37 The Parasite and the deal (1/2)
I sighed softly as I looked at the barrel that stood in front of me. A clear liquid swirled in the brown wood vat, deep and viscous. A foul stench made me frown as I added in my personal addition to the blend- a drop of sea water.
”Boss, do we have to feed the fatty this?” Sorren asked as he hovered curiously at my back clenching his fist over his nose so he could block out the foul smell.
”Not really li'l fatty, at least not the entire vat. Most of it is for later, I don't want to bother making it every time we have an annoying prisoner.” I said answering him very patiently as I vigorously stirred the noxious vat of toxins.
A few minutes of waiting later, Sorren could no longer maintain his original level of interest, instead he simply trotted to the side before sitting down and chomping on a turkey leg which he had most definitely smuggled from the inn keepers coffers.
A snort of mirth echoed from the other end of the room where Fawkes sat leaning against the wall.
For context we were currently back at the inn in one of the rooms we had 'booked' with the fat man tied to the bed post of the rickety bed, a gag cloth over his mouth that resembled a century old sock and ropes as thick as two thumbs tied him in place. Of course he was asleep, but you can never be too careful with folk like this.
”Boss, when will this thing be done?” Sorren asked as he gazed at me, boredom barely concealed in his gaze. ”I want to explore!! I want to fight! I want to eat!!” he whined as he began to pout, his lips forming an ugly knot over his pudgy fat.
”Yes, Yes! It'll just take a few more minutes to truly bond, before it can be administered to the victim. Now if you don't shut up I'll tell you how it works!” I threatened to which both Fawkes and Sorren had a drastic change in expression, both holding explicit expressions of pure horror, Fawkes even looked as if he was about to bolt.
Immediately the duo quieted down both going back to activities that did not have any vocal influence, all the while I could be seen hunched over a smelly vat of unknown toxins, smiling evilly. (No I was not and neither am I high!)
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Terrick sighed tiredly as he tried, for the umpteenth time to wrench his hands out of the makeshift ropes that tied him to a sturdy wooden pole in the brig.
'damn Pirates! The whole lot of them are scum! I swear to god I will stick a dagger up that asshole's ass crack!' he roared as he imagined the smug face of a certain pirate, looking condescendingly at him. 'I swear I will ruin that pretty face!!' he thought, unable to stop himself from feeling a hint of envy toward the pretty boy that had played a role in his capture.
Finally he heard a soft crack sound from somewhere, hoping against hope that it was the shabby bindings on his hands he redoubled his effort, swinging his shoulders in wide arcs hoping against hope to tear through them.