4. Venatrix
By MichellBF
"Lucifer."
The crimson eyes filled with a fleeting glow that made Camille's skin crawl. Lights flickered throughout the house, she heard windows popping, or maybe it was the glass trim. She couldn't identify it, but the noise spread through every floor, the ground shook under her feet and she ducked to avoid falling while holding her baby; from below she saw how the darkness gathered in a whirlwind that enveloped her aunt's body, consuming her; when dissipating, the woman was no longer, in her place, a dark and shapeless body was looking at her. It was terrifying for Camille to see, so she looked away.
"Look at me," he said "Contemplate what you have summoned."
Camille shook her head as she pursed her lips in an attempt to hold back her screams of terror. She didn't want to see it, she didn't want to see more of it, but the new visitor's wishes were different. Camille felt a cold touch against her skin, a kind of hand that took her face and forced her to turn, her eyelids were still closed, and the hand slid over her cheekbones in what felt like macabre caresses, she stirred and let go of the air contained in a gasp of terror.
"Look at me," she heard his pleading.
Camille gave in to the request, though she quickly regretted what she did. She jerked away from the dark and terrifying silhouette, the sudden movement unsettling her daughter, but she began to hum a trembling melody to calm her, fearing it would upset the demon. He, however, did not seem to notice the creature.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Camille Delacroix."
"Camille," he repeated, savoring the name in his immaterial mouth, he made an approving sound, as if satisfied "Camille, could you repeat for me what you said earlier? I'm talking about that interesting offer that you used to get my attention."
Camille turned to show that she wasn't lying when she did what the demon asked.
"I said... I'll do whatever you want."
He did not respond, remained static, accumulating the darkness in the shadow of his body, inclined what seemed to be his head, inviting her to continue, she hurried.
"Mr. Lucifer, spare my daughter's life and I promise you that your will will become my law."
"Tempting," he said after a sigh.
"I'm not lying," she clarified in a brittle voice "I'll do what you say without hesitation, but don't hurt my daughter."
"So much devotion," he observed with a hint of contempt "What is the name of the creature that enjoys your love?"
Camille thought of the name she had chosen, Aliza, as a tribute to her deceased cousin, but in the circumstances she was afraid to say it aloud, not wanting to link her daughter with Alizé.
"Doesn't it have a name or are you afraid to say it out loud?" He asked.
Camille glanced at Alizé's figure, she was still present, expectant of everything.
"Ah, right. It would not be a great tribute to baptize her that way if you take into account everything that has happened because of that girl. How awful..."
Camille showed an expression between surprised and offended.
"There are no closed minds to me, Camille. And, being honest, your fear reveals a lot about you."
She swallowed, thousands of thoughts crowding her mind, she devoted all her strength to pushing them aside and thinking of nothing. She didn't want to give the demon more material, she didn't want him to know what was on her mind, and she didn't want to show all her fears. She saw him walk through the kitchen to where the image of Alizé was, he moved his immaterial hand towards her and the entity vanished, to his surprise and bewilderment, Camille thanked him for doing it.
"What about the father?"
"He left before I could tell him I was pregnant."
"That's... convenient," he replied, pausing thoughtfully "Tell me about your family, about your name."
"We come from France, my grandmother was French, they gave me her name as a way of honoring everything she had done for the family."
"Another tribute, how predictable. Families often do that, it's a way to keep family history alive over the years, but yours, unquestionably, took homage to a higher level," he said mockingly "Your aunt..."
"She just wanted her daughter back," she hurried to say, fearful that the demon would further stain her name.
"I heard some of that while she was murdering your father, unfortunately, the excitement I had while she stabbed him prevented me from fully listening to her wishes," he commented calmly as if talking about a normal event. It was clear he was looking for the imbalance in Camille "I saw the portrait and assumed she wanted..."
"I want to save my daughter," she interrupted.
She didn't know if it was right to interrupt him, she just wanted to finish this. Save her daughter.
"What are you willing to give in return?"
"Anything," she answered immediately.
The misty image remained standing, tilted its head as he surveyed it with empty eyes. Camille felt the victim of dark scrutiny.
"You don't lie, I see it in your eyes," he declared "Believe me when I tell you that I do not wish to take the life of your little daughter, but I was offered several souls that I do not yet possess, curiously two are missing," Camille shook her head and looked at him with pleading eyes "...Although I could settle for one," he hinted.
She blinked and froze as she understood what the demon was offering, an exception to the initial pact. Without noticing it, the ether body moved behind her, bringing what would be its mouth to Camille's ear.
