Chapter 45: Chapter Forty Four – Vim – The Sleepy Artist

The final board snapped off, and I quickly ducked into the window.

Stepping into the Sleepy Artist, I took a deep breath and regretted it.

“Damn,” I cursed at the smell of lifeless emptiness, and…

“That’s blood,” Renn’s cracked voice said as she too snuck underneath the boards I had just broken. I didn’t need to turn around to see the face I heard from her.

“Don’t cry,” I said.

“I am,” she said without shame.

Glancing around at the balcony room, I tried to listen to the rest of the building. For any hope.

I couldn’t hear Lughes’s odd footsteps.

I couldn’t hear Crane’s feathers brush her clothes as she walked.

And Shelldon’s trembling was completely gone.

“Vim,” the woman behind me said my name with a broken heart as she stepped past me, hurrying to go deeper into the building.

I didn’t respond to her nor stop her as she ran to the hallway.

While she went into the hallway, I tried to put together the pieces. To understand what had possibly happened.

The whole building had been boarded up. There had been a note on the front door, mentioning that the Office of the Lord had seized the property because of criminal activity.

Such a sight was rare, but not uncommon. Usually it was because someone was tried for treason. Or because they had murdered someone and been tried by the nobles and church.

Tried and ruled a criminal.

Lughes? Crane? Shelldon?

Criminals?

Lies. Human lies.

“Crane!” Renn’s voice pierced the quiet house, and although I knew better than to expect any answer to come… I still waited to hear a response.

None came.

Stepping towards the hallway, I did my best to ignore the mess around me.

Broken chairs and bookshelves. Rugs moved and tossed to corners of the room. Paintings missing from the walls.

Not only had this house been seized, it had been searched. And by many men.

I could still smell the tinge of metal. The iron and bronze lingered in the air.

As did the blood.

“Lughes! Please!” Renn shouted, from farther below me. She had already ran through the whole building, it seemed.

Walking down the hallway, I stopped by each door I passed.

They were all open. Most had been opened with force, and were broken too.

Each room had been searched. Each room looked ransacked.

As I examined each room, I quickly understood something obvious.

“Vim they’re gone!” Renn shouted up the stairs.

“I know,” I said. My voice sounded hard and cold.

“They’re all gone!” she said, hurrying up the stairs. To me.

Had she not heard me? Impossible. She had as good of hearing as me…

No… maybe she was in shock.

“I know,” I said again as I headed down the stairs. She found me before I reached the second floor.

“The paintings too,” she said, staring into my eyes.

She was sobbing. Leaking tears as if she was full of them.

“I know.”

Renn’s eyes narrowed, then she closed them as she shook her head. As if she didn’t know what to say or do.

Stepping down, I patted her on the shoulder as I passed her. She released an odd sounding whine upon my touch. As if I had hurt her.

Leaving her alone in the stairwell I went to the second floor. To check the only place that mattered, now that all of our members were gone and missing.

Heading past what had once been Renn’s room, I noticed it too had been searched.

Which told me a lot. Since there had been nothing in there to begin with.

Going to the back room, to the storage room, I stopped at the end of the hall… and stared down the hall to the empty room at the end.

“Damn,” I said, confronting the horrible truth.

Walking into the storage room, I studied the suddenly large looking room. It looked thrice as big as it ever had, since it was now empty.

I stood in the center of the room and studied the floor. I could see the marks still. Where large crates had been. Where they had been for decades.

“What…?”

Turning, I found Renn at the door. She was half bent over, as if sick or hurt… and she was looking around the room with what was probably the same thoughts as me.

“Why?” she asked me.

“You know why,” I said to her.

Then she stopped looking like she was sick, and actually became so.

Watching her throw up, I for the tiniest moment lost my anger. My rage. It all left me as I watched the woman before me cry as she threw up what little had even been in her stomach.

“Vim!” Renn shouted my name with pure emotion in-between heaves.

“Calm yourself,” I ordered her.

