Prostitute and Afterlife: Act I

(The Narrative of Rö)

It was a hell of a rainy day. Thunderbolts ruled the sky, too.

I don't think it was anything new at the time in Einstudht district. I think the rain had its reasons to pour down on us. It probably hated us, too. Or maybe it was empathy from the skies. I never understood it.

I was laying there numb, next to that same damned fence in the centre of the district. The glass bottle was almost fully empty.

I recall it having about four coins in it, but I didn't know what happened to them. I guess that they were stolen when I fell asleep. Next thing I knew, I was down to one coin and a fever, but the fever was normal, right? Sleeping under the cold, pouring rain wouldn't have gotten me anywhere else but straight to the arms of illness.

After a few coughs and restless trembling of the abandoned body, I remember mother coming to me. She wasn't walking right. Back then I had no idea why she walked the way she walked. But at least now I know. I also know that it surely didn't pay off.

Beggars can't be expensive prostitutes, right?

Her actions would have been slightly justified if she invested the money into our survival, into her child. Into me. I would've understood.

But to hell with that.

I just watched you sit next to me in silence. You knew perfectly well what you were going to do with that incredibly small amount of coins. I didn't have the slightest clue, that's why I wouldn't stop myself from asking you.

"Mom? What are we going to do?"

"Hush."

That's what you always replied with.

That's the only word I heard you say throughout my whole childhood.

That was also the last time I saw you. To my disappointment, you didn't come to sit next to me and the fence the next day, neither the day after. I sat there all alone and the rain didn't seem to stop for another whole week.

Fortunately, I was growing up. You weren't there to witness it, but I sure was a fast learner, especially for a homeless beggar. I just wish you could've witnessed the dialogue between me and that one officer that stopped to talk to me. He was the first out of two people in this world that had willingly communicated with me back then.

Walt, I think was his name.

—

The time was three in the early morning, only a couple of hours before the search party had started. Colors were still dark — they were dimly fading into lighter variations, fulfilling the ambience of a very early morning.

There wasn't much life in this so called ambience. The trenches were dead silent — dead and silent, for that matter of fact. They had consisted of dried out shrubs, remains of dead sheep and traces of feces. Sighted movement in these kinds of areas was highly rare, but this time we were lucky enough to gather some of it.

A tall man in his late twenties was present, holding a female figure by the throat and pushing her against the rocky wall. Next to them was a white wolf, silently observing the uneasy imagery.

The tall man was Rö, the Wolf who willingly left the seven and was departed from their cooperation functions as of early. He appeared to be strangling a young woman, preferably who was closely the same age as him, all while one of his most loyal wolves were present to the breathtaking situation.

Being his irregularly regular destructive self, Rö was most definitely out of it and on the edge. While holding the woman in his squeezing possession, he decided to show his irritation in a form of a sentence.

"Speak up, because you're giving me severe temptations to strangle you right now!"

"Ghh… I-I'm… Telling you… I told you everything I know!"

"You're Mary Gowál, I know you've worked for the Lord in the past! You can bet your filthy ass that I'm interested in what your errands were! You probably pleasured his men in all kinds of tipsy ways, didn't you?"

"I was one of his insiders during the last year's cold war in Stoth district, I already told you that! I helped him gather supplies… But then he tricked me, so I managed to escape… And what's… What's it got to do if I did pleasure them?!"

"Nothin', really. I just like it when you prove to me that you're a worthless slut, ready to give away your entire body for something deceitfully wrong. You remind me of someone I used to know."

"It was something that I had to do if I wanted to stay working for him!"

"Sure you did. How was it? Did you let them drool all over those pretty breasts you've got? I assume bending over now when you drop something hurts from time to time."

"You sick" —

"Sick, yeah, yeah, I sure am. So tell me, what were the supplies and where is the Witch?"

"The… The supplies were copper, since it was easy to steal from my brother, Gashper, and I remember… The other one being… Some sort of liquid that I could not recognize, but he would give me clear instructions so I didn't stick my nose where it didn't belong… As for the Witches, I'm telling you! I know not one of their locations, not even the Lord knows all— GHH!!!"

Rö continued to strangle Mary even harder.

Objectively speaking, even a serial killer would've felt the slightest emotion, be it joy in harassment, a feeble crack in their subconscious or simple anger bursting out. Rö was a clear exception.

There was no joy, no happiness, no sadness, no nothing… That was just the way he was. He never introduced a reason to anyone on why torture, harassment and murder were something that had lively powered him.

The rest of the seven got used to him like that, however no one was brave enough to question him about why he was the way he was. Abel's best association was his lonely past that she cracked into pieces, but they never talked about it thoroughly. In the end, only the Shrike fully knew Rö's past and his deepest intentions.

After strengthening the grip that held Mary's bruised neck, Rö fiercely spoke once more.

"Listen here, you bitch. There's nothing guaranteeing me from dragging you down and raping you on the spot, HA-HA-HAH! Your screams would be preposterous but will lack in effect since no one would hear you down here. Then again, would you even scream? I bet you're used to stuff like that!"

"How could you be so… Disgusting?!"

"You want a biography? It's just the way I am. There is no use in justifying myself if the rest of the world doesn't. They're all just as rotten, the only difference is that I am efficient and direct, unlike the people over at the military and the capital."

The grip became even harder. Mary could barely speak.

"This is the last time I ask of you. Where is the goddamn Wood Witch?!"

"GHH… GOD, PLEASE! I DON'T KNOW! I" —

Instead of making her lose her last breath in a manner of strangling, he pulled out his pocket knife and slit her throat. Red started pouring down her torso from a previously thin, pinkish line on her neck. Some was caught on Rö's wintery hands as well.

Mary fell down a hollow figure. The poor corpse of Mary Gowál blended in with the deathly atmosphere of the trench. The wolf was still immensely calm – bluntly looking at the death scene and at the murderer. Rö turned towards the wolf and started talking to it.

"She ain't worth a buck. We're headin' north, Einstudht district. Gashper Gowál wanted, he might know some more. Let's go."