Sharpbone – Another’s Handiwork
Its late when the shadows dance at the masters return. As silent as you please a note is slid under the door, “look outside and verify its me Rutgar”. It takes several long moments before the rustling of footsteps are heard on the other side, the faithful servant has stumbled upon the note in his rounds.
::Clilak:: Nervous eyes glint through the small window slit – peering unsure into the darkness. ::Moving in front of the window and curling two distended fingers around a bar:: Rutgar its me. ::His eyes gleam with a tinge of madness – the game of a twenty questions is wearing on him. It seems more than masks wear away – I wonder if my own mind is slipping under the stress of it all:: Yes Master, if you would be so kind as to tell me how Geert earned his nickname ::I can see the sweat beading on his brow despite the subterranean chill:: Ahh that is a good question – a story I remember well and enjoy telling. Our fine friend Art lost himself in a rage and quite destroyed his fancy gun upon dear Geert. However after tonight we may need to reconsider the uniqueness of that name. ::The fear runs from his eyes, but so does the strength fade from him. I just have to wonder how many times he comes to this door and its not me.::
::kuuch:: ::I drop the perforated body onto the floor – a difficult prize to sneak out from under Eddie’s nose:: Do you know who this is Rutgar? ::He turns the body from side to side and at one point glances up to me in worry:: Master, this being is much like Geert. The sharpness of the bones and the general appearance, at first I even though he had gotten by me and you had recaptured him. The lack of finesse was what first gave me pause ::he pokes a few fingers straight threw the side of the rib cage.:: ::Putting a proud hand on Rutgers shoulder and giving a soft squeeze:: Very astute Rutgar, but the method was rather more skillful than you would imagine. ::Tracing a finger across a cheek bone – I pull it away with a drop of thick cold blood quickly blooming forward even as the flesh heals underneath:: I thought the physical make up of Geert was his own handiwork at first, this causes me to second guess that assumption. I believe Geert was worked upon – perhaps that feeds into the perverse joy I’ve seen upon him as he works with me upon Milan’s flesh. I plan to speak with him upon it this evening and give ::Albrecht knells and pats the chill corpses forehead:: this one to be done with as he sees fit. I do hope it is not a dear friend of his. ::Shouldering the hefty burden, the two make towards Geerts door::