She shook her head, and I watched her hair. Some of it got stuck on her face, near her mouth. She was so distraught she wasn’t even paying attention to herself.

“Calm yourself, Renn!” I shouted at her.

Her head shot up, and her wide pupils got even wider. Her sobs came to an abrupt stop, and I stepped towards her, pointing at her as if she had indeed been the cause of this.

“Stop it. We don’t know what’s happened to them yet. And until we do, you don’t break. You don’t fail them. Stand up and help me, or leave!” I shouted at her.

Renn stood up, her wide eyes going narrow as she glared at me.

Better anger than sorrow.

“I smell blood. Find it,” I ordered her.

She blinked a few times, and then… yes. She realized it too.

Without a word she turned and ran. I heard her pause at the stairs for a moment… then she hurried downstairs.

Taking a small breath, I tried to calm myself.

“Take your own advice,” I told myself.

Leaving the storage room, I headed for the stairs. Before I reached the first floor, I heard the sound of water splashing.

Once in the hallway, I had to step aside as Renn ran past me. Heading to the front of the building. To the lobby.

As she passed, I noticed the clean face and wet hair.

Had she cleaned herself, because that was more important than not, or did she do it so she could better smell what needed to be smelt?

Heading down the hall, to the kitchen, I smelled the lingering scent of food. The scents that had seeped into the wood and stone over decades… yet above it all, was the smell of fresh dough.

Pausing before the kitchen, I stared into the dark room. Near the sink was now a fresh puddle of water. Where Renn had just been. Past that was a cold stove, and an empty table.

Somehow this room seemed… as clean as it ever had been. Seemed whoever had scavenged this place hadn’t touched most of the kitchen.

Yet all the same, the signs of discord and chaos were there.

Unleavened dough, still uncooked. Knives and utensils littered the ground, near the table.

The bucket of water, which Renn had used.

Crane had been cooking when it happened.

Stepping past the kitchen, I went to the door at the end. The stone door, that wasn’t visible.

The door that even now wasn’t open.

Pulling one of the stones out, I tossed it aside. There was no point to be gentle with it anymore. Where the stone had been, behind it, was a little handle. I pulled it, and the stone door popped out of its joint.

“Vim, there’s blood in the…” Renn appeared down the hall, and went quiet as she watched me open the door to Shelldon’s Nest.

As I opened it, I frowned at the odd smell.

That wasn’t blood or death…

Opening the door all the way, I stared down at the stairwell. It was made of stone, and somewhat wet. Stepping into the cellar, I ignored the musky smell and the strange scent. The scent that was out of place.

Renn said nothing, but joined me down. Her steps echoed as we descended.

The place was dark. Too dark. Shelldon never had lights down here, but…

Pausing right at the bottom of the stairwell, I stared down at the layer of murky water.

“Is he there…?” Renn asked with a whisper.

“You can’t see?” I asked her.

“No…” she cried.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced up behind me. At the girl who was staring at me.

She didn’t want to look.

Stepping into the water, I studied the hole in the center of the cellar.

It was too dark for even me to see within… but…

“He’s gone,” I told her the truth.

A tiny sob of relief came from her, and I heard her nails scrape the wet stone as she leaned up against it.

Kneeling down next to the hole, I frowned and wondered what that smell was.

This smell wasn’t Shelldon.

And he wasn’t here anymore. Although I couldn’t see all the way into the hole of water, I knew he wasn’t within it.

Yet…

Where had he gone?

Unlike us Shelldon wasn’t capable of just walking away. He was…

“You said you found blood?” I asked Renn.

After a few sniffs I heard her hair brush her shoulders as she nodded. “Near the counter in the front.”

Standing, I stepped away from the hole.

Whoever had done this… hadn’t been down here.

After all, Shelldon’s old shell still sat in the corner. The thing was taller than me, and twice as wide.

Although no longer attached to the owner, there was no way anyone wouldn’t take it. Either as proof, or trophy.

They had taken the paintings. Why take those and not this? You could even find this shell in some of those very paintings.

