Path of the Demonic Villain

A small city far northwest of Ravena...

Sylveria to be precise.

——

The bells from the Saint Maria’s Cathedral of Night not too far away chimed four times, echoing through the district to signify the coming of night.

When this happened, a young woman in her mid-twenties turned her pale green eyes toward that direction. Honestly, she wasn’t strikingly glamorous, but there was an arresting elegance to her high cheekbones and quiet presence, even if she did look somewhat exhausted.

She had fair skin with faint freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and dark auburn hair that appeared piecey and slightly disheveled.

At the end of the fourth bell, she sighed and unlocked the door to her rented flat, stepping inside out of the evening chill and shutting the world out behind her.

However, just then, her heart sank as she noticed that her small living room was in a messy state, and her few decorative teacups lay shattered near the hearth.

Her eyes widened as she saw that there were unwelcome visitors who had been comfortably waiting for her. One of the men sat comfortably in her worn velvet armchair, resting his muddy boots on her tea table while smoking a thick cigar. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a scar that ran from his right cheek across his lip.

Not far from him, the woman’s younger sister was huddled on a wooden stool in the corner. Beside the girl, a second, larger man stood, resting a leather-gloved hand on her shoulder to keep her pinned in place.

When the young brown-eyed girl saw her sister walk through the door, her eyes flared with panic, and she cried out:

"Sister! These vagabonds... they just forced their way in!"

Upon hearing that, the woman gritted her teeth. "You bastards! What the fuck are you doing here?" Her pale green eyes snapped to the brute standing over her sister and she immediately crossed the distance, then leaned over threateningly. "You. Take your hand off her this instant before I tear it off."

At that moment, the man sitting in her armchair slowly exhaled a thick plume of gray smoke toward the ceiling, then turned his lazy gaze toward her.

"Easy there, Vivia," he began in an unbothered tone. "I don’t know why you’re always so hotheaded, but it gets exhausting. By the way, stop acting like you don’t know why we’re here. Or have you forgotten our agreement? You were supposed to hand over five crowns yesterday for this week, yet you did not."

"It was just one day!" she snapped, and her jaw was tight as she fought to keep her composure. "I got busy trying to fence a few valuables so I could raise enough money. I was actually planning to come tomorrow to pay off the full fifteen hundred crowns! You didn’t need to break in here and intimidate my sister!"

"Oh?" Hearing that, the man arched a brow, and a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. "The full fifteen hundred crowns? You raised that kind of cash overnight?"

He had barely finished speaking when she reached into her coat and pulled out thick stacks of gold-paper notes.

"Here it is," she spat, tossing the bundles onto the small table right next to his boots. "Take it and get the hell out of my flat. And tell Victor I don’t ever want to see any of your ugly faces around here again."

"Ugly faces?" The man smiled as he gestured for his companion. "You wound me, Vivia."

The other man came over, picked up the money, and flipped through the stack. As he counted them, he held some of the gold notes up toward the gaslamp, snapping the papers between his fingers to check the sound before giving a quiet nod.

Once the confirmation was made, the man with the scarred face swung his boots off the table and stood up. He smoothed the front of his coat, picked up his hat, and cast a long, calculating look at her.

Then, he smiled and said, "It’s always a surprise when a stubborn debtor actually clears her tab. Consider the debt settled." He gave a mock bow before stepping past her toward the doorway. "If you ever find yourself needing to ruin your life again, you know where to find us. We’re always open for business and we offer very generous rates for recurring clients."

"I’d rather shoot myself in the head," she muttered, and clicked her tongue as the door shut behind them.

At that moment, her sister, a young girl in her late teens, let out a shaky breath and rubbed her wrists.

"Vermin," she cursed toward the door in a slightly trembling voice. "I hope a carriage runs them over in the street."

"Are you okay, Claire?" Vivia asked, rushing to her side and grabbing her arms to inspect her. "Did those bastards hurt you?"

Claire shook her head. "No. But..." Her expression shifted from fear to bewilderment as she looked into her sister’s eyes. "Where on earth did you get that kind of money?"

Vivia sighed and frowned. "Don’t worry about that right now. An old acquaintance owed me a favor."

"An old acquaintance?" Claire repeated in disbelief. "That... that was 1,500 crowns!"

"I said drop it, Claire," Vivia snapped, leaving no room for argument.

She turned to head upstairs, and her shoulders slumped as she looked even more drained than before. "I’m going to wash up. Try to tidy up the living room a bit, okay?"

Claire did not reply. Instead her expression grew even more questioning. After a moment, she exhaled and looked around. Then she ran a hand through her auburn hair in frustration as she took in the state of their living room.

She moved to right an overturned wooden chair, setting it back on its legs.

Just then, a knock echoed thrice on the door.

"Who’s there now?" she muttered in an agitated voice.

In response, the knock sounded again, a bit more insistent this time.

Claire’s frown deepened.

She glanced toward the staircase where Vivia had gone, then looked back at the front door. Then she clicked her tongue, and as the series of knocks started up again for a third time, she lost her patience.

"I’m coming, hold your horses!"

She walked over and pulled open the door. She expected to see those thugs coming back for more, but the breath caught in her throat as she found a beautiful woman with purplish-black hair and striking purple eyes standing on the landing.

"Who..." Claire began, but the visitor cut in before she could finish.

"Could I bother you for a glass of water? I’m terribly thirsty."

The pale woman, dressed in a sweeping black gothic gown, certainly looked it. Her lips were slightly parted as if parched, and her breaths were short and faint, as though she had been walking for miles.

At this moment, a dozen questions immediately flooded Claire’s mind.

Seeing Claire hesitate, the woman let out a soft, light chuckle. "Forgive me. I was searching the neighborhood for a particular woman, but the thirst caught up with me. I couldn’t take another step without finding a drink, so I simply took a chance on the nearest door."

"Oh," Claire said, her mouth forming a quiet O as she nodded in understanding.

"Alright." She almost invited the young lady inside, but when she remembered the state of her living room, she paused. "Please wait here for a moment."

She turned and began to head to the kitchen. However, just then, she felt her throat get so dry and itchy that she couldn’t help but clear her throat, coughing once into her shoulder.

When she got to the counter, she poured a clean glass from the pitcher, but her own throat suddenly tightened so unnaturally that she had to swallow hard just to draw a breath.

’Jeez. I’m so thirsty.’

She stared at the water for a few seconds, then... she decided to help herself first.

Without much thought, she brought the rim to her lips and downed the entire glass in greedy gulps. Cool water spilled down her chin as she drank, and then... the thirst began to fade.

After wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, she exhaled as she suddenly felt a wave of strange relief wash over her, like she had just survived a hot summer day in the desert.

She set the empty cup down, grabbing a second glass from the drying rack to fill for the woman outside. As the stream of water hit the glass, Claire blinked, and a sudden thought made her pause.

’Wait. Was I even thirsty a minute ago?’

She frowned as she felt that something was wrong.

With the glass now filled, she picked it up and looked up. But then, her body tensed as she saw the woman who had been outside was now comfortably sitting in their armchair.

’When did she get in?!’

Claire’s heart began to race. But just as she opened her mouth to scream at her, the woman turned to her and offered a small smile.

"So you are her sister, huh."

"Huh?"

At that moment, Claire’s vision went black.