"I will spare your daughter's life only if you give me your soul," he offered.
"Does it mean I'll die?"
"Does it matter?"
Camille looked at her daughter's face and understood.
"No..," answered "It doesn't matter."
Determined, she looked up.
"Do you want my soul?" she inquired "You will have it as long as you keep your word and let my daughter live in peace."
The demon's shadow congratulated her before turning his back on her and leaving the kitchen; She didn't know what it was, but something inside her prompted her to follow him. She reached the main room where she found herself alone, heard noises from the heights, and looked up just as arms formed by darkness climbed over the edges to the upper floors, after walking through the house, they returned to the point of origin attracting something with them.
Camille waited to see what it was about. A heartrending scream rose from her throat as her father's body hit the ground a few meters from her, then her mother's, and her brother's body was drawn from the kitchen.
"Oh God!"
"Ah, ah. Don't invoke him," the demon threatened as he hovered those arms of darkness over the bodies, they began to mark something on them, strange symbols marked with fire.
"Cosa stai facendo? Stop!" she exclaimed, getting a reproachful sound.
"They can't feel pain anymore, Camille, they don't feel anything," she looked for him until she found him sitting on the couch with some papers in his hands "Your family seems to have been important... quite influential, it is unfortunate that the last name is about to be forgotten."
"Forgotten?"
Lucifer released a set of books, records, and albums around the bodies.
"Now that your soul will be mine, there is no use continuing with the family legacy. The Delacroix bloodline will have to stop."
"I don't understand. What are you gonna do?"
"I won't do anything, you will," He tossed a few books he found, and she startled with each blow "Damnatio memoriae."
"Condemnation of memory," Camille translated, agitated "That is an old and vile tactic. Condemn the memory of my family? Under what pretext? I can't, I won't. The last name has been everything to my family."
"A family that no longer exists, Camille. The only one left will be your daughter and she will not live if you refuse now."
"But..."
Lucifer grunted as a portion of his ethereal body parted to form a long limb that headed toward his daughter, Camille pulled away while repeating a desperate "no."
"Okay! I will do it, damnatio memoriae."
The limb reattached to the main body, Lucifer proved to be happy with Camille's decision.
"Leave the girl and find all the writings, books, portraits, everything your family has signed, and bring it."
"I wish a holy burial," she announced, her head downcast, fearful of trying the demon's patience.
"What's so holy about burying a body two meters underground?"
"Eternal rest."
"Naive," he scoffed "There is no such rest, it is an outdated invention of humans that they use to comfort themselves after the death of their loved ones. The truth, Camille, is that after death, humans return to the essence of the world, nothingness. Either that or they go to Hell, whatever, there is no rest."
Camille frowned and sniffed roughly, settled her daughter in the chair closest to her and away from the demon, then turned to the corner where the shadow had reunited its wretched existence.
"It doesn't matter that everything disappears, my family is known for its great works and its eternal goodness, it will be remembered," she argued, clenching his fists helplessly.
"For a while," he replied serenely "Then they will forget who they were."
"We will continue to appear in the State Archives."
"Not if they're charged with a heinous crime. A family that swore devotion to the Church, but secretly performed satanic cults and sacrificed innocents to obtain dark powers... no one would want to have a record of that."
"Infamia!" she exclaimed into the darkness "You will smear the family name with a vile lie."
"Lie?" He laughed.
"Tu sei un Dannato!"
Without thinking, she spat out the words and with supernatural force was carried in the opposite direction until she was hit against a wall, the hanging portraits fell to the ground next to her, and some pieces of glass were embedded in her hands and legs, she complained while looking for support to wake up. When she stood she had no chance to recover, a hand pressed her neck with the force to choke her, she could not see the face of the one who held her because of the growing darkness, but she heard his cold voice very close.
"You have no idea how damned I am!" he hissed "Don't tempt me, Camille, even though you can see me, it's only a portion of who I am, there's so much more to what you see and you don't want me to show you."
The pressure vanished and fell again, this time, seized by her lungs, demanding air, she gasped for it and her voice broke when she spoke.
"Sorry..."
He shuffled when he came out; She ran from room to room until she gathered all the Delacroix history, carried everything to where the bodies lay, took the time to place the portraits and inscriptions that belonged to them on each one, what became of her she left in the space that separated their parents.
"That's all, there's no more."
The demon stood on his back, watching the fire in the fireplace. When Camille spoke, he turned to look at her.
"Proceed then."
"What?"
