Chereads / The Vulgar Dynasty / Chapter 66 - The Moonlit Musician pt. 2

Chapter 66 - The Moonlit Musician pt. 2

"Fucking gods dammit!" Reggie shouted as he fiercely kicked an empty water pale halfway across the street. "We fucking lost her!"

"Calm down Reggie. We--" Mordeki attempted to stop him but Reggie continued ranting with angry gesticulation.

"You don't understand how frustrating this is! I've slayed FUCKING DRAGONS--" This caused Ag's brow to raise. "-- I REFUSE to be bested by some dirt covered CHILD!"

"Reggie there is no need to be so ang--"

"Well I'm sorry if your feeble lizard brain--"

"Hhhhh. That's it." Mordeki sighed as he slowly formed an invisible purple rune in his hand.

"--can't even hope to comprehend--" Reggie stopped as his eyes flash purple. His body immediately fell limp with Ag just barely catching him. Ag looked at Mordeki with a smirk and singular laugh. "Good call."

"Let's just get back and see if we can find Bounty and Whistle."

Ag tossed Reggie over his shoulder. "We need to find Ave again while we're at it. I've recently stopped liking the idea of him wondering around alone."

XXXXX

Just after Bounty's injury.

XXXXX

"Come on lads. Over here." Rusty lead the two to a side door off of the Moonlit Musician's foyer. He lead them through a long winding hall with several rooms branching off. They barely had a moment to check the scenery, but that didn't stop Whistle from accidentally get a nice very into a women's changing room. "Oh la la~" He whispered.

Bounty kneed him in the back of the leg. "Go idiot, you can be pervy later."

"Ahh! Fine!..." Whistle trudged along still holding his comrade. "So Rusty. What kind of place is this?"

"Use to be a bar and brothel, lad, but some elf guy bought the business and turned it into some 'hostess club'. No more sex but we still make a better profit. I was the old manager of the bar during it's old days but I got promoted to manage everything after the new owner."

"Sound like quite the change."

"Didn't care for the change, but hells, I'm making bank now, so I can't really complain."

Bounty loudly let out a fake cough. "Riveting story, but can I... Augh... get treated already?"

"Yeah, yeah. We're almost there." Rusty led them to a metal door at the end of the hall. He pulled out a ring of keys and fidgeted around trying to get the one he was looking for.

He finally got it unlocked and lead the two into the room. It could be best described as one part erotic dungeon, one part doctor's clinic.

"I thought you said this wasn't a brothel anymore?" Whistle asked with a nervous laugh.

"It ain't. We got our own in house black market doctor. Figured you knew that when you said the code phrase."

"Yeah... We... We totally knew that..." Bounty said with a nervous pained smile. He then looked up to Whistle and whispered. "You gotta get us out of here."

"You're the one using secret code phrases for black market shit. You figure it out!"

"I swear if they harvest my organs I'm fucking killing you first!"

"I told you to stay away from the child, but nooooo, nobody listen's to Whistle."

"If you two are done bickering like a married couple the table's set up for your friend." Rusty interrupted pointing at a metal table in the center of the room that was lovingly decorated in old blood stains and bondage straps.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck..." Bounty quietly droned while Whistle laid him down on the table.

"Alright, it's opening minute and she's got one of the first shifts. She should be here any second." He looked up to Whistle. "Come on. She doesn't like an audience, and you look like you could use a drink."

Whistle hesitated for a moment before following along, leaving Bounty in the room alone.

"Don't look so nervous. Color is good at what she does. Your boyfriend is in good hands." Rusty gave a reassuring wink and a nudge to Whistle's hip with his elbow.

Whistle abstained from correcting him. Mostly because he was too worried to want to speak. And minorly because the word 'boyfriend' sounded nice in his ears.

Bounty, on the other hand, was surprisingly calm. 'I need to start charging people, I've woken up in enough similar situations I should at least get paid doing it.' He thought as he closed his eyes and accidentally fell asleep.

XXXXX

Bounty's eyes groggily opened to the sound of sloshing water and the scraping of wooden kitchenware. His eyes darted around to take in the sights. Stone walls, a window to sunlight and dense foliage, and a curtained off doorway. 'Is this home?' He thought. 'For some reason it feels a lot darker.'

He sat up from his straw bed. He rubbed is eyes and groomed his ears, but not to his own control. As if he was reliving a memory rather than a dream. But this memory was missing something. 'My rifle isn't on my workbench. Looks like mom tried to use the space to put her herb pots again.'

He walked out of the room through the curtain door into a larger expanse of his home. A living room and kitchen mix with more curtains leading to other rooms. An older grey tabby male catfolk swished his tail back and forth in the kitchen as he washed the dishes.

