Ordinary days of a villain(4)

— Um..? — mumbled the man behind the bar, raising an eyebrow.

— Hey, should I repeat that? — the visitor drilled him with a threatening dark gaze, asking again.

— No, no, I haven't seen her, I've never seen that girl.

— I see... — the stranger said coldly, then turned around and left, loudly slamming the door.

Three days ago.

After emptying the glass of wine, she placed two small bags of money on the table.

— There was no one here, alright? — Rachel asked, smiling and narrowing her eyes.

— As you say, miss, — the bartender said with a smug chuckle, taking the money and slipping it into the inner pocket of his vest.

Now. The village.

No sane person would think a vampire could be hiding behind the face of a sweet nun, since most couldn't even tolerate stories about Yunis. But no one could guarantee Rachel was sane, right?

Since ancient times, vampires have been symbols of evil and deceit. They were considered very bloodthirsty and cunning creatures, and… blah-blah-blah. The same old cliché from fairy tales wasn't true — vampires weren't afraid of garlic or similar things. But one thing was absolutely true — they fed on blood.

According to legend, when the first humans lived, everyone worshipped the god Yunis. Not that it's any different now, ha!

But some people hated him. Most of all — Arfen, one of the most terrible villains the earth had ever seen.

He was an incredibly powerful dark mage who founded a demonic alliance. After that, he and his followers summoned demons to earth.

The god got angry at him and those who followed him, turning them all into vampires. They were doomed to immortality and hatred from humans and unable to resist their thirst for human blood.

Yes, it sounds illogical — as if humans got a second danger. But I can assure you: Yunis had a great sense of humor!

He didn't stop there and, deciding to prevent this from happening again, took magic away from humanity.

See? I told you — the guy could joke, right?

After that, magicians disappeared, leaving only those who wielded the sacred magic of light, while the rest of the wizards were replaced by bloodthirsty vampires.

Although it's just a legend, people still believe it to this day. And as an observer, I can confirm the story's 100.1% accuracy!

But there was a second part of the story.

It says that once Arfen was a promising young mage. One day, his sister became seriously ill. He studied different ways of healing but unsuccessfully. Then he came to the church and prayed every day — it was all he could do.

Yes, poor Arfen was that good...

When the guy realized nothing helped and he was going mad with despair, he began seeking forbidden books on magic to summon the highest spirit of light — the first subordinate god.

But instead, he disturbed the god himself.

Yunis was angry but still listened to the mage's request. He told about his problem and asked only to heal his dying sister since he had no one else.

The request took only five minutes for such a powerful being as Yunis. But that's not interesting, especially when watching a world where nothing happens.

So Yunis got even angrier. Using his power, he left a huge ugly cursed mark on the mage's back, which painfully burned every time he used magic or thought of his sister.

And his last words were:

— What must happen cannot be changed.

Then Yunis disappeared, and soon after, the mage's sister died.

Arfen went even more insane, and his only goal became the destruction of everything created by that deity.

But only a few knew the second part. Of course, Rachel was one of them…

It was daytime outside. Rachel was bustling around the table, brewing tea.

Without remorse and without a hint of doubt. There really wasn't a drop of pity in her, though most likely it was because she simply didn't consider humans to be human.

In any case, whatever she thought, drinking that tea with poison was undesirable.

Although less than a week had passed since her arrival in the village, everyone already knew about the girl. Interested by her words, many immediately visited the church, recently abandoned and located not far from the village.

And despite the small number of residents — no more than a hundred — there were many people in the holy old building.

After the sermon, Rachel took a short break to dedicate time to her sophisticated pastime.

The day passed quickly, moving past noon. Finishing with singing and monotonous tales about Yunis, she moved on to inviting people one by one to confess their sins and drink tea while making a wish.

Sitting at the table, she accepted villagers for confession.

A knock came at the modest room's door, where the process took place, and a man entered.

He was tall, slim, with an unpleasant lean face decorated by a cheeky smile.

He slowly approached the table, and Rachel handed him a cup of tea with a completely friendly expression.

— I... — he began uncertainly.

The villager spoke nervously at first, glancing sideways at the girl, but after a few minutes was already complaining at length about his problems.

Although she easily manipulated people, making them open up, Rachel only faintly heard all visitors' voices, including his. Only in the end did she try to piece the puzzle together in her head to understand the essence of what was said. Of course, she didn't care at all about their meaningless worries.

Because the most interesting part began when they drank her drink. Because more than anything, she loved watching the victims at such moments, though, of course, she would never show it.

After a long story, he lowered his voice:

— I wish I had lots of money without effort, and… many girls! — saying this, the man looked expectantly at the nun.

— Pray to the god Yunis for this wish and drink the tea to honor him! I'm sure he will hear your sincere prayers, understand how many times you've been treated unfairly, and fulfill your wish! So be it! — Rachel said, giving a sign, and he drank the tea.

(If only it worked like that...) — the girl thought with contempt.

Less than a month had passed since her arrival in the village. That was enough time to turn this place into a gathering of tea-obsessed cultists.

Perhaps it wasn't even about her or her tea, but about how all those people, like a herd of dumb sheep, followed her faith and drank the poison several cups a day when they came to her.

The girl often used this method because it seemed the funniest to her — watching sheep who would soon become mutton.

Just add poison and watch them slowly go mad, turning into dead men stuck in illusions of dirty desires.

Though they themselves were to blame for hastening their demise.

Everyone drank the tea, but no one asked what it was made of.

"And after that, they call themselves the best creations of Yunis? That's so funny..." — every time her victims fell for such a simple trick, she wondered if Yunis created all these "reasonable people" out of boredom.

Well, I won't reveal all the cards as your humble observer, but you're entitled to think so too~

Time flew by swiftly, turning day into night and back again.

And a month passed.