Lucifer pointed to the fire, she followed him and then saw the bodies. She understood the order.
"No," Camille said as she backed away.
"Burn it all down or say goodbye to her."
With her heart beating fast, Camille did as ordered, creating a line of papers and pieces of wood that ran from the fireplace to the bodies. She lit the beginning of the line, which did not advance immediately because the small flame wavered, she could feel relief at the thought that, for a blessing, the fire would not be given, but whoever accompanied her thought differently; She only heard a click and the fire spread without further ado, turning everything around the bodies to ash.
"No!" she exclaimed. She felt how her soul burned next to the bodies of her relatives.
The fire was not contained there, it was his mission to consume everything, he proceeded to take possession of the furniture with unnatural speed; the relics on the sideboard were caught by the flames, these same stained black the motto of the Delacroix, the freedom, the dominion, and the longing were vanished by the fire.
Camille, feeling threatened, caught up with her daughter and fled the fire that insisted on following her. When she opened the front door, a current of air entered, the intense heat mixed with the cold of the night, caused a cloud of steam and ash that covered her, she was forced to stop when she could not see the path she was advancing. When it dissipated, she was able to look.
"My home," she lamented as she watched a dense layer of ash cover from floor to ceiling.
No furniture survived, and no memory was saved. The house adopted a gloomy and sinister atmosphere from the inside to the outside, as the dark power took over the garden as well, making it dry and lifeless along with the flowers and trees that surrounded the property, the appearance that it gave to the facade was dark. The sign at the entrance, which identified "Delacroix Family" in gold steel, melted to warp the letters, making the last name impossible to read.
Every drop of life that once was in the house vanished that night under the name Delacroix.
"It's done," she heard the voice again.
By that point, she was immersed in a pit of indecipherable emotions. Never before had she felt so much at the same time and didn't know whether to scream, cry, or just give up. It was not clear to her. What she did understand was that her family was gone.
A nervous, almost unhinged laugh broke from her lips.
"What are you feeling?" He asked out of nowhere.
"Pain," she replied between laughter and tears, her chest was tight and she winced before laughing again "A pain that no being should feel."
"Exactly. No being," Lucifer confirmed in a subtle voice "I know what you feel..."
Camille gave a wry laugh.
"Seriously?" she laughed "You who have taken the lives of innocent beings without blinking at any time, you who have destroyed families, destroyed lives, stolen souls without mercy. What can you know about pain?"
"Enough to know that pain can be a great driver. It can lead you to reach levels that have been mistakenly considered unattainable... or it can blind you to a level that prevents you from distinguishing reality from fantasy, this is where the weak commit crazy things like killing an entire family to try to bring someone from death," Camille gritted her teeth "Your aunt killed your family, I only answered a prayer."
"You manipulated her!" She snapped, motivated by pain "You possessed her body and made her do all that, offered her something he could never give her, and enjoyed every sacrifice. You, being evil and despicable, took our past, our present, and took our future from us just for fun."
"You can still have a future."
Camille turned to look for him, but in the dead of night, she couldn't find it.
"A future? Won't you consume my soul?" He didn't answer, and she began to feel tired "I did what you asked, what more do you want?"
With the incessant lump in her throat, Camille spoke to him, pretending to sound less despondent than she was; She wanted, even for a second, to sound firm and sure of what she was saying in order to stop being weak in front of him, but her desire to protect her little girl revealed her greatest weakness.
Her body trembled with fear and helplessness as she hugged her daughter like someone clinging to the hope of life.
She knew the story of the one they called Satan, and if what they documented was true, the being who now took everything away from her, was once an angel full of wisdom and beauty, a cherub as merciful as God should be, she hoped that he would remain. something of that in him. She did nothing to hide her longing.
"Please," she begged after a silence.
"You must leave her," he answered from the darkness.
She froze.
"I do not intend to hurt you, to do it was never my desire, I want to help you save your daughter, because I am not interested in her, you are. She will be more secure with a stable family, that's what you want, right?"
"She had a stable family!" exploded "The one I just burned!"
"Either you leave your daughter in a home or you condemn her to die soon because that creature will not resist you."
"No, don't condemn her," she whispered; she looked at her daughter, she was sleeping oblivious to what was happening "I want to save her, make her happy."
"Leave her then."
It was the last she heard before she felt alone, she looked around for any sign of him, but he was gone. She understood that it would be for a short time, he would return to seek what was promised to him.
