24 – Ritual Cleanup

As they walked, Mia repeated what she’d seen. Since she was an eye-witness to both the ritual site in addition the traitor attack and subsequent interrogations, it was a lot.

Aside from asking clarifying questions, the captain didn’t say anything audibly. All three of the visitors looked her over as if expecting to reveal a true, demonic form or something below the surface though.

Despite their outward silence, the group was chattering quite a lot. I also saw them take note of the non-standard modifications to the manor. Covered windows, dim lanterns and the like.

It only took a few minutes at most to reach the door leading out towards the tower.

“If you don’t mind, I will remain here. Aside from avoiding the bright outside, I’d also rather not revisit that unfortunate place. Plus, if I stay here, I can’t interfere with your investigation. Not that I would of course, but just in case.”

The captain studied me. “I don’t think so. You’re coming with us.” His declaration was met with a sigh escaping my mouth.

“Fine, but I’m staying in the stairway. I’m not stepping a foot into that room. Mia, where is my parasol?”

Another minute later, Mia returned carrying the sun protection. With another sigh, I followed after Lars, who in turn was behind the group of three.

Inside the tower’s stairwell was the perfect location for an ambush, so both Mia and Lars were growing increasingly stressed. The two extra guards following at the end were also not having the best time. Especially since the remaining ten had to remain behind. They would be more of a hindrance than help in these tight confines.

Somehow, I was ice-calm. Did my anxiety overflow and return me to perfect focus? Or maybe my new body handles dangerous situations better than a human. Who knows? Anyway, I was more relaxed than before the doors to the entrance hall had opened earlier.

It felt almost detached. Like an out-of-body experience. I was even having a little mental ‘conversation’ with a few nearby rats. The little cuties were worried about me, but I impressed on them not to enter the tower under any circumstances.

Humans could be cleansed of surface-level corruption by a priest, but how would I manage to convince Tristan to treat a bunch of rats? I wasn’t confident my pendant would be able to do it either.

No reason to make my little helpers more of a target for the demon hunters than they already were.

Especially since at least one of them could apparently smell demonic corruption.

The tower was rather wide for its height. A staircase spiraled along the inside, hugging the wall. Three floors sat above the ground floor. The first floor was a meeting or dining room that Kalin had made infrequent use of.

Above that was Kalin’s usual bedroom, filled with whatever extravagance he could get a hold of with his – by noble standards – comparatively limited resources.

Topping off the tower at the third floor was the former study, now turned scene from a horror story. Put simply, the site of the ritual.

After making note of the knife and two pairs of tongs lying in the corner of the barren ground floor and hearing Mia’s explanation, the captain led his companions up the stairs. His glare made me follow after them. Entirely unfitting for the situation, I almost felt like chuckling. This really was all completely unimaginable for the me of a few days ago.

If someone had told me I’d be at risk of dying by demon hunter, I’d have assumed they were either crazy or talking about some game. Maybe both.

The first floor only got a cursory glance through the door. Aside from the rather large rack of wine bottles, there wasn’t anything interesting there. A table and some chairs. Some extinguished lamps.

Several people in this line snaking up the stairs carried oil lanterns. Unlike the guards behind me, the demon hunters had the flames in theirs turned up to maximum brightness. Easily illuminating the surroundings and making it painful to look in their direction all at once.

Once they reached the second floor landing, the leading captain made his followers stop. I couldn’t see very well, both due to lighting and the curve of the stairs. But it quickly became clear the three hunters had entered the bedroom.

Carefully advancing up behind Lars, I glanced inside.

That’s when I realized that the study’s furniture had to have gone somewhere, since that room was emptied out for the ritual.

In the middle of the bedroom floor, blocking most of the free space in front of the bed, stood a large desk and a plush chair. Several decidedly less fancy chairs were stacked in a corner. The desk was a heavy affair, with a closed back and two sets of sliding drawers to the sides of the front. I couldn’t recall how it got down here.

The captain was observing with crossed arms while his two underlings were going through the various drawers and cupboards.

I knew there wasn’t anything incriminating here. Kalin didn’t keep a diary. The books here were all either entertainment or speculative purchases that might have contained possible treatments. Neither had been touched in over a year, as evidenced by a previously unbroken sheet of dust.

Kalin rarely allowed cleaning staff into his personal quarters. Not like the maids really wanted to come here in the first place.

When the woman going through the desk found a stack of letters and began leafing through them, I remembered something.

“There is a hidden compartment in the underside of the desk’s top. You need to push up and back against the wood from below. There’s a bunch of correspondence from my family there. In case you want to read that as well, while you’re going through my personal documents.”

After a long, assessing look at me, the woman followed my instructions and pulled her hand back out with a dozen more letters.

Just like the rest of the stuff in this room, these were of low importance. Obviously, Kalin’s desk only contained letters addressed to him from the family, not what he’d sent. And said letters were almost exclusively drivel. Empty greetings and niceties. And a bunch of rejections of whatever he’d requested in his own letters.

All very polite. Of course. But with the clear message of ‘Screw off, you should be happy you even get what you already have’. Over the years, Kalin had sent a lot of very ‘nice’ letters to the family. Two years or so ago, they’d started to just ignore them instead of answering at all. Which obviously pissed him off more, so he sent more letters.

For a short period of time, there had been an average of two letters sent per week. Fortunately for my sanity, Kalin had eventually realized just how fruitless this endeavor was and stopped all contact with the family instead. Also, he’d been incredibly drunk for most of that time, so I had few memories of the incoherent rage he’d penned.

It didn’t take very long for the demon hunter woman to reach the same conclusion about the ‘value’ of her stack of letters. Namely the complete lack of any.

With an annoyed glare, she tossed them aside.

After thoroughly dismantling most of the furniture, the group moved on. Lars and I stepped back to give them space.

Time for the big one.

Whenever I caught a glimpse of the woman’s face as we ascended the last few steps, her nose was twitching and wrinkled in disgust.

The door at the top of the stairs was already open. Even a no doubt hardened group like this paused in the doorway.

Each of them grasped a badge similar to the captain’s tight in one hand. Then, with deliberate, careful steps they spread out along the room’s rim.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

As I stepped up to the door myself, I realized Tristan had been completely correct.

All the bodies strewn about were withered and empty. The ritual circle’s center was still spotless. But along the inner border, a nearly shin-height ‘wall’ of blood stood. It looked like it was magnetically attracted to the middle, but kept out by an invisible barrier. This encirclement wasn’t very thick, only around a hand’s breadth at the top and increasing where it spilled outwards across the floor.

It also didn’t really ‘stand’, on closer inspection. The still completely liquid blood was slowly swirling around clockwise. Like it was waiting for something.

Mel, did you screw up the ritual? I really didn’t put it past the incompetent minor demon.

All that blood would have been incredibly helpful to get started. If I had it, I wouldn’t have been nearly as hungry the day before yesterday. I probably could’ve strengthened myself continually all the way from waking up till now. Also, my mishap with Mia would’ve never happened.

The girl was staring, slack-jawed, at the scene. Her skin was paling, revealing a faint green sheen below. Understandable. I myself was also pretty dumbfounded, though for vastly different reasons than everyone else here.

What a waste! Mel, you idiot! Just wait till I get my hands on you…