Allure Of The Night

Music recommendation: Down the Dungeon- ASKII

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Vincent sat on his heels, his hand touching the ground as he questioned, “Is this where the man was found dead?”

Two villagers, accompanied by a guard, stood a few steps away from him. One of the men nodded, “This was where the body was, Sire.”

“Did you hear any scream?” Vincent brought his hand to his nose and smelled it. Whatever evidence was there had been mixed with other scents.

The men shook their heads, and the person who spoke earlier said, “We didn’t hear any scream. We were passing by the place. It was eleven I think, when we caught this woman murder the man. W-we didn’t know he was from a high standing status.”

“Why? Would you have offered yourself to be killed in place of him?” Vincent turned to the two humans, whose eyes widened at his question. “You didn’t hear a scream, but you saw the woman kill Mr. Fowler. The woman must have been slow not to run away after murdering the man, don’t you think?”

Vincent’s eyes fell on the blood on the ground, which had darkened with the hours of murder that had taken place. The other villager said,

“I was wondering the same. She was probably shocked after realising the crime she commited. I still remember her hands covered in blood.” As the men were from the village, the facts had mixed with rumours, “She looked terrifying, with blood dripping on her clothes. She must be a witch to be able to pull out the man’s heart.”

Though the case didn’t belong under Vincent’s supervision, he couldn’t help but to take a look into what might have happened here. After all, Jones Fowler was a member of the inner circle, and when a person from such a high position fell, that only meant there was a secret trying to bury itself with the dead.

Vincent’s eyes fell on the guard, and he questioned, “Where is the head of the village?”

“He’s at the office building, Mr. Moriarty,” informed the guard.

“Go and bring him here. Tell him I have a few questions for him,” stated Vincent, and he waved his hand at the villagers for them to leave.

The two humans offered a deep bow and left. Vincent took a walk around the village, which was rather average size, and some villagers peeked behind a door or window. He wondered what Fowler was doing here that day. From what he had learned, the man was supposed to head home after working overnight in the council. Instead, he had come here.

“What do you think you are doing?! Let go of my shirt, right this instance!” The head of the village had a thick moustache and a round belly covered in a coat that was better than the clothes worn by the other villagers. “Do you know who I am?! I am the most important person in this village.”

The guard pushed the head of the village in front of Vincent. The vampire stared at the human with probing eyes while the village head glared at him.

“What do you think you are doing? I have work to do!” The village head harrumphed.

Vincent stretched his hand forward for the village head to take, “I am Vincent Moriarty, from the council.”

The village head took a quick look at Vincent before stretching his hand towards the vampire. But the handshake was much firmer than the human had expected. The human flinched in pain as if his bones were being crushed, and when Vincent let go of his hand, he quickly brought it to his chest.

“Thatcher Jarman. What do you want? I have already answered everything the council wanted to know. I believe it was Mr. Cripps?” Mr. Jarman gave Vincent a look.

“I am Mr. Cripps’ partner. I am surprised you haven’t heard about it,” Vincent offered a polite smile before asking, “Did you meet or see Mr. Fowler in your village?”

Mr. Jarman shook his head, “I didn’t see the man until I saw his dead body.”

“Are you sure?” Vincent pressed for answers.

“Of course I am. How would I have known that the man had come?” Questioned Mr. Jarman, who looked weary and pursed his lips as if to hold his tongue. He continued, “It was only after I heard that someone killed him that I knew he was in the village.”

“And what were you doing before you were informed?” Questioned Vincent, his coppery brown eyes holding a glare, he added, “I don’t know if you have heard about it, but the penalty for trying to hide is far worse than you can imagine. On top of my head, crushing your feet and losing a limb and that’s not pretty,” his voice lowered.

The head of the village huffed, “What was I doing? I-I… I was in my office, having my lunch.”

“Rather too early to have lunch at eleven, don’t you think?” Asked Vincent, and his ears picked Mr. Jarman’s hitch in his breathing. “Perhaps you must have not had your breakfast and were hungry. Happens to me too.”

Mr. Jarman nodded, now turning silent and softly gulping down the fear that started to crawl into his mind. When Vincent raised his hand, the human blurted, “Don’t hurt me!”

Vincent placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, lightly massaging it before tightly gripping Mr. Jarman’s shoulder, who winced in pain, “Usually I am a very patient man, the most understanding in the room. But when a person thinks they can try to make me a joker, I need to show them who the real fool is. Do you think it is the right thing to do, Mr. Jarman?”

The human’s concentration was on Vincent’s hand, to pay attention to what the vampire said. “Sire?” He asked.

“I will ask you again, did you see or do something you shouldn’t have done?” Vincent calmly asked with a peaceful-looking smile as if he meant no harm.

“Let go of my shoulder! What you are doing now is threatening me!” The man sputtered and tried to turn to look for help. But they stood at the spot where Mr. Fowler’s body was found.

“Threatening?” Vincent looked at the man with shock. “I was being friendly. Hold on, let me tell what threatening means–”

“AHRGHH!” The village head bent his back and tried to get away from Vincent’s grip while feeling a sharp pain shooting on one side of his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“I think you are turning quite rusty there, Mr. Jarman. It is time for retirement from work. What do you say?”

“I will report your actions to the council and tell them how you are crossing your line and protocols!” Mr. Jarman complained in pain.

When the human looked at Vincent, the polite smile had changed into a cunning one. Though the smile was bright on the vampire’s face, it didn’t reflect in his eyes. When his lips parted, the human noticed the sharp fangs.

“If not retirement from work, perhaps retirement from life?” Vincent tilted his head in question. “We can reenact the details of Mr. Fowler’s death. Sometimes we need to insert ourselves to solve the case on a deeper level.”