Fear Tactics [Job/Solo]

Alas, Famine was again moving through the night of Peace village. It was just as she liked it this time of night, empty. The dark sky contrasted against lacrima street lights, lights Famine tried her best to stay out from under. Aside from the hanging lights there was little luminescence for a large black blanket of clouds draped the atmosphere to blind the white aura of the moon and it’s stars.

The shadow mage’s bare footfalls echoed in silence. A basket tucked beneath her arm. She strolled, every silent  building she passed windows were black.  There was the occasional drunkard trying to make his way home should they remember where it was. There also was the nervous young woman who walked very quickly, her head down and arms crossed  as if she worried for being involved in foul play this late… Famine found this Ironic, for the woman dashed straight past her in an anxious hurry home.

Her attention focused back on the sealed basket in her carry Famines priorities could be considered cruel tonight couldn't they?... No, she was merely defending her guild; her livelihood.

A new Rune Knight captain has vowed to stem the tide of so-called dark guild.His mistake was his latest decision.A decision which brought him to begin investigating into Basilisk Fang's activity. He had to be persuaded to stop. After some digging  around in his personal background the guild master had learned that he has a family in this establishment, Peace Village.  A wife and young child.  

Something in the basket fidgeted…the faint sound of a hissing eliciting from inside the straw woven container… Her weapon, the cobra inside. The supplied snake had been defanged so to prevent it from killing the residents of the child… but the Rune Knight captain should understand the message loud and clear— Should he continue investigating Basilisk Fang his family will not have been so lucky.

Some minutes later Famine turned onto a residential street, one where the road was wide and the lots were long and green, the scent of freshly trimmed and watered grass wafted to her nose. She turned her head between the rows of similar homes, gingerly stepping aside the mailbox embedded by the number 141. The two-storied home  was set far back from the curb, beneath three towers of pines. It was white plaster with a brown tile roof and beautiful high arched windows.

So to make sure she was not being observed Famine looked down both ends of the street so to make sure she was not being watched before she passed through the white picket gate and followed the stone walkway up to the generously tall door. Famine knew exactly how households in a place like ‘Peace’ Village thought... They thought they were safe… so they never took the simplest security.

Her digits extended forth and turned the knob, her arm pushed forward leading it open silently, shutting it just as quietly behind her. Polished wood floors and a graceful banister curved up toward a vast curving staircase. There was No sound in the house, not even the sounds that houses make: air-conditioning, or furnace, or the stairwell creaking, or the dryer running on  cycling; nothing but a silence that seemed to have been thickening since. Famine looked between both baths on the lower floor, one that veered into a living space and the other a dining room, table set with two seats and a high chair.  Maintaining the silence Famine crept up the steps and not a single stair dared creep in objection for her foot falls ascended with the fragileness of a candle. In time she greeted the top floor. It’s hall branched down in two separate directions. Famine picked one route and stuck to it. The Journey was slow but one had to keep a patient pace so to remain undetected.  She passed an open door, two bodies at rest in the bed in the center of the unlit room. Famine shuffled the rest of the way down the hall and towards the white door half shut at the end of the passage.on the floor was a colorful rug, the sides of the room lined with a scattering of infant toys. It was in the corner of the room she saw it, the tyke at rest in his blue oak crib. Famine stepped in soundlessly and loomed over the spawn. It was no surprise that they were sleeping like a baby, a fuzzy blanket tangled between his legs and small fists.

Famine made quick work to pop open the basket in her hand, allowing the defanged cobra to slither its long body out the mouth of the holder and land on the soft infant mattress, slithering up next to the small child’s body. Before making her way out Famine picked up a green marker from next to the calendar in the nursery, she took the tip of the writing tool to the wall beside the crib, stenciling a hand sized image of her guild’s insignia. She abandoned the marker, cap still removed and all and headed to the corner window. She pulled the glass open, and with a sudden whistle of find the curtains blew back and Famine slipped back out into the night.

878/750 word count