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Penny’s eyes shut close at the sudden sound of the gunshot which ran in her ear over the quiet room. Smoke coming out of the gun which had fired the bullet as Damien held the gun staring at the magistrate who cowered in fear. Opening her eyes she looked at the magistrate who looked scared but he hadn’t been shot. Damien had instead chosen to scare the man by aiming the wall behind him.
The magistrate shivered in fear, his eyes wide, anticipating the burning pain in her body which never came.
“I know you were helping the black witches in their endeavors, what favor did you take?” Damien asked, pointing the gun back to the man and aiming it to his head, “I did not miss the shot. Was making sure it was still working.”
When the man went to touch something on his desk, his hand fumbling with the drawers and Damien didn’t bother to shoot the desk that grazed the sleeve of the magistrate who froze, “I-I can explain.”
“Wasn’t that hard now was it? You could have saved your fear and I could have saved my bullets. Speak,” Damien demanded. In the meantime, Elliot walked around pushing the man away so that he could take a look at the desk of drawers that the magistrate had tried reaching for.
“What a shabby place. You need to hire someone to clean it up,” Elliot commented, finding the drawers to be filled with things he considered to be garbage and of no importance, “Oh, you have a pack of cigars,” he picked up the brown cigars to place them on the table, “Let’s share a smoke once we are done,” said the vampire brightly where the magistrate didn’t know how to react.
“Start speaking in five seconds or I will blow your brains out,” Damien threatened the man with a tone of laziness like he had other important things to do than be here, “Five, four, two,” Penny turned her head noticing how he skipped a number to shorten the time.
The magistrate stuttered out, blurting in fear, “Councilman Damien, please forgive me but I didn’t do it because I wanted to do it. They have my little boy with them.”
Damien stared at the man who had bowed his head, “Why didn’t you alert the council or the Lord. The Lord doesn’t live too far from this place. A letter would have sufficed,” he corked the gun back.
“They have threatened to kill him if I don’t adhere to their requests. Another little boy was taken by them who never returned back. The black witches had killed and thrown him in the ditch during the time of rain,” the magistrate’s eyes were wide as he explained to Damien, “I was only protecting my boy because I know he still lives.”
“And therefore you decided to trade your son’s life for entire villages and lands that could have caused chaos.
Your one action of wanting to save one life threatened the whole race of humans and vampires. Do you understand what grave error you have made?” Before he could pull out the cork further and scare the man, Penny placed a hand on his arm.
Penny looked at him anxiously, not wanting to kill the man, “This can be solved talking out calmly,” she whispered only for Damien to hear. Elliot who was going through the drawers, glanced at the couple when Penny spoke to Damien. One side of his lips pulled up and he went back to going through the drawers of the desk.
The man had already admitted and had asked for forgiveness, having a solid reason for what he did. Though it wasn’t right, he had done it to protect his child. The magistrate looked already exhausted, they didn’t want him passing out due to the gunshots.
Elliot pulled out a drawer that had some of the dried leaves in it, “Isn’t this spitgrass?” he looked up at the man with an eyebrow raised in question. Damien didn’t care and was ready to shoot the man knowing well how spitgrass looked like and that he was hiding it in here.
“Please, please. This isn’t mine!” the man cowered further away from them, his hands upon the sides of his head, “I was told to deliver this tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” questioned Damien.
“Yes,” he nodded his head fervently, “It was given to me to hide as there was a recent search across everyone’s house. The witches wanted to keep this here and told them that they would collect it tomorrow. In return, I would get my son back to me.”
“Haven’t you heard the phrase of not to make deals with the black witches? When did your son go missing?” Damien continued his questions.
“Please put the weapon down, I will tell you everything. P-please!” he pleaded and Penny only hoped Damien was only trying to scare him and wouldn’t actually shoot him. He waited for Damien to lower his gun down but Damien never dropped it. Not even when Penny had asked him. Seeing it not drop, he sighed, “It has been more than a month or two since my son went missing. After my son went missing, the next day in the morning someone had dropped a letter at the front of my door and I found out it was from the black witches. It was written along with the chain as identification, telling me on how to not notify the higher-ups and to follow their words if I wanted him back alive. I just did what they wanted. I thought it would be last after they told the councilmen elsewhere but they came back saying this was the last favor.”
“Being a magistrate haven’t you learned anything?” Damien asked, putting his gun finally down and tucking it behind him, “If the black witches are asking for further favors it only means they will keep asking you for more in the name of your son who you say has been kept as a hostage. The worst case is knowing your son is already dead…”
