Under the dim, dirty gold glow of the basement lights were four cages. They were rusty, stained, and three of them were barren. The cage on the left in the back had two people huddling in the farthest corner away from a man convulsing.
Something in between horror and twisted curiosity is what drove him to move around for a better look. A decision he came to regret once he did get a good look.
The convulsing man was bleeding from his eyes and nose, and spitting out gooey strings of dark blood. The veins on his temple and neck were bulging as all his muscles locked up. He wheezed and choked, clearly struggling to even do the simple act of breathing.
What could Edgar do? There was no help to be found here of all places, and the two people cowered in the corner looked up at him. The woman screamed something in Spanish while the man gestured wildly to the long row of cluttered tables lined against the wall.
"The key!"
Edgar's mind blanked as he quickly shuffled through the surgical tools, the strange vials with even stranger liquids, and all sorts of odd charms befitting of a Witch Doctor. After what seemed to be far too long, Barry shouted for him. He looked over to see the familiar standing over an iron key. Edgar grabbed it and hurried to unlock the cage door. Out first came the woman, followed by the man. However, just as he was stepping out, he'd suddenly jerked forward as if he'd been shot. It took Edgar a moment to realize the convulsing man had spewed blood all over the man's backside. Edgar's gaze darted back to the dying man. He'd given one final, violent twitch before he stilled, looking like a fresh zombie extra for a horror film.
The woman wailed as she reached for the man whose backside was speckled with blood, but he stopped her. He held out a hand and spewed out something in rapid Spanish. Or at least Edgar was pretty sure it was Spanish. They argued for a solid minute. Should he step in? He hopelessly glanced over at Barry, who sighed and hopped off the row of tables to stand in between them.
"HEY!" Barry shouted. The pair immediately ceased their chatter, looking around for a moment for the source of who'd said that.
"Yeah, hi, down here," Barry said, irritation creeping into his tone. They looked down and didn't look terribly surprised they were talking to a cat. Edgar figured they'd probably seen crazier shit down here. His gaze shot to the dead man, his stomach doing flip flops. Death was a fairly common sight, considering his work environment, but it hardly made it easier to witness.
"Do either of you fucks speak English?" Barry asked, the bluntness of his request making Edgar cringe a little. It was moments like this he wished that stupid cat had anything that even resembled a social filter.
"Ahem. What Barry means," Edgar began, glaring at the familiar for a brief moment before looking back up to the two people. "We're here to help." Edgar watched their expressions carefully. The man didn't look as confused as the woman. He definitely spoke English.
"A-are you sure? This isn't another cruel trick by that thing?" The man's voice was shaky, as he seemed to finally really look at Edgar. Edgar could tell the man was trying to determine if he really was on their side.
"No tricks," Edgar said, holding up his hands in a surrendering manner. "We can help you both get out of here," he said, then motioning to the stairs.
"No, not both. Just her." The man waved a hand towards the woman, who realized she was mentioned. Whatever context clues she'd put together, she was agitated by them. She started threateningly muttering to him in rapid Spanish.
He'd held up a hand, shushing her. Then he looked up at Edgar, who was terribly confused. Why would he not want to leave? And by this point, Barry had just left Edgar to handle the situation.
"Why just her?"
"Because his blood touched me," he said, turning halfway to again reveal the blood spattered across his bare back. "I will get sick very soon, and then I will end up like him." The man's voice broke. "I don't want to die that kind of death."
A cold sliver of dread weaseled its way into the back of Edgar's mind. He already had a pretty good idea where this was going to go. The question, though, was could he do it?
No. He couldn't. There had to be a way to help him.
"We can take you to a hospital. They can help you."
The man shook his head. "No. You don't understand... We're guinea pigs down here for some homemade virus or disease. I don't know what the hell it is. But no hospital is going to be able to figure out what it is, let alone save me before it takes me. Trust me. We've seen a lot of people die of it down here... But..." Then the man's eyes took on a wild gleam. "But you can save me." The woman began her foreign muttering again, tears in her eyes, but she was ignored for the moment. The man's gaze never left Edgar for even a second.
"Kill me." Edgar released a loud breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as those dreaded two words were spoken. "I know you can, else you would've never made it past Buster. Do it, and burn this God forsaken place to the ground. Please. And take Alejandra with you." His wild eyes were now shiny with fresh tears. "Please," he begged.
Edgar didn't know if he could do this. He's killed a few times, that was just the cruel reality of the life he lived, but killing an innocent man... He could never do something like that. The logical half of him said the man was going to die anyways, so he might as well put him out of his misery. But the human half of him said to have hope. There had to be someone who could help him. Though he knew that the only man who could even come close to helping was Elias Thorpe.
There was only one thing to do. It was the obvious choice...
He reached for his magnum, slowly drawing it from his jacket. The room seemed to go deathly silent as both pairs of eyes bore into him. He figured even poor Alejandra knew this was inevitable. This had to be done.
Edgar spun the magnum around, offering it to him handle first.
"I can't do it, man. If you really want to die, here." While he loved that gun, it was his favorite possession, he was completely okay with giving it away in this case. Alejandra's cheeks became wet with tears, and she began to quietly sob.
"Thank you," the man said, and then he looked at Alejandra and said something to her in Spanish. Edgar figured he'd give them their last moments together alone. Even though he couldn't understand a word of what they were saying, he didn't feel right just awkwardly stand off to the side.
"Tell her I'll wait for her upstairs." Edgar took the stairs two at a time. The air was much easier to breathe once he was free from the basement's confines. Barry was idly washing when Edgar approached.
"Heard all of that," he told Edgar, even though he didn't need to be told. "All the more reason for us to get my memories of this asshole back. And regardless of what they are, we're going to tear his head from his shoulders. Not even pathetic little humans deserve this sort of treatment."
Edgar didn't even think to read their aura... Were they really Human? This Elias Thorpe fellow really had a pair of steel balls on him, bringing Humans into the Underworld. Even if they were meant to just be guinea pigs.
Edgar searched for anything he could find that might start a fire. Between him and Barry, they found a few bottles of fire whiskey and a grill lighter. He was just emptying the last bottle of whiskey and retrieving the discarded briefcase with Barnabus's payment when Alejandra finally emerged, her eyes red and puffy.
"Where go?" she said in a heavy Spanish accent. Edgar led her out the door, before setting the trail of fire whiskey alight. A bright orange flame bloomed into existence and rapidly grew as it followed the trail back inside.
The three of them turned and walked away as the home was rapidly licked up by the flame. Beyond the crackling of the flame, they heard a loud, terrified scream and stopped. There was a gunshot that punctuated the scream. Another moment passed before another gunshot echoed through the cave.
Edgar desperately wanted to go back, but the house was already roaring with flames. Nobody dared to ask the question they'd all been thinking. What the hell was that first shot directed at?777Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGnDjaQNEVp
_____777Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDR6vKKRiqQ
Author's Note: Sorry for that super duper late update. I'd actually lost the written version of this chapter and I really really didn't want to re-write it. But I ended up doing just that, so here it is. I'm pretty sure this rewritten version is better anyways.777Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnxsnnGjJ3X
