Hanford Inn,

The inn was quiet – serene even – there was no customer to be seen around. Felicity busied herself with polishing one of the wine glasses while she hummed a silent song to herself. Croid sat a stool away from her, watching her work. He yawned frequently, restless.

“Is it always this quiet?” asked Croid.

“Around this time, it gets kind of dull but this evening is going to be quite busy,” she replied.

Croid sighed gently. He hated being bored. He abhorred being idle.

“It’s only Monday. Friday evening is hectic and throughout the weekend we are also busy especially at night.” She explained, trying to cheer him up. “Sunday’s not too hectic though…” Felicity added.

He nodded with disinterest. He hated being without work to do. On other days, Felicity often talked with the locals just to pass time. But today, she had the company of Croid.

Felicity noticed Croid did not say much about himself. Little did she know he was hiding his true identity.

“If you’re so bored, the shelves need some dusting,” Felicity suggested, smiling.

“I may as well…” acceded Croid.

He was so bored he would rather keep occupied to pass time. He went into the small storage room situated behind the bar to retrieve the duster. Moriaty wandered around only to notice a used newspaper on one of the tables. She was drawn to the image on the front page. She quickly picked it up.

“Melthos, King of Thieves Brotherhood disbanded!”

Just below the bold letters of the headline was written “Wanted 10,000 Dollars!” The image of the criminal mastermind was attached to it as well.

“Nooo…it couldn’t be could it?” she said to herself. She looked towards the storage room where Croid was. Coincidentally, he turned around to briefly smile at her while he searched for the duster.

“Found it!” Croid shouted to alert her.

Felicity stared at the image in the newspaper disbelievingly. She perused the contents. Yes, her hunch was right: Croid was Melthos the bandit. She had heard stories of a bank robber leading a group of armed gunmen to wreak havoc on the southern states.

“Croid is Melthos” she thought to herself. “Melthos is the King of Thieves…” she muttered softly to herself. “A 10000-dollar reward…” she finally stated. She folded the piece of paper and tucked it away in a more secure place.

“It makes so much sense now. No wonder he wouldn’t say anything” she speculated.

Felicity found it hard to believe she was hosting a high-profile criminal in her home.

*****

The Lovecraft Family Mansion,

Near Hanford Cemetery,

The Outskirts of Hanford Town.

Moriaty ran into a federal officer as she took a shortcut on her way back home. She found it odd to see him going back in the way she was coming. Nevertheless, she greeted him politely, albeit she was surprised and bothered something was fishy.

Moriaty returned home to find the whole atmosphere gloomy and mournful. She saw the rest of the family all gathered, crestfallen. She saw her father on his knees, at the epicentre of the gathering. He was in pure pain. He was wailing loudly while tears flowed from his face. Agon stood beside him, trying to appeal to him. Moriaty was shocked; she had never seen her father in such a distressful state before.

She sashayed deeper into the hall as she closed the main door behind her. She had hardly bolted the door when she noticed a disturbed figure barely trying to stay on his feet. It was Basil. He appeared perturbed and turbulent, frustrated even by some circumstance. He wasn’t one to be quite joyful. However, this time around, there was some other force propelling his glumness – sadness. Sigmund stood by Marimbo. The door’s creaking sound announced Moriaty’s arrival to him. She stared at his face – he seemed bothered as well.

“What in heavens?” she thought.

“What’s...what is going on?” she asked.

Another member of the family, Salerius by name, stood close to the door on her arrival. Like Sigmund, he had a well-built body. However, he had black hair like his eyes. He seemed to be much composed than the others though – unassuming and quiet. He had to step up once he noticed Marimbo was quite distressed about the whole matter. Moriaty stared at her father in disbelief. She was thrown off by his seemingly lost behaviour. She turned to Salerius for a bailout.

“It’s Brock, he’s dead…” Salerius answered.

Moriaty knees quaked under her. The news had shaken her body to the very marrow that ran in her bones. She nearly sank to her buttocks as water gathered in her eyes.

“What, but how?” Moriaty muttered, shocked.

“It makes no sense. He’s the strongest man I know” replied Basil.

Moriaty and Salerius calmly strolled toward the other members of the family. Agon’s face was focused on the visage of the upset Marimbo. Moriaty entered, studying the gloomy features of every other member. She was worried as she wondered what was amiss. She stood before her father, her gaze darting toward Agon. She clenched her fist as her jaws thinned.

“So, what happened?” Moriaty asked.

“They found his body shattered at the south end of the town. The Federal Marshall that was here earlier believes it was the Confederates,” Agon revealed.

“I can’t believe some pesky outlaws could catch him off guard, Brock’s too much for that,” commented Sigmund.

Marimbo got to his feet, seeming a bit put off by the whole matter. He wanted some input and definitely some answers, fast.

Marimbo stands up in supremacy to explain the matter at hand.

“Brock left to track an enemy lingering within the forests!” he shouts. “It must have caught him off guard” he explained.

“Be realistic…who could have caught Brock off-guard?” a confused Basil asked, examining the reaction on the faces of his peers.

“A Skinwalker…” Salerius opined.

“Skinwalker?” asked Agon.

She had heard rumours of the Native American legend but never believed it was true.

