Thais Hostel III: The Black Chariot

[Midnight Slayer]

Previous entries in the series:

Thais Hostel: The Murder of Annie White
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Thais Hostel II: Owin's Revenge

viewtopic.php?t=5611&sid=90095f9f2fa5cf ... dbca4db275



Thais Hostel III: The Black Chariot
By Master Slayer / Midnight Slayer

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Atop the gloomy mountains in the decaying castle of Vengoth, a writer punctures his finger with the tip of his feather pen and signs his completed script in his own blood.

He grins to himself.

“Magnificent”, he claims, with a gleam in his eyes.

As he reviews his script, he imagines the play being performed in his mind repeatedly and becomes fascinated the further his imagination takes him until he is interrupted.

Melvala enters the study.

Melvala: Writing again, my love?

His queen, his undying love, Melvala; she is a breathtaking sight. She strolls into his private study, swaying her elegant dress and swirling her drink as she approaches him. He rolls the script in his hand while smiling and stands to greet her. He then holds out his other hand offering her to come close. Melvala places her glass down on his writing table. As she places her hand in his, he pulls her intimately closer. He smiles as he raises her hand and twirls her around. They share a graceful dance together in the haunting study of Vengoth’s castle while the moans and cries of the undead can be heard from the other rooms.

He then holds Melvala in his arms and performatively leans her back staring into her eyes.

Melvala: Darling, I saw it in your hand. Won’t you tell me?

He slowly stands her upright while continuously looking deep into her eyes. He slowly inches toward her as if to kiss her, then moves to her ear and whispers,

Marziel: A Dance with Death.

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23:58.

Two weeks later: The night after Owin’s gruesome attack.

An elegant black chariot pulled by a phantom tempest comes to a halt outside the Thais Hostel.

Marziel opens the chariot door and steps out onto the Thais streets. He runs his hand through his long black hair pushing it away from his pale face. He gently runs his tongue across his clean white fangs and finds the taste displeasing. Reaching into his exquisite red robe, he pulls a black flask with a skull top from one of his many hidden pockets. The weight of the flask feels light, nearly empty. He reserves the remaining liquid and returns it to his robe without taking a sip.

Behind his ear, he reaches for his smoke; A high potency offspring of a blood herb sprinkled with demon dust rolled delicately with a thin cut parchment. As he places it to his lips, a young lady in a beautiful long dress approaches him.

Eleonore Silverhand: Need a light?

As Marziel turns his head, they lock eyes and both grin.

Marziel: Quite dangerous to roam the streets of Thais at night, is it not?

Elenore Silverhand: Not when your father represents the King.

They both smile. Elenore reaches into her small satchel purse and reveals a small matchbox. As she strikes the match, Marziel notices the gorgeous ring on her finger. Marizel leans forward and meets the flame with the tip of his cigar. As he leans back, he takes a deep inhale and lets the fire hot demon dust from the rolled blood herb scorch the insides of his cold dead lungs. As he exhales the smoke, his eyes become a horrifying dark red, and his black pupils expand. Elenore does not fear the sight of his eyes, but instead is rather intrigued by them. She keeps these thoughts to herself.

Marziel: Are you married, my dear?

Elenore Silverhand: I haven’t had the chance to ask your name and you want to know if I am married? My my! You are quick to move in for the kill, I’d say!

Elenore laughs and smiles, but slowly stops when she realizes Marziel is not laughing with her.

Marziel: Forgive me my dear, I am Marziel. Author, playwright, and humble citizen of Carlin. And you are?

In excitement, Elenore brushes off his question without revealing her name.

Elenore Silverhand: Marziel?! Ah! You wrote the play that will be performed tonight at the theatre!

Marziel takes another long drag from his smoke.

Marziel: Indeed, I am. By the look of your wonderful dress, I am sure you will be attending, yes?

Elenore Silverhand: Yes! I sailed from Liberty Bay to meet with my friend here at the Thais Hostel. We plan on attending the event together.

Marziel: Ah, and who is your friend?

Elenore Silverhand: Her name is Annie White.