Walking over to it, I took hold of the thick shell. It was hard, and somehow… dry.

The only dry thing in this cellar.

Pulling it to the middle of the cellar, to the hole, I quickly went and tossed it in.

The thing made a plunk sound as it submerged… and then slowly descended. After a few moments it was gone, sinking to the bottom of the hole.

Feeling the movements of the water, and listening intently… I realized that the shell continued to sink far below what I had thought possible.

Maybe…

Knowing Shelldon that hole was far deeper than it should be, and most likely even connected to the lake nearby.

Maybe he escaped that way. Hopefully he had.

Yet… if he had…

“Goodbye, Shelldon,” I said to the coward. If he was still alive, I’d never see him again.

He’d find some hole at the bottom of some river or lake… and hide there till he died. Or until the world ended.

Whichever came first.

“Was that him?” she asked with a sob.

Startled by her sudden outburst, I quickly shook my head… then remembered she couldn’t see me. Or at least, wasn’t looking at me.

“No! That… that was his old shell. I just put it into a hole so no one will find it,” I said.

“Huh…?” she didn’t seem to really understand as I headed back to the stairs.

“That wasn’t him. Come on, take me to the blood,” I said, ushering her back up the stairs.

She nearly slipped on the wet stone, but found her footing and hurried back to the first floor.

Following her out, I was about to hurry… until I got hit in the face.

Out of instinct my hand darted out, to grab what had hit me.

The moment I grabbed it, however, I knew I had screwed up.

“Lya!” Renn released a weird sound right as I grabbed her tail.

Quickly letting go, I flinched and raised my hands as she spun around to face me. Both her hands were balled into half-closed fists of rage as she basically hissed at me.

“Sorry! Sorry… didn’t mean to,” I said quickly, raising my own hands to show I hadn’t meant to.

Renn glared at me for a moment… and then her face scrunched up as she sobbed.

Feeling very weird, I reached out and grabbed her by the forearms.

Lightly pushing her, I gently guided her as she stepped up the last few steps backwards. Helping her back to the hallway, I sighed.

“Sorry Renn, really,” I said to her.

“Mhm,” she made a noise as she nodded. As she did so, I noticed a bunch of snot leak from her nose.

A little bothered by her, I realized I probably shouldn’t feel for her.

After all, the main reason she was breaking down was because she worried this was all her fault.

And that very well could be the truth.

Gulping that truth down, I gently patted her shoulder as I pointed to the entrance. “Come on, let’s check the blood,” I said.

She nodded, and surprisingly reached out and grabbed my left sleeve.

Her sharp nails dug into the thin shirt, and poked my arm. I ignored the odd gesture, and turned to head to the lobby. She followed wearily, crying the whole way.

“Damn,” I cursed as I found the mess. The front door, and windows were all boarded up by several layers of wood… and the wood had been used from an obvious source.

The shelves had been broken down for the boards.

And just like the rest of the rooms, the paintings were all gone. All that was left were the remnants of the shelves left over from the recycling effort. The front counter somehow had been spared, however, which was odd. The top of the counter had been a perfect sized piece of flat wood… it would have been perfect to board up a window or door.

There was a large carpet in the center of the now rather large room, but it had been cut up for some reason. Maybe they had thought there was treasure or something beneath the floorboards. Hidden fortunes or…

Directly in the center of the room, was probably the cleanest part. There was something of a… small circle, or square, of empty space.

The floorboards there were untouched, and the rug was gone… and there were stains.

Lots of stains.

Sighing, I walked over to the center of the room. Tugging Renn along, since she still clung to my sleeve.

Luckily her sobbing had died down a little, but she remained quiet as I knelt down to stare at the bloodstains.

The smell was undeniable now. “Lughes’ blood,” I said.

“Is it?” she asked with a broken voice.

I nodded as I ran my fingers along the boards. The blood was of course dry, and none clung to my fingertips. Yet as I smelled my hand, I clearly smelled Lughes.

