Alfred, and Virgil stepped into view, the latter looking sullen and musing, the former with his eyes narrowed at me, as if expecting me to turn into a ghoul once more. Alice was not with them. I stand up and greet them. Virgil waved his hand, perhaps the greeting too. The stout man ensconced himself on the couch, still apprehensive towards me. It bothered me but I dared not bring it up lest he shoots me with the silver bullet again.
"So, Mr. Diggory," Virgil starts, interrupting the morose silence that had prevailed, "You know now the true nature of Ms. Alice's blood, I assume."
I nodded. "I'm a ghoul now," the words were bitter in my mouth, a tea I had trouble swallowing down, "is there…"
"Any way to reverse it?" Virgil said. "There is. I have told you, have I not? The cure lies in the extinction of the ghouls that now plague Yarim."
Kill all of them? but that's impossible. If what Virgil had said earlier was true, then Yarim was infested with these ghouls; it would take ten lifetimes to eliminate all of them in a city as large as Yarim. I started, staggering in my words, stumbling to find what I had to say, "Sir…Perhaps…" I scramble my mind, "perhaps that is…unreasonable; the time it would take is…beyond me"
"Listen kid," the wild-looking Alfred interrupts, "We got no time for hesitation. We have to batty-fang these creatures and only then will you get the cure."
I did not understand his expressions, perhaps he and my father would have gotten along so well. Always wanting to rush in headfirst into danger, all brawn and no brain, or if there was, it was only a tiny little. Virgil and some of my siblings shared the wisdom of calming these brutes down, and mollifying their nature.
"How do we do that then?" I ask, curious what he might propose we do. Perchance he was adroit and only hid that brilliance in the grimy exterior and crude talk.
"Damfino." Alfred raises his shoulders, posing the universal I-do-not-know body language. For a while I sat in utter confusion until I realized that it had been a contraction of Damned if I know. Yes. I was foolish to even expect anything from the dirty man, so I shifted my gaze towards Virgil. The old man's eyes were shuttered once more and it was the only time I wished for him to look me in the eye and tell me everything I needed to know.
"'Anima Diggory," he said, eyes still closed. "is the strongest Hunter'. Ms. Alice has said that of you. 'He will succeed.' I trust Ms. Alice and therefore, I trust you enough to bare the facts of the matter."
"Virgil," Alfred said. The look in his eyes is one of panic. But Virgil waves this off and tells him that it is okay to trust in me, to place their hope in me. The stout man exhales and motions for Virgil to go on.
"You see, Yarim's plague is controlled by an artifact, an artifact born from the dangerous curiosity of mankind. Scholars from around the world gathered in Yarim to produce it."
"What artifact?"
There was the slightest breath of hesitation from Virgil as if it pained him to say the words. "The Ichor of Mekaldis. Blood of the artificial god."
"Blood? Artificial god? I do not understand."
"And you will do no such thing," a melodic voice interrupted, the same melodic voice that had teased me a while ago. Alice. Her complexion had turned even paler than her hair, and her eyes looked tired and red-rimmed. Had she been crying? I did not know. "Virgil, I understand that you are eager to rid Yarim of the plague but revealing the source of it will get you killed."
"I am an old man, Ms. Alice," the old man said, rather depressed. "The Church has the power to kill me anytime it wishes."
"Then will you allow this boy to be killed?!" she said pointing at me.
Virgil's eyes widened and he sighed. "I beg your pardon, Ms. Alice. It was not wise of me to say that."
A silence once again crossed the room as if the angel Michael passed through it and quieted the screams and passions of our voice, leaving only peace in its wake. But the flame still burned in our hurts, desperate to shout, howl, and rage.
"Mr. Diggory," Alice said, not shifting her gaze from the old man. "Will you enter your room for now? Virgil and I have much to discuss."
I nodded and asked for Alfred's help who looked, though I may be mistaken, glad to escape the tense atmosphere that had descended the room. It was as awkward as when I had been a suitor for a princess in a certain land, and had accidentally found myself stinking, a piece of shit lodged in my pants that had the royalty crinkling their faces in disgust. But I digress.
I climbed up the attic and took a few moments to adjust my eyes in the abyss-like darkness that enshrouded me. A glimmer of moonlight slithered in from the window. However faint it was, it was beautiful and I would have admired it if it were not for Alfred's bothering me. Hey kid, he called, hemming to get my attention, thanks for that earlier.
I tilted my head in feigned ignorance but he told me that him repeating it would be the equivalent of making a stuffed bird laugh which I took to mean absolutely preposterous. Perhaps the stuffed bird and I would have laughed if he were not telling inside the dollhouse, reminiscent of a pervert who hid in the bushes to spy at girls.
He climbed out of view, and a sigh of relief escaped my lips. No more perverts in the room. I leaned on the jagged walls of the attic bricks, and gleaned outside. A cathedral, majestic as any edifice could have been, came into view, countless turrets and towers reaching for the sky, stained glass windows that saw each and every movement of the city. It was gloomy, threatening too, but I did not pay any more attention to it than I did the puddle-ridden steps of the unpaved streets of the sprawling city that was Yarim. And slowly, so slowly I did not notice it, sleep came, and so did the darkness.