Marziel: Why don’t we enter the Hostel together and you can introduce me to your friend?

Elenore Silverhand: I would love that!

Marziel flicks his rolled cigar to the ground and looks over to his chaperone for tonight’s event. Sitting atop the phantom steed, a mysterious figure in a robe awaits Marziel’s orders. His hands, face, and feet cannot be seen.

Marziel: Wait here.

The mysterious robed charioteer nods, then looks forward and waits patiently.

Marziel: Shall we?

Marziel holds out his hand. Elenore places her hand in his. As they begin walking, Marziel directs her toward the side of the Hostel away from the entrance.

Elenore Silverhand: Oh! Is this the side entrance for special guests?

Marziel: Precisely, my dear. We have met merely moments ago and you know me so well. I am impressed.

Elenore sees Marziel as a tall, dark, handsome, successful man. The brief talk about marriage has her now in a flirtatious mood as they stroll down the dark alleyway to the backside of the Hostel. Marziel abruptly turns around and faces Elenore.

Elenore Silverhand: Hmmm, there isn’t a side entrance, is there?

Marziel stands still and silent.

Elenore Silverhand: You wanted me alone so you could kiss me, isn’t that right?

Marziel grins and nods his head yes.

Elenore begins to blush. She takes one step closer to him, leans in and looks into his eyes.

Elenore Silverhand: Kiss me then.

She puckers her lips and closes her eyes waiting for him. Marziel slowly and carefully reaches into his robe and pulls a steel blade with a black skull handle.

Marziel: As you wish.

He brutally slams the dagger through the side of Elenore’s neck. The force from the penetrating blade splashes the side of the Hostel wall with blood as Elenore’s eyes open wide from the shock. As she drops to her knees, so does Marziel to remain in eye contact with her. Perched down, now staring directly at Elenore, Marziel places his hand on the top of her head to hold her still, then viciously rips the dagger from her neck. The look of terror and betrayal on her face is sickening. Her eyelids slowly close as she slumps down unconscious. Marziel wipes off the blood from the blade on her dress then places the dagger back in his robe and swaps it for his flask. Marziel then gently tilts Elenore’s head to the side and drains the blood from her neck into his skull top container. Before standing, he removes the ring from her finger and places it into one of his many pockets.

He stands, looking over his victim momentarily, then leaves the alleyway.

Now, standing before the Hostel doors, he takes a drink from his flask, indulging in the blood of his latest victim as if tasting a fine wine. He stashes the flask back in his robe before finally entering the Hostel.

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00:04

A cloaked figure comes strolling down the back alleyway of the Hostel. His silhouette resembles a shadow shifting in shape as he moves, blending with the darkness around him. With each few steps, he flips a coin in his hand. On one side of the coin, Zathroth. The other side, Banor.

Another flip of the coin sends it to the air. As it spins and flips, the cloaked man uncovers what appears to be a slain woman on the ground a few steps ahead of him. While the coin was still falling, Drarice Blackheart was already kneeled down by her side.

The coin lands to the ground, Banor side up.

He places his hand to her neck to stop the bleeding and, to his surprise, he can feel a faint pulse.

Elenore can only see black while unconscious in this dream state. Darkness has consumed her entire existence. Dreadful suffering and deathly sorrow begin to drain away her thoughts and feelings as her soul is slowly escaping her core.

She is seconds away from certain death.

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-MS-

[Valkera]

I knew he hadn’t fully abandoned Zathroth…

Clap this false confessor in irons and bring him to the troll pit for penance!

[Dama Blackheart]

Thirsting for more!

[Drarice]

I knew he hadn’t fully abandoned Zathroth…

Clap this false confessor in irons and bring him to the troll pit for penance!

You know nothing, Valkera Snow!

MS,
Once again, thanks for a wonderful story. Give me more more more!!!

[Alanui]

I loved it! MS you are amazing! <3

[Midnight Slayer]

Thank you all for the support! Love to see your enthusiasm! <3

I can assure you there is more to this story.

I will need a little time :)

-MS-