans quickly turned into screams, screams of pain and agony. Then, the screams suddenly stopped, and the whining was all that was left.
The killer walked through the hall, not worried in the slightest. He wasn’t the one who had been screaming, nor the one who had caused it. However, he was looking for the person who had caused the screams. And he found him.
He opened the door, and didn’t step in. Inside were two men. One was lying on a table, face down. He had passed out from the pain. The other man stood above the first. He held a small scalpel in one of his hands. It glowed a deep red. Where it had touched the first man, cuts that burns remained.
Nixion stood there, unmoving, watching the scalpel slice open the man’s body. The smell of burning flesh was almost unbearable. It took a whole twenty minutes before the second man straightened, and satisfied that he had finished his work, walked away. He ignored Nixion as he passed him.
“Evening, Gregorivi,”Nixion said, following the man.
The grey haired man showed no sign that he had heard Nixion. He walked into another room, this one empty, and the killer followed.
“Not very nice to ignore your customer,” Nixion said, grinning. Gregorivi turned. Nixion was over a head taller than the man, but was still glared at.
“I told you, no more Strange. That one time was all you were getting.”
Nixion raised a cocky eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? We wouldn’t want any accidents happening if I was insulted, now would we?”
Gregorivi swallowed slightly, but didn’t back down. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said. “This place is the Killing Brook’s territory. If you’re not stupid enough to get them angry.”
“Really?” asked Nixion. “So I suppose you’re important to them, aren’t you?”
The man didn’t give any answer, but Nixion continued anyway.
“So, if I went around killing a couple of people here, a few of which I would guess belong to the Killing Brooks, they wouldn’t harm you? After all, if you’re important, they won’t kill you for something I’ve done.”
Gregorivi’s head lowered. The Killing Brooks were well known for being one of the more violent sorcerer gangs. If anything went wrong and you were even the slightest bit involved, you were a goner.
“What do you want, Strange?”
“That’s easy,” Nixion said. “Your services.”
Nixion sat on the chair. It reminded him of a dentist’s chair. Not that Nixion was ever that well acquainted with dentists, he tended to avoid them if he could.
“So, what was that man here for?” Nixion asked lightly as Gregorivi prepared his tools.
“A symbol, of course.”Gregorivi didn’t even bother to look him. He ran a very special business. Officially, his job was a tattooist. But he was better known for providing a very unique service. Symbols. Any symbol a person wanted, Gregorivi was the man to go to.
“I’ve got to say, I’m surprised the Killing Brooks let just anyone waltz in here and get a symbol. I would have thought that they would have made you more exclusive when you started working for them.”
The man glanced up from his tools. “Just because I work for them doesn’t mean they own me,” he said. “Anyway, I’ve got to make a living somehow. Oh, and that reminds me. I’m doing this under duress, but I still expect to be paid, in full.
Nixion shrugged. Money was no real object for him. When he killed, he would normally snatch some money as well. Only with sorcerers though, otherwise people might think Nixion killed the person just for the money. He had standards.
Gregorivi stood above him, and Nixion was reminded about the screaming man.
“Don’t even think about putting my through any pain,” Nixion snapped. “I don’t want to feel a thing.”
“Fine,” Gregorivi said. “I’ll knock you out before we start. And yes,”he barked before Nixion could start speaking again, “I won’t try any funny business. If I start killing my patients, people will get worried.”
He started cleaning a scalpel, testing it and scrubbing it was a small cloth. “So, why are you here?”he asked. He gestured to the symbol of Nixion’s hand. “That one not work properly?”
The bonebreaker’s fingers brushed the symbol of the back of his right hand, and he smiled. “It worked excellently,” he said. “I’m starting to see how these could come in handy. So I’m going to get a heap of them.”
A book dropped into Nixion’s lap. “Pick what you want then, and tell me where you want them.”
“Does it matter where I have them?” Nixion asked.
Gregorivi muttered something before answering. “Well, if you’re getting a symbol to create a shield, do you want the shield to come from your hand, your arm, or your foot, hm? Where it is matters.”
After Nixion had picked what he had wanted, and told him where they should be, Gregorivi raised his eyebrow. “That’ll take hours, you know. Maybe I won’t finish until tomorrow.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world,” Nixion said, settling into his chair.
“Okay then.” Gregorivi tapped something on the side of the chair, and symbols pulsed. Nixion felt as if he was being pulled into the chair, and before he knew it, he was unconscious.