'Why's dad doing the dishes? Asshole isn't willing to lift a fucking broom let alone this...' Bounty unwilling wandered up behind his father. Slow and steady like the predatory cat he was. He lunged and hugged him from behind, startling him.

'No! Don't hug him! Bastard doesn't even disserve the time of day!'

"Oh hey, sweety. You scared me!" His father said with a laugh and smile.

'Something's seriously wrong here. He's never called me sweety. Just hearing him say it makes me want to vomit.'

Bounty said something to his father but couldn't even understand his own words.

"Don't worry sweety. Your mother's out hunting, so it's just me and you all day."

'What motherfuckery is going on here!? Mom doesn't hunt! She's NEVER gone hunting!'

Even though Bounty was angry and confused, his body was experiencing different emotions; relief, joy, and excitement.

'Everything is wrong here! That isn't may dad! This isn't my body! Nor are these my memories!'

"Is everything alright my child?" A feminine voice rang out. He suddenly found himself at the dinner table, his mother, an older, naturally rust colored caracal, sat across from him with a worried expression.

"What?" Bounty asked with his own voice.

"I asked you about your day, and then you got this look on your face like you saw a ghost." She said before taking a bite of the grilled salmon she made for dinner.

"Wh-where's dad?" Bounty cautiously asked looking around the room. He seemed to have full control for the moment.

Bounty's mother let out a sad sigh. "As per usual, I don't know. Likely he's going to come home drunk..." Her sentence trailed off as she didn't feel like more words were needed. Bounty quickly stood from the table, rocking it slightly. She looked up at him with a curious expression.

He walked around the table, leaned down with misty eyes, and pulled his mother into a heavy embrace. She let out a surprised gasp with her arms held up not sure what to do.

"Are you sick, my child?" She asked with a humorous tone after taking a second to relax.

"No." He sniffled.

"Then what's wrong? You only hug me when your sad or sick." She wrapped her arms around his back to reciprocate his embrace. He rested his head on her shoulder as he quietly wept.

"I just really-- missed you." He dug his eyes into her shoulder hoping he could hide his tears, but it only made them more noticeable.

"I wish I knew what you were talking about, sweety, but I haven't left the house all day." She moved a hand up to the back of his head and gently stroked him with a motherly pet. "But don't worry. Momma's not going anywhere."

She slowly built up a comforting pur. A soothing melody that eased her child's pain. Though they only held each other for a few minutes, it felt like hours had gone by. Bounty slowly pulled away and looked at his mother with a sad smile.

"I love you mom."

She reached up and gently grabbed his face at the cheeks. "I love you too Hunter. Feel better now?"

He got even more sorrowful. "I don't think I'll ever feel better."

Quite suddenly, Bounty's perception started fracturing and splintering like a mirror shattering in slow motion. He was filled with a sense of rage and despair. He was back in his room lying on his straw bed. Rifle on his workbench, and a familiar argument in the next room.

'Not this night. Anything but this night.'

His body moved without his control. Standing up in a desperate hurry he reached for his rifle. Again, everything fractured as the world darkened. His workbench was toppled over, potted plants littering the floor, no rifle in sight.

'It's the other me's visions again. Why is it so different? Why is it so dark?'

The Other Bounty's body didn't feel despair like he did. The Other was focused, with a murderous intention, as if they made the decision long ago.

The Other stepped from their room heading towards the argument. The vision fractured again. His rifle in hand he walked through the bright stone house. The argument grew even more heated, but he couldn't make out any words. He didn't want to know what they were saying anyway.

Fractured again. The Other continued, claws extended with a mission in mind. The argument reached it's climax, ending with a scream followed by a sickening thud. Punctuated by a body colliding with the wooden floor.

Fractured.

Bounty pushed away the curtain with his rifle facing forward. His hands were trembling. Over the collapsed body of his mother, blood trickling from her mouth, stood his father. Drunk, belligerent, remorseless. Bounty didn't care for the argument he and his father started. He already heard the words before.

Fractured.

The Other, however, was arguing with their mother as she stood over their father. 'Why is this so backwards? Who experienced this? Why is mom the bad one this time around?' Questions raced through Bounty's head as his perception kept swapping.

Fractured.

Bounty wrestled with his father over his rifle. Both were scratching; clawing for control.

Fractured.

The Other pounced at their mother slamming her to the floor.

Bounty's vision fractured for the last time as he witness both events with each separate eye.

Bang. Slice.

A gaping hole in his father's chest, and his mother struggling to breath from a slashed throat. The life in their eyes faded in morbid synchrony.

"Hunter..." Bounty's mother started.

"Huntress..." The Other's father started.

"...what have you done? You monster!" They cried in unison.