It was late evening outside, and the moon slowly began to emerge from behind the clouds.

Glancing at the clock, Rachel shifted her gaze to the letter the bird had delivered just a few minutes ago.

(Time really flew by) — she thought, sighed, and looked at the rising red moon.

Right... today was the day of her eclipse. And today she was unusually beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Then the girl slowly looked back at the letter still lying on the windowsill. Pressing the envelope with her palm, the blonde lazily scanned the lines, trying to find the sender.

(Annelise?.. what now?) — quietly sighing, Rachel finally remembered that her vacation had ended a couple of weeks ago.

(And why is that maid so annoying?)

(Maybe... just kill her?) — even thinking about murder, Rachel fully understood that finding a replacement for such a capable servant would take a long time.

(Ha... so irritating, why can't I just rest peacefully in this backwater?) — running her hand through her fluffy curls, Rachel stuffed the letter into her pocket and stepped outside.

Indeed, slaughtering this village had only been her way of amusing herself during the vacation. Now she had to get back to work — boring but profitable. Though she had long grown used to this life, sometimes it wore her out and annoyed her deeply.

So relaxing and spending a whole month in a quiet village playing with sheep — Rachel rated that vacation a solid 10 out of 10.

She stepped out of her hiding place and hurried toward the village. She was still a bit angry and irritated (as much as her doll-like face could show) at the thought of returning to the damn job again.

Just think, a month really flew by fast, and she hadn't even had enough time to play with her "little sheep."

Rachel quickly reached the village and stopped to admire the red moon once again.

After a few seconds, the blonde pulled out a tiny scalpel from her dark brown cloak, which had many inner pockets stuffed with various small but sharp weapons.

Grinning, she continued walking, eager to finish the "performance." Her bad mood and gloomy thoughts about returning to work quickly evaporated, replaced by cruel and slightly twisted ones.

City.

An unknown man in a similar cloak entered the tavern.

It wasn't the safest part of the city, and the man had no desire to be there if not for urgent reasons.

"Good evening, what can I get you?" asked a middle-aged man behind the bar in a polite tone. But despite his voice, he didn't bother to put the glass on the table, continuing to wipe it.

The stranger hesitated a bit, slightly taken aback, though his face showed no emotion — rather, he looked mildly embarrassed.

Still pondering, the stranger pulled back his hood.

He was a man with hair like molten silver and a handsome face with sharp features.

His unusual appearance immediately put the locals on edge, and they cast hostile glances his way.

"So..." — interrupting the bartender, who was about to repeat his question for the second time, the handsome man said in a cold, emotionless tone:

"The Angelic Lady, please."

A faint look of confusion crossed the bartender's face, then he set the glass aside.

"That might be a bit difficult..." — he stammered, not looking the visitor in the eye.

"Yes. With the magical fruits."

That ridiculous phrase meant he wanted to use the services of the criminal guild.

The password was simple but changed depending on the time of day — day or night — and even on Mondays.

The phrase "with the magical fruits" meant the client wanted to meet the branch head.

If someone ordered the "Angelic Lady" — it meant the matter was urgent.

There were many passwords for various services, each partially changing with the time of day — twice at night and in the daytime.

Getting services from this guild was difficult but possible if you had good connections.

"I still don't think..." — the bartender started.

"Are you sure? I really want this drink," the handsome man pressed his hand firmly against the counter. His aura became genuinely intimidating.

"Th-then... come inside, he'll be waiting there..." The bartender's surprised and frightened eyes quickly hardened, and the aura around him changed too, resembling that of a hired killer.

They moved into a corridor filled with suffocating silence, the only sound their footsteps.

"?" — raising an eyebrow, the visitor looked questioningly at the wall where they stopped.

No need to wait long: the escort muttered a brief spell, and a small magical circle with faint purple glowing outlines appeared on the stone floor.

(A magic circle? Didn't expect to see one in a place like this. Though I should have expected it...) — thought the handsome stranger, stepping into the circle with his guide and disappearing with it.

"How much longer?" — the man asked impatiently, glancing at the bartender walking ahead and showing the way. Finding the right turn was tricky; there were many, and all were very long.

(Was there a spatial reduction spell?) — reason to think so, since from the outside the building looked like an ordinary small tavern or bar.

"Please, this way," the bartender politely indicated a door at the end of the long corridor.

Frowning, the visitor quietly opened the gilded door.

Nothing surprising for a place like the Black Guild. Their profits allowed for more than just some fancy doorknob.

Without hesitation, the silver-haired man sharply opened the door and stepped inside.

Village.

It was night outside. Rachel was breathing heavily, sitting on a sack with a "sheep."

"Sometimes I really do confuse work with rest. I should've scared him more before the end~ he had such a funny face..." The girl twisted a lock of hair around her finger, quietly complaining.

(I even started talking to myself... I'm going mad...)

"Hah..." — sighing, she stood up from the body of an unnamed man and kicked it with her foot.

"The poor ram," tied up and sealed in a potato sack, lay atop two other such sacks, beaten to death. What could be worse than such a pitiful death?

They were already weak, like flies, from the poison they'd been drinking for a whole month.

After pacing a bit to stretch her legs, Rachel jumped over to a woman lying a few meters away, trying to crawl away and escape her fangs.

"Where do you think you're going? You know, leaving without warning is very rude..." — Rachel whispered with an innocent voice, leaning over the woman desperately trying to get away.

"You..." — the woman looked at the young girl with hatred.

"Crazy... bitch..." — the stranger spat through clenched teeth, trying to say something but didn't manage — her head flew off before she realized it.

(Lately, these sheep have completely lost their manners... what a pity.)

(Anyway, this village really is cozy...) — narrowing her eyes, Rachel smiled, looked at the woman who had become her dinner, and turned away, leaving.