Placing the box on the first bench, she unlocked the little lock and opened to showcase a series of golden bullets that looked extremely shiny. The placements in the box reminding Penny of eggs that were sorted for sale.
The girl named Jera, opened her mouth to explain, “The bullets aren’t different to what we have in the silver bullets,” picking one of them she raised her hand so that it could be seen by everyone, “The tip of it is much sharper, that will pierce the body without damaging the tips, “Apart from it having the composition of lead and steel, we have used the ashes from the lake. The bones are known to have their own acidic properties which will help in dissolving bodies to be specific the witches.”
Sister Jera continued to explain, “Some of the other special elements that we have made use are the ones which are in the test phase on the living. We have only tried with woods so far,” Penny who heard about this couldn’t help but be intrigued about it. This felt like a forbidden church that only played to be of prayer while in truth it was harvesting weapons to kill creatures who failed to abide by the rules of the council and the law which was placed.
With the same thought, she couldn’t help but wonder about how this could raise hell if every single person started to use the weapons against each other. Though it was spoken in respect to the black witches, Penny was sure that the bullets were also made for other creatures which didn’t have to be mentioned.
“Would you like to try it out, Mr. Quinn?” asked Father Antonio to see Damien pick a bullet himself. Running his finger over the almost sharp tip of the bullet to have his skin turn tender with the way he ran his thumb over it.
“I will take it. Have it placed in the back of the carriage.”
Father Antonio and the girl both appeared to beam hearing this, “Do let us know how you found it after the first use on your victim,” Father Antonio smiled kindly.
“You will be the first to receive the news of it. I hope this one works well and isn’t something like what you gave me once during the prototype,” there was an underlying threat making the priest laugh nervously.
Damien looked at the witcher with narrowed eyes. With Damien’s interest in the bullets and other machines that were used for creatures who didn’t go by the law, he usually liked to see how well things worked. The first time a prototype was created, it had gone great. It was the second time where there was a mishap.
Father Antonio was the first one to remember the day with dread…
It was another set of prototypes that were freshly made and Damien had turned out to drop by the church that day. With the amount of increase in the number of black witches, he had borrowed the bullets. Damien with the rest of the councilmen headed towards the forest where someone reported that the black witches had made some of the spots as their safe haven.
First, there was spilled magic around the forest grounds. The kind of magic that nullified the abilities the creatures possessed. Not that he would apparate in front of the others but when one of the black witches attacked him, the bullets never went far as it got stuck in the gun. It wasn’t the shape or size but the material with which it was made.
In the end, he had to rely on his physical strength both in the forest to kill the black witches while also having Father Antonio’s neck in his hand.
The priest ran his hand around his neck, remembering the day, “We took extra precaution so that it doesn’t fail,” said the white witcher to have Damien place back the bullet from where he had taken.
“That’s reassuring. I forgot to ask you, Father Antonio,” said Damien receiving the attention who was around him. One of the local women had entered the church to offer her prayers while also wanting to talk to the priest hoping to get some premonition about the future, “Did you have a visitor recently?”
“I didn’t. Did you meet my visitor?” for the very first time, father Antonio’s face turned serious, dropping the smile that was on his face.
Penny caught sight of the two men looking at the woman who walked by them, walking towards the front of the chapel while they stood to the side. The sister priest had closed the box and taken it out to leave them standing there.
She heard Damien respond with, “I did but I couldn’t be hospitable. The moon offered him tea and cookies. Not too far from the Isle Valley.”
“Let me ask my people to be prepared so that they can show the same courtesy you have shown,” Father Antonio bowed his head. The man then turned to face Penny who was standing there listening to them, “I look forward to working with you, Miss Penelope. Bless you,” he gave a nod before going to the woman who had to wait in the confession box.
When they were out, Penny asked Damien, “What do cookies and tea mean?”
It made Damien smile that she was picking on things so quickly without being an airhead like some people who failed to listen carefully.
“Tea is part of the meeting where one gets to talk while cookies mean death. The visitor was the uninvited guest, witch hunter,” how odd, thought Penny as Damien explained.
“What about the moon?” They had stepped out of the church to finally have full light because of what the clouded sky had to offer.
“It is a symbolic representation of black witches. The sun denotes the white witches. Do you know what it means, mouse?”
“What?” Penny asked with furrowed brows, waiting for him to say.
“It means you are my sun. The light in my life.”
“…” Penny stood at the carriage baffled by his cheesy lines, “How do you want me to react to it, Master Damien?”
With a thoughtful expression, he said, “How about a kiss on the cheek?”
