Chapter 706: A Bullet In The Barrel
Days had passed and the killer of saints hadn’t seen the light of day. Trapped in the lair of the demon general beyond the brambles, he was kept a prisoner with daily visits by monstrous nurses and a singular nun. They checked him for cuts, bruises and ensured that he wasn’t hurting himself. What struck him more peculiar than that, however, was the fact that they drew his blood every week for some odd reason.
A pig drained of blood to be mixed in with some concoction, that’s what he felt like. Why else would these monsters require human blood but to feed on it as nourishment? Or so he thought, and although not entirely wrong in his assessment he wasn’t exactly right either.
"He’s keeping you alive for your strength, one that you’re too blind to recognize." Said the nun, her white, netted veil covering her pale wax-like face. Eyeing her tar lipstick, the saint pondered what kind of devilish nun would choose such a shade. "You’re an otherworlder and your blood contains broken strands of your soul, at least something similar to it."
"What are you talking about, woman?" The man asked, his voice thin and parched.
Leaning against the mossy patch of the wall, the nun crossed her legs and admired her long dark nails. It wasn’t often that she got to view her own body, most of the time in the realm between dimensions, her body was but a concept and nothing else.
"Your soul draws mana from the surroundings and it stays in blood for a long time before reaching your soul, and that’s what the general needs to strengthen himself." Turning her head towards the man again, she smiled. "One of you is equal to a thousand in this world. One glass is enough to quench his thirst for months and strengthen him the more he drinks."
Clicking his tongue and slamming his fists back against the wall, the killer cursed under his breath before glancing right back at the nun.
"Like a hog then, that’s what I am to that there ugly face, huh?" He nodded, and after a moment’s contemplation and a few turns of her head, the nun nodded. "Tck! Jesus and I thought them heads in the skies upstairs were the crazies."
Squinting an eye, a smile tugged at the nun’s lips. She liked the way the killer talked, something about it reminded her of her childhood again.
"You have an interesting way with words."
"And you’re no woman of god if you’re with that old bastard." Reaching under his collar, the man pulled out a silver cross. It had been a gift from his daughter–a daughter that wanted better for her father than to be a murderer. "I swear on christ I’ll get back to my lil’girl and you’re gonna be sorry when I find a way to get outta this damned dank place!"