Chapter 15 – Kicking it at Shroom’s

He was ready; a sack of tools rested in his left hand and his mind was clear of any extraneous thoughts. With a cloud covered sky and stagnant cool air, it was a solemn night as Suran, Keira, and Fletch stacked the iron gate door. The area, clear. The preparations, complete. There was but one thing to do: begin.

Suran jostled the gate handle. Locked, as expected. He turned to Keira and signaled to her with a nod of his head. No one here had the aptitude at picking a lock, so their next option was to melt the lock on the door. Keira stepped up and rummaged in a small sack at her side, and pulled out a flask. Carefully, she began to apply the solution around the lock. A low, sizzling noise broke the silence and a clear liquid oozed through the lock of the gate. Epilahyde it was called, an acid that reacts to metals such as iron, and it was one of the substances Keira obtained. Gradually, the lock began to shift in place as it deteriorated. With a plastic prod, she jumbled the lock in the door, easing its way out as the acid melted it out. A minute later, and what was left of the lock slid out of the gate. It didn't matter that no one knew how to pick a lock if they could simply melt its face and lay bare the bolt mechanism. With the prod, she jiggled the guts of the lock and caught the bolt, pulling it back and unlocking the gate.

Without a word, Suran took the lead and entered the lawn, heading towards the back of the house while hugging the perimeter. Suran wanted to find an entrance other then the front door, be it a window or a backdoor. The less conspicuous the entrance, the more likely it was for them to enter unnoticed and carry out the plan successfully.

So far, there was no one outside, guards or otherwise. It worried Suran that he had no idea how many hostiles to expect, but, as long as long as they do not detected, adjustments could be made. When the back of the home came into view, Suran stopped dead in his tracks. Attached to the estate was a wooden, covered patio and standing on top was a man smoking a pipe. A sword rested on his hip – clearly a hostile.

Keira was already creeping up on the man with inhuman agility, softly and swiftly gliding over the grass. She made not a single sound as she vaulted the patio ledge. Suran was amazed at how someone could cover ground so quickly and quietly until he realized he was not dealing with just any normal person; no matter how many times he saw her, he still could not get over the fact that she had a cat tail and ears. Even then, it was possible they could be fake, but they were way too animate and real to think otherwise. As she strangled the man from behind, stuffing his mouth so that no sound could come out and driving a dagger deep into his throat, Suran wondered when, if ever, he would come to terms with the world that surrounded him. Magic and cat girls were probably only scratching the surface and his mind was already having trouble adjusting.

But that was enough of that, he thought. He went up to the patio with Fletch and began to look over the body. The dead man's face was familiar; he was one of the five thugs who chased after him. If it was only these five guarding the house, there shouldn't be a problem he mused. Rummaging through the man's pants, Suran found a chain of keys. He took the keys and went to the door and began trying to find the right one after testing the knob and finding it locked. The last key was the right one, and the door unlocked with a click.

Before opening the door, he turned to the two beside him and instructed them, “Remember, only take down those that are armed. Restrain everyone else.” They nodded. They already knew the plan: clear the house starting from the bottom, secure Lord Shroom, and search the home for any intel while Suran interrogates Shroom. Suran began the countdown with his hand starting from five, clutching the door handle. When he reached zero, he opened the door and stepped to the side, letting Keira and Fletch both move in swiftly. Suran followed them in.

He joined the two in crouching under a counter. The back door led them straight into a spacious kitchen, completely dark with no source of light. In the distant corridors of the home resonated the sound and voices. It acted as their only guiding light. Slowly, they found their way through the house as the voices grew louder and louder. Down a corridor, a faint, warm light flickered, and, as they approached, the voices grew clear.

A raspy, slurred voice was speaking, “Pass me 'nother drink...”

A second voice responded with a chuckle, “How many 'as it been now?” Liquid filling a glass sounded through the air.

“Don' know.” The first man gulped a few sips down. “Don' care.”

“Glad we skipp'd out on patrol an’ left it to Herman.”

“Schmuck wouldn't know an easy time if it punched him in the face,” the other man snorted. “He can sit out all he wants, ain't nothing going to happen out here. No one cares for that fat pig upstairs anyways...” Glassed clinked and the sound of cups being poured filled the air again. The two went silent with the only noise being the flickering of a candle or fire and the swigging of drinks.

Suran and Keira made their way to the room while Fletch watched their backs. It was a dimly lit room, the only source of light being a fireplace at the far back. Between Suran and Keira and the fireplace was a couch with two men lounging in it, periodically drinking from large goblets. Off to the side where two swords resting on a chair. It was clear these two were to be taken down as well, so with haste, Suran and Keira crept up to the two with their weapons drawn. At the same time, they both jumped up from behind the couch and covered each man's mouth with one hand, and killed them with their weapon in the other hand; Keira stabbed the throat again while Suran plunged his sword deep into the man's chest cavity. A closer look at their faces allowed Suran to identify them – they were of the same group of five.

