Boromir relished in the new kill. That old man didn’t stand a chance.
They had gotten news from her again, saying that the redhead would seek refuge with an old friend.
They made it in an hour.
Through a window that just barely had a bit of the curtain pulled away, Boromir could see the old man pushing a case back in place.
He was hiding something, and Boromir didn’t know what.
He walked up to the front door pounded on it.
He could hear a frightened sound from inside, and Boromir couldn’t help but laugh when a dozen or so locks were unlocked just so Boromir could get a good look at the man.
He had long white hair that reached the middle of his back, and a matching beard that reached his round belly. His eyes were a light blue, but pink and puffy as if he’d just been crying.
Good, Boromir thought, he liked it when his victims were scared.
He imagined for a moment one of the girls he was hunting staring at him with tears in her eyes, right as he slit her throat.
Shaking the thought out of his head, he regarded the old man, who tentatively said, “Yes?”
Boromir cleared his throat, then made up a lie. “I am one of the lead investigators in a case that involves 6 children around the age of 12. They have recently committed a series of serious crimes.”
“I know nothin’ of dis.” The old man spoke as if he had something stuck in his cheek.
“Shall I describe the fugitives for you?”
“Yes, you may.”
“One of the children in question has short, blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. He carries a sword and wears a brown jacket.
Another, a girl, has long, dark brown hair that is usually braided and pale skin. She has yellow eyes that are not of this world and…a birthmark on her right cheek below her eye.
Another, has somewhat pale skin, slicked-back black hair, dark eyes, and wears expensive clothes.
One is a girl who is short and skinny in size, with shoulder-length honey blonde hair, and is usually dressed in rags and covered in dirt.
One is of a darker skin tone and wears a dark green dress. And one of them…” Boromir said, looking the old man in the eye, “has bright red hair, tan skin, freckles all over his face and shoulders, and…a series of scars on his torso.” Boromir looked at the man, who suddenly looked down at the ground, hiding the knowing look on his face.
Boromir leaned close to the old man and whispered in his ear, “I know you have met these children recently, let them stay in your home, given them your food. And if you do not give me their location, I will make every one of them scream in agony right before your eyes before you die a slow, agonizing, death. So…where. Are they?”
The old man now gave Boromir an expression he had not expected. Was that…wit in his eye?
Before Boromir knew what was happening, the man changed his voice from a country drawl to something that sounded more clever, more educated.
“You will never find the children you are looking for, Boromir Asra, son of Bane Asra, for they are the chosen ones and the prophecy must be fulfilled. You-”
But Boromir had already drawn his sword and stabbed the old man in the chest and out his back.
He watched with a sick smile as the man gasped, then looked at Boromir with a shocked expression. But the old man said one last thing before his life ebbed away. “You will lose…” the old man said in a raspy voice. Then his eyes rolled back into his head, and it appeared he breathed his last. Boromir had already pulled the blade out of the man and watched with satisfaction as the man fell to the ground in a heap, right inside his doorway.
Boromir kicked the body with his boot, disgusted by the man.
“It appears…” Boromir said smugly as he snapped for a rag to wipe the blood from his blade, “That you are wrong.”
Although he pushed it to the back of his mind at the time, he thought he heard the sound of a muffled scream off in the distance...
ns 15.158.61.48da2