His children’s blood had smelled like this.

“Definitely,” I said with defeat.

“No…” Renn groaned, and her hand clenched my sleeve tighter. She released my sleeve for a moment, and for the tiniest moment I was relieved… until she grabbed onto my arm.

Glancing at her, I found that she too had kneeled down next to me. Renn was staring at the bloodstains with watery, yet angered filled eyes.

“This isn’t enough blood to tell if he’s dead or not,” I told her.

“It isn’t?” she asked, hopeful. Her eyes darted up to my own, excited.

I nodded. “It’s a lot, yes, but… none of the stains are thick,” I said, pointing at them.

“Thick?” she asked.

“Deadly wounds bleed more blood, or have darker blood. Especially if a head is cut off, or something like it. He bled here, but the blood didn’t pool much. Hopefully that means he had only been injured here… and then ran off,” I said, trying to explain the best possible scenario.

Renn sniffed, and nodded.

For a few moments I stayed kneeled, pondering what to do.

“What do we do Vim?” Renn asked softly.

Blinking, I remembered she was there.

“First we verify our member’s safety. Shelldon I think ran away, to the depths of the lake. I don’t smell his death anywhere near here,” I said.

“And this is Lughes’ blood,” Renn said quickly.

I nodded.

“Let’s go check Crane’s room,” I said.

She sniffed as she nodded, and finally let go of me. Without waiting for me she hurried to the stairs.

One moment she was strong, the next broken… only to be strong again a few moments later.

“Strength. At least, a form of it,” I said as I went to follow her.

Right before I left the lobby, I glanced back at it.

My eyes went to the door.

Right above it, still there… unblemished, and untouched… was a little golden bell.

“Goodbye,” I said to it.

Heading up the stairs, I quickly joined Renn at Crane’s room.

It too was as demolished as the rest… and although smelled heavily of Crane, didn’t seem to have any signs of her state.

“I… I can’t smell any more blood,” Renn said as she looked around the room.

“Hm,” I agreed with her. There was definitely blood in the air, but it was faint. And not just because it was old.

Not much blood had been spilled here.

Not enough to warrant the belief that our members were lost to us.

Although prey and not predators, Lughes and Crane were still non-humans. Still sturdy, in their own right.

The damage they could endure was unrealistic, when compared to a human’s capability.

Yet they’d be easy to capture. Easy to subdue.

Strong, yet so… so weak…

“Vim…!” Renn began to cry again, and I turned to find her holding a little book. She had it open, and was showing it to me.

I couldn’t make anything out on the little pages, and Renn stood to step towards me.

“Crane’s diary,” she said.

“What’s it say?” I asked.

She shook her head, and I wondered if it was something too unbearable to say aloud.

Taking it from her, I quickly found the last entry. It was near the end of the small book.

The date was many years ago.

“This is old, Renn,” I said as I read it. It was a normal entry. She told what she cooked that day. She spoke of Lughes, and Shelldon. The game they had played, with cards.

“I know, but!” she made an odd gesture as her hands darted around.

I see. She had simply found it precious.

Handing it back to her, I didn’t care that she went to hurriedly put it in her bag.

Leaving Crane’s room, I was about to head to Lughes’… but stopped right as I passed Amber’s.

The door wasn’t broken off like the others, but it was open. The door was being blocked by some of the mess on the floor… I pushed it open a little more forcing the pile of rubble to shift, and stared at the horrible mess within.

Her room was so bad I wasn’t able to enter it. It looked like they had torn it apart with a frenzy. Even more so than the others.

“Aww…” Renn appeared next to me, peering in from under my outstretched arm that held open the door.

“Smell anything?” I asked her.

“Paint.”

I nodded. Yes. That was all I smelled too.

With a deep breath, I sighed and released the door. It didn’t shut, now stuck in the pile of rubble.

Upon releasing the door, I had to step aside since Renn hadn’t. She had been under my arm, making it hard to lower it.