She began to move away from the land where she grew up and walked to a house she saw in her memories, it was large and almost as beautiful as hers was, and a couple inhabited it, Camille did not doubt that they would receive a little innocent, because she knew the nobility of their hearts, the same nobility that led them to adopt two little ones who were homeless and who were now their children.
She did not know how long she walked, but the house was in front of her, and, without stopping, she continued to the door. By the time he was under the threshold, she was crying once more.
"My little one," she whispered in sobs as she settled her between the few blankets she was able to grab as she escaped "You will always be my daughter, even if you call another woman mother."
She stared at her as she touched her rosy cheeks, making sure that her image was etched in his memories without knowing if she would be able to see her again. With trembling hands, she bent down to kiss her, then left her by the door and knocked three times. When she heard noises inside, she ran away and hid behind a tree from where she saw a woman come out and with a frown outside, still not aware of the presence of the baby, Camille feared that she would return inside without recognizing it.
"Look down, please look at her."
As if she had heard her, the woman looked at the ground and her surprise was noticeable when she saw her.
"Tesoro!" she shouted inside before bending down to take it, a man came out of the house and began to speak to her.
Both scanned the area in search of a clue, Camille took cover when they saw her direction, and after a minute she looked back to see how the couple smiled at the little girl and led her inside. Then he realized that he would never see her again.
"I love you," he whispered, tears gathering under his eyes.
She had to press her hands against her chest to try to calm the pain, she felt as if a part of herself was torn away, a fragment of her life and soul, together with what had burned with her family. Little remained of her. In the end, the demon would be left with crumbs.
"Leaving her was the best decision. Now she will grow up happy, healthy, and full of riches, she will never lack anything, not even love," said the newly appeared demon.
"You know love?" She asked abruptly, didn't see him deny it, but deduced from his silence that the answer was no "Then how could I trust the word of Satan?"
There was a moment of silence before Camille felt a hand take hers, she looked in his direction to find a pair of crimson eyes that mesmerized her, a second hand brushed her cheek, moved up the side of her face to her hair, a curl of so many was taken and wound on a finger to be released later, Camille saw the curl, it was differentiated from the rest by a particular color it took, it was white and resplendent like the moon.
"It's your daughter's life," he said in an affable voice "As long as the color persists, it will be because she is still alive and happy. And I promise you, Camille, that the color will persist as long as you do your part."
Camille took the lock in front of her eyes and appreciated it. Even though it was a gift from the devil, it turned out to be beautiful and he could almost see his daughter's life. She clung to him like hope, her hope.
"Accept it and love it," he continued, "because it will be the only light that will accompany you from now on."
She saw him directly as she left her hair, she was no longer crying although the trail of tears was reflected on her cheeks.
"What will you do with me?"
"Nothing that you don't accept," he replied "You have left your family, your home, your memories, and your whole life, there is nothing left of Camille."
Then she realized everything had been planned. Take everything away from her, leave her with nothing. Destroy her.
"Right now you can recreate your life from the ashes. What you are now will be because you accept it and because you decide it."
Camille searched inside, wanting to know what would do this. She felt herself being pulled gently and her feet moved forward each time he stepped back, down a few streets until they reached a clear field where the moonlight illuminated the silhouette of a tall man. Behind a current of air that enveloped them, a barrier of fire grew that enclosed them, the light turned more to illuminate their features, Camille could see the face of a charming man whose eyes turned a light color, the color more beautiful than she thought she saw.
"Lucifer," she whispered when she saw him for the first time.
He smiled for her, stirring her heart, still holding her right hand and raising it delicately in front of their faces, kissed her while moving his grip, and glared at her before pressing around the wrist. Camille felt elevated by a force that she could not define, her body did not move from the place, but her soul undoubtedly traveled far and returned in a single second. Lucifer held her from falling when she lost her balance, at the same time allowing her to see what now rested on her skin: a symbol made up of a number that was repeated three times, "666."
"The number of the beast," she acknowledged.
Lucifer laughed as he denied it with some amusement. Camille heard him and wondered how the laugh of the person who personified Hell could be so lovely to hear.
"I wouldn't call it that," he replied.
"What then?"
Lucifer cocked his head as he watched her accurately.
"It's my signature, one of my marks, I haven't seen it in a long time," he explained "Because of it you are united to me, it will give me power over you and will give you something of me ... like immortality, for example."
"Immortality?"
"Yes," He began to stroke her cheeks, appreciating her features and her innocence "The years will pass and you will continue to be young and beautiful, the centuries will be nothing more than a touch for you. However, you can still die from the weapons of man, so be careful, it would hurt to lose such beauty."
