“The faces are the souls the Gate takes. The ones carved in the door, you will never see them move, but if you were to look away and then look back, the faces have changed. An ever revolving current of all the souls that roam behind its door,” I explain.
Sitting up, she looks between me and the church, moving to get off my lap before stating, “I want to go and see.”
Holding her tight against me, “Only the real Gate moves. The ones here in the city are more like temples or shrines to its power. Those who are truly devout will make the pilgrimage to pay their respects.”
“Oh.”
“Tell me about the men, your family,” I encourage. I want to know about them to understand the level of curse we will bestow.
“My father, he was… he was focused. He wanted the best and made sure he had it. My mother was meant to provide a son, and instead, he got me,” she sighs, shielding her eyes, looking up to the sky. “I had everything I could ever want growing up. Except affection, love… touch. I was to be seen and not heard, and when the time was right, married off to whoever made the most business sense.”
“Your father wanted to sell you,” I growl.
“When you put it like that, yeah, it kind of sounds that way,” she sighs. “The night I, you know, I was meeting my future husband.”
I curl my hand around her waist, tightening my hold as my anger brews.
“After the meeting, I asked to walk home, get a little air, you know. Bart,my fiancé, was such a dick. I hated his arrogance, demanding things of me that no woman wants to speak of with men in the room, let alone her bloody father.”
She looks cute when she's angry. This is definitely the wrong time to be thinking of such things, my cock straining against my pants while I watch her nose scrunch as she talks.Wait a minute, what did he demand of her?
“Come, we must punish them.” I lift her, and shesqueals, wrapping her arms around my neck as I stand. Walking with purpose, her body is half draped over my shoulder, and while it is disappointing to not see her beautiful face, I am thrilled my hand is firmly plastered to her ass. Reluctantly putting her down when I find the store I'm looking for.
“Steve, we're meant to be waiting for word on your brother?” she says, leaning close to my ear, reminding me of the whole reason we are in this situation.
For a brief few moments while she talked, I was lost in her words and her beauty. The ache in my chest being soothed and growing desperate all at the same time.Until I know for sure, though, I need to not get my hopes up.
“My brother will understand why this is important. If he heard you talk about what happened… he would not be happy.”
Much like the rest of the city, the stone walls that surround the store are dirty, the flower pots long since dried out, and the glass windows streaked with dust. Not enough to cover the crudely drawn laughing jester poster on display, but enough to dull the colours so it appears just as lifeless as everything else. A joke shop. Every town has one, and despite it being years since I last cursed someone, it's important we get some sort of vengeance.
Walking to the counter, an older imp sits nearby, nodding his head as I pick up the menu.
“Read this over and pick what you would like for your father and this Bart man. If they are not sufficient, I'm sure we can arrange for extra.”
She takes the menu from me, stealing glances at the imp nearby. They are humanoid in their appearance, which may be comforting. At least she hasn't seen some of the more exotic creatures of Hell.
“Stubbed toe. Broken leg. Hit by car. Fall from height. Loss of mind for one year, five years. Steve, what is this? I don't want to kill anyone!” she panics.
“Forgive me,” I say, taking my finger and lifting her chin to look at me. “We can not travel back for vengeance for how you were treated, but we can curse them. It's more of a fun pastime in all the Realms, but you can choose a human to send a bit of bad luck to.”
“Loss of minddoesn't sound like a bit of bad luck, Steve,” she says, pursing her lips.
“It is simply a matter of perspective.” Placing her down, I gather the other menus, spreading them out before her. “Choose whatever you like. We can always come back for more later if you want to pick something else. Personally, I would feel content for your father to receive theMultistep Haunting Package, but you might be more comfortable with theStarter Pack. Random objects moving at least once a week for a year can still have a great impact.”
“So I pick something from this list, and it happens to them?Vengeance. Perspective,” she purrs, embracingthe power she wields for those who have done her wrong. She devours the options for several minutes, her brow furrowing as she concentrates on the many options on offer.
“I think I'm ready,” she says, not looking up.
Gesturing for the shopkeeper, he slowly stands and walks over to the counter. A rustle to the side of us gains my attention, and a curtain draped across the wall near where he sat, moves to the side, an impi,youngling, peaking its head out. “Avus, the soup is almost ready. Mamma says it's cabbage again. I told her I don't like it, but she said we've got to be grateful for what we have?—”
“Hush, I will be up shortly. We have customers.”
The impi stops in her tracks as she aimlessly wanders toward her grandfather. Looking in awe at Rosie, who gives her a small wave hello, her gaze moves higher and higher until we lock eyes, her jaw dropping as she loudly whispers, “Commander.”
“Hush, child.” The shopkeeper hisses, darting his eyes nervously, looking toward the door. It's as if he is expecting someone to come charging in for the youngling, mistaking me for my brother. “Go, go back to Mamma, I will be there soon,” he says, pushing her back through the curtain. “Forgive her, she doesn't know what she talks of.”
“She is fine; however, she mistakes me for my brother.”
