Music Recommendation: Red Right Hand- Nick Cave
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Back in the far corner side of Meadow town, where the town’s market place was located, people bustled in the streets. Some people were bargaining with the vendors, while most of them walked, leaving a chatter in the air that dulled most of the loud voices.
And while the common people were gathered mostly on the front side of the market which was set up for the humans, there were a decent number of people, who belonged to the other kinds, hovering around the deeper and darker side of the market.
One such person, who strolled in those darker streets was none other than Vincent Moriarty. Unlike the other day, when he had encountered Eve, he didn’t wear a cloak to hide where he came from. His disheveled, silvery hair stood out from the rest of the crowd, making many turn their heads to look at the tall man more than once. He wore dark gray trousers and vest along with a clean white shirt.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Moriarty. It is so good to se—” one of the men greeted him on his way, and received only a glance from the man.
Some of them bowed their heads until he walked past them, while some dared to wish him but received no response. A lot of them quickly stepped away, making way for him and not to be in his path.
“Master Vincent!” A man with a mustache quickly caught up to Vincent from behind, a little out of breath as he had run. “You missed the meeting today. Everyone was waiting for you.”
“I got busy with something else,” responded Vincent.
“Are you here to buy something, Sire?” Asked the man, who worked for Vincent. Vincent turned to look at him and asked him,
“Have you heard a phrase that goes keep-your-nose-out-of-my-business?” The man opened his mouth before closing it. Vincent then smiled, “I am glad that you have. It would have been embarrassing if I had to teach you that, Patton. What happened to the meeting?”
The man named Patton had to keep up with Vincent’s feet, as he had shorter legs compared to Vincent’s long legs.
Patton’s eyes moved back and forth, “Because of your absence and how important it was that you be present, I postponed the meeting for two hours, and decided to look for you.”
“And how many hours have passed since then?” Vincent glanced around, as if he was looking for something or someone.
“An hour and a quarter. I wasn’t sure where to find you,” Patton wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve.
“Good. I should be done with the work here,” stated Vincent, and he started to unbutton his shirt’s cufflinks before folding the sleeves up to his forearms. He didn’t pull out his leather gloves.
Vincent took a left, coming to stand in front of a shop. The merchant of the shop had a bluish-black bruise on his face. On seeing Vincent, the man appeared petrified and gulped.
“You scrawny thing. Did you do what I asked you for?” Vincent demanded from the man.
“I—In the back alley,” the man turned his body in the direction to look back.
Vincent and the merchant stared at each other, and the merchant’s eye shifted to look at the man who was with this silver haired man.
Then came the blunt words from Vincent, “Do you think I am a mind reader? Start walking.”
“Yes, Sire!” The merchant nodded and then turned to the merchant, who was next to his shop. “Take care of my shop. I will be back soon.”
The merchant apprehensively but quickly left his shop and said in a timid voice, “Please follow me.”
Vincent, Patton, and the merchant started to walk in the narrow alley. The ground they walked on was wet and murky, old cans dumped on one side. This was the side of Meadow, which the humans didn’t come to visit or look at, but that didn’t mean it was inaccessible to the other creatures, who liked to walk in and out of this part of the market.
After they took a right turn around the corner, the merchant who was leading the way stopped in front of one of the old buildings that had many doors. The one that they stood in front of, a large lock was placed on it, and the merchant quickly fumbled through his trouser pocket to pull out a key. Unlocking the door, the merchant pushed the door open.
The merchant turned to Vincent and said, “I have tied his hands and legs. It was hard to put him in here.”
Vincent jerked his head towards the room and questioned, “Did you get the right person?”
“Yes, yes,” the merchant nodded his head, “I thoroughly verified before catching him. I found him in one of the inns, drinking.”
“Let us hope he is the one,” replied Vincent, looking at the merchant. “If only back then you would have answered truthfully, you could have stopped your face from turning into a rotten vegetable.”
The merchant bowed his head, hoping to be let off the hook and maybe shift his shop elsewhere to do business so as to avoid crossing paths with Vincent again. A few days ago, he slipped when Vincent had asked him a question that had ended up with the person giving him a punch to his face.
“Forgive me for my behavior that day,” the merchant apologized to Vincent. “I was scared.”
Vincent placed his hand on the merchant’s shoulder, who only froze. He said, “You don’t have to be scared when you don’t have bad blood with me. I don’t care about your relationship with other people. What I care, is me.”
Patting the merchant’s back twice, he finally stepped into the room.
Patton, who quietly followed Vincent from behind, asked him, “Mr. Moriarty, this is a vampire.”
“Were you expecting to find an angel?” Vincent retorted to Patton’s statement.
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