Lucifer stroked her chin as he lowered his gaze to her lips.
"You will have dominion over the power emanating from Hell," he breathed, puffing out his chest "...as long as you fulfill your mission."
"Which is?"
"I want you to be my huntress," he announced "Demons escape from Hell to come to Earth trying to gain strength to fight me and steal my throne. I can't be here for long, so I need someone to send them back."
"Signor, we are talking about demons, how could I face them?"
"I'll give you the power you need to stop them, but only if you accept me, Camille."
She thought about it, wasn't sure about what he was offering, nor was it fair. But she had nothing but the hope of keeping his daughter alive, and for that, she needed to follow him. Deep down, she wanted to do it for something she didn't know but would discover.
"I accept, Lucifer."
For the first time that night, she spoke without fear or feeling forced. She became oblivious to the heat or the danger that surrounded her, the fire grew and she did not care, she only looked at the eyes of the man who was smiling at her and who little by little leaned towards her.
And the pact was sealed, not with the life of some innocent, not with his own blood or a simple squeeze, they did it with a kiss that he initiated and to which she corresponded; In his arms she let herself be carried away by a sensation that was neither human nor healthy, but which undoubtedly filled the void inside her. By the time their lips parted, her life was no longer the same, she was not the same. The fear, the restlessness, the restlessness, all that vanished, and there was no peace, no happiness, only a void that would fill with new sensations.
"Camille Delacroix is no more," She heard him whisper, even felt his warm lips brush against her ear "Now you can be who you want and do what you want, it will not matter as long as you are loyal to me and honor our pact."
She tilted her head back when he moved to kiss her neck without stopping speaking to her.
"You will be whoever you want to humans, but to me, you will always be the Huntress of Hell... my Venatrix."
The voice trailed off next to the king of darkness. The dress she wore rose through the air, the fire vanished to let her face light up in the moonlight, and the reflection of Hell grew in her crimson eyes.
That day Camille died to give life to Venatrix.
January, 2018.
In a hotel, a couple wandered into the room while laughing. The woman advanced with the man surrounding her from behind, closed the door with a kick, and followed her until she was at the foot of the bed, she accidentally stepped on him.
"Scuzi," she apologized with a laugh.
"You're French?" He asked as he kissed her neck.
"Italian," she replied, tilting her head back.
"I want to hear you."
"Uhmm ... Mostrami la tua vera faccia per tornare all'inferno."
"And what does that mean?" He asked, rising to her lips.
"Show me your true face to return you to Hell," he translated as he lowered his gaze to the pale man "...bastard."
Before she could defend herself, she was violently pushed onto the bed. The man walked away towards the exit, but when he took the doorknob his hand was burned, under the door a white line created a barrier.
"Rock salt, it is efficient at imprisoning a demon."
Disturbed, he turned to the woman, she gathered her hair in a ponytail, only letting go of a single lock whose white color astonished him.
"Huntress," he identified, and she smiled to confirm.
Subtly she rose from the bed, withdrew a glove from her right hand, and held it up to show the mark Lucifer had left on her wrist.
"You can call me Venatrix."
The man struck her and then, grabbing her by the neck, threw her across the room. Venatrix stood up after hitting a table, wiped a drop of blood that emerged from her nose with her thumb, raised an eyebrow at the red liquid, and then engaged in a short combat. Due to the size of the man and the reduced space, it was difficult for her to move quickly, however, she showed agility and was able to hit him, causing bruises that destabilized him at times.
She managed to get close enough to grab him by the neck against a wall where the light did not reach; Without allowing him to escape, took his wrist to where she found the man's bare skin, he stuck his mark and transmitted the message of Lucifer, the man began to convulse.
"Infernum," she summoned.
In the darkest corner, a crack grew whose interior gave off a scarlet light that illuminated part of the man, letting the demon see the demon as a misty and blackish silhouette.
"Say hello to Lucifer for me," she asked before he was absorbed.
After that, the crack closed and the air in the room returned to normal. Venatrix released the man, dropping him unconscious on the ground. As usual, he rummaged through his pockets and found a few bills, an ID, and a folded photo with writing he read.
«For the man to whom I gave my heart, my soul, and my life.
−Isabel ».
She unfolded the photo and saw a young-faced woman, her lively smile blazing toward the camera. Venatrix went on to observe the man, his careless appearance gave him a hint of misery that led him to let a demon possess him; Wanting to know more, he leaned over him, placed his hands between his neck, where she felt his pulse, and his forehead, with a touch she allowed herself to see hundreds of images in his memories, from the peak of his happiness to the abyss that consumed him.