The three cleared the rest of the lower level of the manor. A few bedrooms, a study, living and dining rooms, and a few storage rooms were all that was downstairs. At the front of the house was an arching staircase, and they began their ascent to the next level. They crowded just below the last step and scanned the adjacent corridor for any life. There was none. Feeling comfortable, they flooded out into the corridor. The hallway stretched far down both ways with various doors on its face.

All seemed well until a door creaked out in the silence. Behind Fletch, a wooden door swung open and a groggy man walked out to the sounds of flushing. Fletch spun around, body slammed the guy, and quickly silenced him. Or, that is what should have happened. Instead, Fletch completely panicked and shrieked like a little girl as he spun around with his great sword and began smashing the guy into the ground. His screaming did not let up as he continued to mash the pulpy remains of a man over and over again. His swings slowed down and he began to pant. Taking deep breaths, he looked at Suran and Keira. “What?” He gasped at them. “The guy scared me,” he nervously said, pointing at the red mess all over with his bloodied sword.

The stealth option was blown. Suran could hear confused voices and people moving about the home. “Enough sneaking around, just clear the home.” With his sword drawn, Suran took off down the hallway, kicking doors open with his boot and surveying the rooms for anyone. Fletch composed himself and went down the other way with Keira.

Door after door he busted, only to be greeted by empty rooms. Suran worked his way down the corridor and went around a corner. There were no more rooms on the left side, windows lining the wall instead. He walked down the new hallway and burst open the first door on his right. Another empty bedroom. With a click of his tongue, he made his way to the next room when down the hallway a tall, lean man stumbled out of the last door down.

“The hell is going on?!” The man questioned with sword in hand. He looked down the hallway and saw Suran, “Who are you?!” It was still the dead of night. A cloudy overcast meant there was no moonlight shining through the windows, the hallway in near complete darkness.

Suran said nothing and instead approached quickly with his weapon. His eyes had already adjusted to the dark, so he nimbly traversed the hallway without losing his step. Alarmed, the man tried to gather his bearing in the dark to stand his ground, but he was not ready for Suran. Suran traveled the breadth of the hallway in an instant and stabbed his sword into the man's gut. The man squirmed on the sword, dropping his sword and shrieking in pain. Suran stepped back and drew his sword and the man was still breathing – doubled over in pain – and clutching his stomach. With the flick of his wrist, Suran reversed his sword around and drove it down into the man's back. He removed his sword and the body flopped onto the ground. With that out of the way, he went back to clearing out the rooms.

In the middle of the corridor was a different door; it was an older, darker wood and it numbered two for the entrance. On each side of the double-door were light fixtures that lied dormant. Instead of bursting through the doors like the others, he opted to proceed cautiously with this one. He grabbed onto the handles and opened the doors. Inside was a luxurious room. A massive canopied bed sat directly in front with massive wooden dressers. To his right was a fat man flailing towards him with a metal rode. Suran casually knocked it out of the fat man's hand and sent him tumbling to the ground. It was Shroom. He began crawling on the floor away from Suran, whimpering and crying along the way. Shroom settled himself with his back to a corner, sniveling like a baby.

“Ah, Lord Shroom. I've been looking for you.”

“I-I-I-I-I'm not him! You've g-g-got the w-wrong person!” The fat man on the floor cried out.

“In that case,” Suran stepped forward with his sword, “I don't need you then.”

The man let out a shrill, “Nooooooo! I was lying, I'm Shroom! Please don't hurt me, take whatever you want. Money, valuables, just please don't hurt me.” Shroom wailed on the ground and began sobbing.

Suran walked over to Shroom and smacked him on the head with the butt of his sword, knocking him out. Out of his bag of tools on his back, Suran took out some rope and hogtied the unconscious Shroom. He left him there and walked out of the room to find Fletch and Keira. He found them wrapping up business on the other side of the home. There was one armed fellow who was eliminated, and they secured and gagged the three servants of the home.

“All good?” Suran asked as he approached them.

They both nodded and Fletch spoke up, “Everything is tied up 'round here. All the other rooms have been searched and the house is clean.”

“Good. Next, you two search for any information. Documents, papers, notes, and so on. Anything that will help us. Meanwhile, I will set up a room for Shroom.” Keira and Fletch were just walking away when Suran remembered one thing, “Also Keira, could I have those substances I asked for earlier?” She came back and handed him a small pouch that had several vials in it. Most of the vials were poison. Not lethal, but had various side effects to make Shroom uncomfortable and in pain rather quickly. Of course there were some antidotes and some healing medicine, but these would probably be a last resort anyways.

The three split up. Suran searched the home and found an empty cellar. He set up a chair and a candle to barley light the middle of the room. Next he went and retrieved Shroom who was still out cold, and retied him to the chair and blindfolded him. As he laid out the various tools he brought, he was ready to use unsavory means to get the information he needed if it came to that. Using his own chair, he waited for Shroom to wake up.