“Come on,” I told her as I glanced at her. She had a weird expression on her face. It was no longer just pure sorrow, with a hint of anger… there was something else.

Unable to tell what it were, I decided to stop thinking about it.

She was alive and well. She was safe.

They weren’t.

Thus they were the priority.

Entering Lughes’ room, I quickly focused on the damage. His bed had been destroyed. So had his shelves, and the large trunk that used to sit beneath the window.

The remnants of an easel were up against one of the walls… and it still had a canvas on it.

“Lughes…” Renn whispered his name as she entered the room, going to the broken easel.

Ignoring her odd sounds as she grabbed the half-finished painting that looked ripped and torn, I went to the corner of the room. To where his bed had been.

“Why didn’t they take this one?” she asked between tiny breaths.

“Wasn’t finished,” I said. At least, it was the only thing I could think of.

“Still…”

Going to the wall, which had at one time been blocked by the bed that had sat here… I ran my hand along the wooden section of the wall.

Sure enough, I felt the difference between one of the panels. One felt a little… off. A little softer.

Punching the board, it cracked loudly. I heard Renn yelp at the sound, but I ignored her as I went to pulling off the wooden board from the wall.

Tossing the wood pieces to the ground, to join the rest of the mess, I found the small hideaway in the wall.

Reaching in, I pulled out the small box.

It was surprisingly free of dust, even though the hideaway itself was full of the stuff.

Lughes had taken this out often, it seemed.

“What is it?” Renn asked, stepping up towards me. She held a folded piece of Lughes’ last painting in her arms.

“Toss that,” I said as I opened the box.

Finding the small black book within, I took it out and tossed the box away.

“No,” Renn stepped back, shaking her head.

“Toss it, Renn. Anyone who was involved in this will recognize that painting. We need to find out who did this, and that means…” I started to speak as I slid the little black book into one of my pockets. Renn’s eyes were glued to the book even after it disappeared. She glared at my right pocket as she shook her head again.

“Even more so not to! I’ll… I’ll parade this around! Until someone does recognize it! Then we’ll know exactly who did this and!” her voice was starting to rise, a little too much for my comfort.

Reaching out, I put a finger up near her face. She glared at it to the point I made sure to pay attention to her mouth. She looked as if she was about to bite my finger off.

“Then put it away. Go see if any matches are left, from the kitchen,” I said.

“No! I’m… oh… matches?” she quickly calmed down, upon realizing I was no longer fighting her on it.

I nodded. “To start a fire,” I said.

She blinked real quickly, causing a few tears to leak out. “Oh…”

“Now. Hurry,” I said, ushering her out the door.

She mumbled something I couldn’t understand, and then went to folding up the torn and ripped sheet of cloth in her hands.

While Renn went downstairs, to find if there were any matches left… I sighed and went through my thoughts.

How chaotic. Not just this whole thing… but her.

Usually during moments such as these, I found survivors. Survivors who were terrified. Worried. Alone.

Like Lomi.

It was very rare I had someone else with me upon finding such a horrible disaster. Especially rare for it to also be someone who was directly, or in-directly, involved with said disaster.

I needed to keep her close. Not just because she might be involved in this somehow…

But also to protect her.

Whoever had searched this building had done so with knowledge of us. Or at least, as they seized the building, had realized it.

Why else take the paintings? How many had been of our kind? How many had been of locations that shouldn’t be known?

Why else search for hidden stashes and treasures?

This was bad.

Only three may have died here. Four if we included Amber. Five if I had to eventually include the sobbing girl in the kitchen.

Nothing compared to the loss of Lomi’s village.

Yet… this could result in far more damage.

Far more losses could be incurred. Each painting could lead to another death. Another destroyed home.

Closing my eyes, I sent a silent little prayer… to the dead gods of old.

“May their suffering been swift,” I said.

“Vim! I found matches!” Renn’s voice interrupted the rest of the prayer, and I nodded.

Time to burn that which hurt to see.

So that we must never see it again.

So that nothing else would have to burn.

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