She sighed while learning the cause of his misery.
"Poor man," she lamented.
She returned the belongings to the pocket where she found them, and just then the man woke up. Complaining, he sat up while rubbing his head.
"Where am I?" He asked, seeing her later "Who are you?"
"We met in a bar during the night, we came here to have sex, but you regretted it at the last second and you may have lost your sanity, you started crying and turning the furniture," she pointed to the table and chairs thrown away during the fight, "then you fell and hit your head," she lied easily.
"I ... I don't remember any of that. I think this time I went too far."
"Pretty much," She sat down next to him "Before coming here you told me about Isabel; Since her death, you relapsed into alcohol and I understand why you did it, you were looking for consolation for your pain... I know that pain," She frowned at her own words after catching nostalgia in them, shook her head, and cleared her throat, "I wanted to push the feeling away like that. But alcohol is a bad friend, a lousy counselor, and the worst comfort."
"Isabel said the same thing."
"I know," she answered in a whisper that only she heard.
He remembered the images he saw in his mind and when he heard the voice of his beloved pronounce those words, he sighed with something similar to regret.
"You must leave her so that you can continue with your life, and I am not talking about forgetting her," she added when she saw him want to reply, "you can keep her memory without condemning you and her to an agony that does not exist. Be happy so that she can be happy too... wherever she is," she added without believing it too much because in her many years she adopted the belief that there was no world after death, something that Lucifer instilled in her.
The man smiled, and she reciprocated a smaller smile, just after nodding toward the door, the man stood up. In obedience to what he pointed out, he left the room.
Venatrix allowed herself a minute of rest before getting ready to leave, then her cell phone rang and without looking she answered.
"Yes?"
"I would be interested to know why that man came out so beaten and happy at the same time."
She frowned at the voice, took the cell phone away from her ear and waved it in front of her eyes to see the name, then turned it back to speak.
"J.J.? How do you know what ...? Wait, are you following me?"
"Only a little."
She turned with a start when she heard the same voice nearby that time, a man with a youthful face entered with total confidence, it was he who had spoken to her on the cell phone before.
"Signore James 'I don't respect privacy' Jerom, che cos'è questo? What are you doing here and why are you following me?"
"I need your help..."
"No."
"If you would listen to me first," she crossed her arms "I need you to track down some guys who might not be from around here... I mean they aren't from this world."
"If you mess with demons, it's not my problem. Solve your shit, Wizard."
"You don't understand. I'm not talking about demons or humans... nor angels in case you think about it," he clarified when he saw her expression "I am talking about invaders who come from another planet. I have been following them, and it seems they are a scout group; I lost track of them, they are off my radar, I need something dark to locate them."
"Something dark?" she questioned, raising one of her eyebrows "I understand. You don't accept what I do, nor what I am, you discriminate against dark powers, but now you ask me to use them to help you. I have news for you, Great Universal Wizard, the shadows do not accept you either, they refuse to help you."
"Forget what I said. Venatrix, this invasion poses a great threat to Earth, many people will be in danger."
"So?" she snubbed, and at James's expression, she snorted impatiently "I still don't understand why I have to rip it every time we talk. Understand once, James, I'm not a hero, sono mercenaria. I don't do good deeds, I charge..."
"...for your services," he concluded with some disgust "Well, how much you're asking to help me locate them?"
Venatrix looked at him, surprised that he asked.
"A hundred thousand," she answered, tempting him.
James hesitated for a moment, even walking from one side to the other, meditating, he ended up affirming.
"Non, no... It took you too long to answer, il prezzo è augto, now it's two hundred.''
"Ok, ok," he said immediately "I'll give you half now and the other part when we find them."
"Fair enough. What do you know about these guys?"
"They are not of this world and they do not mean anything good. I followed them for a few days, managed to catch up with one, and took this."
James rummaged through his pockets until he extracted a transparent bag that kept what she recognized as a piece of skin, with a disgusted gesture he handed it over, and she examined it from the outside.
"So?"
"Got a map?" she asked. one appeared after a gesture from James's hand.
Venatrix walked to the table where he spread the map, pulled out the skin to put it aside as she reached for a knife from her boot, used it to make a small cut on her hand, just above where Lucifer's signature rested; a crimson drop hung from the wound during the time it took her to hold the skin and move her hand over the map, after passing through different countries, the drop of blood fell to mark a point.
"They are in Krimson Hill."
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