“What are you drawing?” Horse-Face’s companion looked over The Twin’s shoulder, peering over at the picture currently being worked on.
Showing a touch of embarrassment, The Twin pulled the picture away trying to hide it from him. Regretting this immediately, they then held it up to show to him.
The young man leaned in to get a better look, but wasn’t able to figure out what exactly the subject was.
“So…” He pointed to the least incomprehensible section of the picture. “Who’s that supposed to be?”
Almost immediately The Twin pointed to their right, at The Mother. She managed to look demure, even when hooked up to so many breathing machines.
When he got this answer, Horse-Face’s companion just nodded. He then took a seat next to them, pulling up his own piece of paper and pencil.
For reasons only known to themself, The Twin’s sight went down to the young man’s bare feet. They cringed at how darkened they were from walking in the hidden passageways for so long.
As soon as the car reached the state where Bridgeport was located, Shark looked over at Sagebear, who was still decked out in her day wear.
“What do you think of the ride so far, Sagebear?”
Sagebear looked down at the outfit that Shark had put on her. She then lifted up a paw and knocked off the little sun hat that was on her head, as though in protest of her outfit.
All Shark could really do then was watch as it fell to the floor of the car. He then glanced at her with a surprised look on his face.
Then he began laughing and scratching her ears. In the front seat, Blaise and Dennis grinned and chuckled a bit themselves.
“You got anything made of pure silver?” Sinbad browsed the collection of knives as quickly as he could manage. “Look, I only need it to do one thing, and then I’ll bring it back.”
The shopkeeper just gave a sheepish expression. After a brief, impromptu staring contest, Sinbad sighed and pulled out his wallet.
All the while, when he was pulling out the cash, he did so with an air of extreme haste. He knew Elvira was a woman of her word.
He just couldn’t believe she would go that far in getting him to show up at the warehouse. When he put the money on the counter, only then was he presented with a gleaming silver knife.
“Thanks. No, I don’t need the box. I’m gonna end up just using it to shank someone anyway.” Sinbad was then out the door before the shopkeeper could retort.
The only thing Annette could do was stare in mortification as Marc and Harwood were taken to the nearby cage, and locked into it. She could feel the heat radiating from the incinerator, fearful of what could happen involving it later.
It was only a few minutes before six. Elvira tapped her fingernails upon her desk as she waited for the man of the hour.
Annette tried not to look at her, and instead had her attention diverted by noises coming from inside the cage.
Somehow, despite having his arms and legs tied, it was clear Marc was having a seizure. He writhed on the floor uncontrollably, with no one willing or able to help him.
“Marc?” Harwood knew what the sounds next to him indicated. He grit his teeth, feeling helpless in knowing he couldn’t help his own son.
“Oh well, that’s a shame,” Elvira spoke as she watch Marc seize. “Hope he doesn’t die before his baby brother arrives!”
Hearing her laugh made Annette sick now. She wanted to undo her own bindings and throttle such a callous woman. Trying to do so, she was stopped when the door to the room were flung open.
“Why, look who’s here!” Elvira took another look at the clock. “And just in time, too!”
Sinbad clenched his fists in anger as he looked at the woman who took his life away. He made sure the knife he’d purchased was safely in his back pocket.
Elvira remained calm and poised as she stepped back out from behind her desk. She took on a pose of absolute regality as she approached him.
“It’s so good to see our beloved little hellhound again.” When she was close enough to Sinbad, she reached under his chin and lifted his head up, as though inspecting him. “My, what a handsome gentleman you’ve turned into these last nine years.”
“Shut it, Elvira,” Sinbad told her with a thick, deep voice. The hatred he had for her had apparently seeped into his voice. “I ain’t here for tea and chit-chat.”
Pulling her hand away, Elvira then turned to step away from him her hands behind her back. “No, of course not. You’re only here to take back what’s yours?”
“You bet your hundred-year old undead ass, you sick fanged freak,” he answered. “I’m here, just like you said. Now let them go.”
She approached Harwood and the now unconscious Marc, and looked as though she were contemplating it. She then stepped back and nodded once.
“I’ll let them go, on one condition.” She smugly grinned at him, thinking she knew how he was going to answer.
“And that is…?” Just to be safe, his hand reached back and hovered over the knife hilt sticking out of his pocket.
Elvira’s grin became wider and open, her sharp fangs being visible. “I want you to be by my side again. Say yes, and I’ll let go of your loved ones.
“But!” She added, her eyebrows raising in amusement. “Say no, and I can’t be held responsible for them being thrown into the incinerator.”
She began to step toward him again. “So what do you say? Will the renowned Hellhound of Bridgeport’s dogfighting circuit rise to the top once more?”