“Yes, they are said to possess tremendous power! That is the only way I could see Brock getting overpowered” Salerius revealed.

“You’re probably right. Apparently, they can disguise themselves as humans too so it’s a plausible explanation” replied Agon.

“And if such proved valid then Brock would have met his end,” Salerius summarised.

Interestingly enough, even surprisingly too, he seemed to be awfully temperate about the whole situation.

“Damn it!” shouted Marimbo, out of the blue.

He then turns around and shakes his head. He hamstrings his upper leg then he slowly turns back around, shaking his head dismissively.

“I’ve known Brock since the beginning. He helped me establish this family and secure our wealth. I should have anticipated this. We aren’t in Europe no more, things work different here. There are forces even I am unsure about” explained Marimbo.

Salerius couldn’t hide his pain too; he took it upon himself to defend Brock’s integrity. He trudged toward Marimbo, placing his hands calmly on his shoulder to make him a solemn promise.

“I’ll track this monster for sure. You can count on that. I’ve already sussed out what to do to lure our fiend out.” Salerius vouched. Marimbo nodded, giving his consent and approval to Salerius.

Basil excused himself from their presence, leaving the others to debate. He didn’t want them to see him breaking down. He had cared for Brock, much more than a brother would. Deeply would be an understatement. He was going to drink himself to stupor, perhaps then, he would bury his agony under a bottle.

Moriaty tried to fight off the tears that clouded her eyes. She couldn’t. Once a tear streamed down her beautiful face, a torrent of tears wasn’t far behind. She closed her eyes to stave off the rest, wiping it off immediately. She opened her eyes, hoping Brock’s disappearance was merely a bad dream she was going to wake up from anytime from now. Basil was nowhere to be found. Her heart skipped a beat – she very well knew what Basil was capable of and how he would likely react to Brock’s demise.

The Himura Household,

Eastern Outskirts of Hanford Town.

As soon as Hans returned home from the outskirts of the town, he couldn’t think clearly. Heck, he had some explaining to do already – of how he hadn’t been able to get rid of any of the Lovecraft Family. As fate would have it however, he didn’t have to explain anything. He paid obeisance to Vellesca and Hemphia, who according to their usual actions, were guarding the doors. He made his way to the chief bedroom, to find Thorian. There he was, seating at his marble desk while he documented some vital information on some paper. He looked up just in time to welcome Hans.

“Himura…” Thorian called.

He catches Hans entering the room at the corner of his eye. He then leans back on his chair as he approaches.

“I couldn’t go through with the plan,” replied Hans.

“Apologies for my failure, it’s just…” Hans started to explain.

“Ahh…” Hans was interrupted by Thorian even though he was already in the loop about the result.

He recalled the chat he had had earlier with a Federal Marshal just minutes before Hans’ arrival.

“No matter, it worked out better this way,” reiterated Thorian. His words only succeeded in getting Hans more conflicted.

“I don’t understand. I failed you…” opined Hans.

Thorian exhaled deeply. He clenched his right fist before he placed it on his cheek, resting his whole weight on it.

“We’ve news.” He began. He paused for a second to weigh the reaction on young Hans’ face. Whilst you were gone a federal marshal arrived earlier to explain those mysterious deaths that have been taking place recently which we’re already aware of” Thorian explained further.

“What are you getting at?” asked Hans, still unable to comprehend what it was all about.

“Well let’s just say Brock’s demise is one of those mysterious deaths. His death was blamed on the Confederates” Thorian elaborated.

“What?” asked a bemused Hans. He was still trying as best he could to make sense of the whole situation.

“Well we’ve already explained to the Lovecrafts of a murderer on the loose, one who could be possessing powers that could rival our own. They’ll likely believe that was what slayed the mighty warrior. At least if we don’t look so suspicious…” Thorian added.

“I see…” Hans replied. It finally hit him that something was amiss. “This all falls together…” he began. “But how did you know I wouldn’t go through with the original plan?” Hans enquired.

“Well…” Thorian started, with a smile.

He crossed both hands across his chest, trying to exude his intellectual capabilities to the young vampire.

“I know what all of us are capable of. You have a knack for not being able to harm what doesn’t threaten you,” Thorian explained.

“Huh…?” replied a puzzled Hans.

“That’s true,” he confessed.

“When you intended to go out there, I already anticipated that you would never engage in assault unless they were vigilant. And I’m guessing they weren’t,” Thorian elaborated further.

For a moment, Hans was lost; it didn’t take long before he finally got the hang of things though.

“Well moving on, our conflict with the Lovecrafts is pretty much over,” revealed Thorian.

“Well let’s hope so,” Hans muttered.

“All we have to do is pretend we weren’t responsible. The town’s people will believe Brock got his what for by whoever is killing off political government members and the Lovecrafts will be searching for the enemy we both share” Marimbo cut in with an explanation.

“I think we should still stay cautious though. They’ll probably go along with this but you never know,” Hans suggested.

“Obviously, I already know that,” Thorian commented as he sought to summarise the entire endeavour.

“This all fell into motion and much better than I could have ever planned,” he chuckled.

Hans would have taken anything as an option over bloodshed – which he was certain would only have resulted into more bloodshed. The young vampire sighed, relieved. He couldn’t get the thought of the lovely Moriaty out of his head, no matter how much he tried.