“W-where am I?” Shroom softly spoke out after some time. He tried to move in his chair, but found all of his limbs were restrained. “Oh god, please don't hurt me,” he whimpered after a moment.

Suran rose from his chair. It was time to work. “Answer my questions and you will leave here fine.”

“What, What do you want to know?”

“Where is Annabelle?” Suran asked, pacing around him in the darkness.

“No, no, no, no, no! I can't answer that.” Sweat began to bead on his face, clearly under pressure.

“Are you sure?”

“If... If they knew I said anything, the consequences would never be the same!”

Suran walked up, cocked his arm back, and punched him hard in the face. Shroom rocked in the chair and a tooth came flying out of his month.

Shroom shrieked in pain and screamed, “What was that for?”

“Listen, Lord Shroom, we are giving you an opportunity here. Answer our questions and we can be done. If you don’t, we will continue to see what will give first: your mind, or your body.

Shroom shook his head and stuttered unintelligible words in disbelief. He was not giving in it seems.

“Nothing to say?” Suran frowned. He rummaged through his tools and picked out pliers and slowly walked towards Shroom. A long time ago, Suran had to do similar things, but found it distasteful, often leaving it to others. He kneeled down to Lord Shroom, took a pinky, and began crushing it with the pliers. Lord Shrom shrieked in pain. Even though he derived no pleasure from the activity, he had no qualms conducting it if there was no one.

A knock on the door interrupted Suran. He let go of the pinky, and the smashed finger twitched. Shroom had tears rolling down his face and dribbling onto the beard on his neck.

“I will give you a minute to think about it some more.” Suran swiftly left the room to answer the knock. It was Keira and Fletch on the other side, both holding several sheets of paper.

“We have found some information,” Keira said, presenting the documents to Suran. She explained further, “They are various records and correspondences that link the Lord to illegal activities such as bribery and racketeering.”

Suran took the papers and rummaged through them. There was plenty of shady information recorded here, from sketchy book keeping to letters of bribery and coercion. Unfortunately, there was not much identifying information in terms of people or locations that could help pinpoint anything. “Did you see anything with Annabelle in them?”

Keira shook her head, “A mention here or there, but no location.”

“I see,” Suran mused. He still had a way to make these documents useful, so he held onto the papers and went back inside the room. ‘So, Shroom, do we need to pick up from where we left off?”

Shroom’s eyes lit up, “Oh god, no! No, please. I-I-I’ll tell you everything, just please let me go…”

Suran pulled up his chair and sat in front of him, “Good, that’s what I want to here. We will let you go, but be aware we will be looking for your continued assistance.”

‘W-w-w-what? What do you mean?!”

“I’m sure if word got out about your illegal activities, not many people would be happy.”

“There is no way!” Shroom exclaimed, “You can’t prove anything.”

Suran waved the papers up in front of Shroom, and began reading some of the memos and contents. His face went pale.

“So, as you can see, the documents exists,” Suran said. “I hope we can work something out.”

If Shroom was a turtle, he would have retreated into his shell, never to return. But now, he was stuck. “V-very well. I understand. Unbind me and then we can talk.”

“Talk first.” Suran denied his request

“Fine. Anna is at pier 21, warehouse 3. She should not be guarded too heavily, but that entire area is a Namnoc complex so who knows what you will find. Hopefully not the Terrible Ten.”

“Terrible Ten?”

“They are the top enforcers of Namnoc. No one in their right mind would want to deal with them – not even Kingdom agents want to mess with them.”

“My goal isn’t to fight Namnoc but to rescue Annabelle. If they are in my way, then I will deal with them.”

“Good luck getting around that. Now, if there is nothing else, would you mind letting me go?”

“I will, but, before I do, remember what will happen if you talk to anyone about this, especially Namnoc. I’m sure no one – not the authorities nor Namnoc – would be pleased to know of your exploits.”

“I know, I know. Please, let me go. My wrists are hurting and I need a change of clothes.”

When Suran went over to unbind Shroom, he found out why Shroom needed a change of clothes; besides the sweat that stained his shirt, he pissed his pants. He let him go and told him, “Again, remember that you and your staff adhere to our ‘agreement’ here.”

“I will!” Shroom hurriedly waddled off.

Suran exited the cellar and went back up to ground level. He found Keira and Fletch patiently waiting.

“I know where Annabelle is,” He announced. Fletch let out a sigh of relief and Keira easer up her tensed posture. “Tomorrow, I will scout out the area and make the necessary plans, but for now, lets us go rest.”

The three made Lord Shroom explain the agreement to his servants, who were slaves themselves. Releasing his staff, they left the home with the damning documents in hand. Keira led them back towards Reginald’s home to prepare for the next day. Suran wanted the rest; he was going to be busy tomorrow. He was one step closer, and, now, rescuing the girl now seemed completely plausible. This whole endeavor ended up being more work than he anticipated. Fighting a criminal organization, stalking people and raiding their homes, even, to an extent, torturing someone. Doing these things made him feel odd, but it kept him busy, and that satisfied him.