"Would you like a guide?" one of the girls in the lingering gaggle called. He glanced their way and actually saw them for the first time. In a group, he had dismissed them as children, but he had neglected to take into consideration the fact that the term 'child' was used from birth to age twenty. This was somewhat ironic because some married off their children as young as 14. Notwithstanding the fact his father's laws designated them as children, these young ladies didn't strike him as all that child-like. If anything, the hunger in their gazes made him uncomfortable.
"Sweet of you to offer, but I can manage on my own," He replied with a false smile and a polite nod.
"You might get lost," the girl insisted. He inwardly cringed as she shrugged her sleeve off one shoulder in a seductive ploy. It wasn't that the young lady wasn't attractive, she had a decent figure considering her circumstances, bright eyes and a lovely cascade of golden hair, but nonetheless her efforts had the reverse effect. Nothing disgusted Emerick more than the manipultive games women played to try and get what they wanted out of a man.
"I'm good," He stated, before turning and resuming his course down the battered hall. To his frustration, the girl and her gang started tailing him, though they had the sense to remain a respectable distance.
Some time passed. He poked his head into several more class rooms and had the pleasure of receiving similar reactions from everyone he met. Four such encounters later, his blood was boiling. Every encounter confirmed without a doubt that the institute needed to be torn down. Already, Emerick was working out what to do with the children that would be displaced.
Now that his presence was established the instructors were far more careful and guarded about their actions around him. It troubled him to know that the house of horrors had yet darker secrets that hadn't come to light. In particular, he worried about the purpose of the makeshift staircase that lead to a heavy iron door two stories up lurking in the back of the building. According to the blue prints, the odd structure shouldn't exist, and an eerie scent of blood and decay wafted from it.
As he wandered away from the ominous door, Emerick was dismayed to find his entourage was gradually growing. Normally Orval or Jacoby would be at his side, and either were intimidating enough to deter potential advances. While he was certainly capable of handling himself, on his own Emerick felt like nothing but a walking target.
By the time he'd been in the building a full thirty minutes, he felt like he was going to be devoured by a pack of wolves. The desperate young ladies, ranging in age from nineteen to the youngest who could have been no older than ten and likely younger, were growing bolder and pressing ever closer. At any moment, they could very easily morph from a crowd of silly fan girls to a rabid mob, and the thought didn't sit well with him for several different reasons.
Desperate to shake the crowd and eager to resume his work, he began taking turns at random. They were pretty relentless in their pursuit, so he started looking for narrow passages, or ones that were more difficult to traverse, hoping they'd give up and praying that he didn't find himself cornered. Just as he was about to give up all hope of accomplishing anything else that day, he found himself surrounded by quiet.
Startled, he glanced back to check on his fans. They had been pestering him relentlessly during the whole chase, bombarding with a storm of questions ranging from inconsequential to deeply personal—despite the fact he doggedly ignored them and refused to answer a single one—so the sudden silence was actually unsettling. They were all staring after him, but all progress had halted at the mouth of the hallway he'd just entered. It was as if there were an invisible barrier between where he stood and where they waited. He half expected to see their skin lift around the invisible boundaries as if they were pressed against a window. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what had caused them to halt so abruptly.
Gratified he had found some semblance of peace, he decided to continue further in. He was a little turned around, but there was some hope it might loop around and he could find a way to quietly exit until he could get one of his companions to accompany him. He was so engrossed in his thoughts of escape, he jumped when he suddenly found himself face to face with a petite young lady goblin, likely a hob based on her size and the keenness of her bright amber eyes.
"I must have you to thank," He realized allowed. She hadn't yet said a word, but he could see her sass just in the way she perched herself against the wall with her arms folded under her breasts.
"For what?" Her eyes narrowed as she appraised him with a cold and calculating glare. "I'm not the reason there's puke on your shoes, if that's what you're getting at."
He wasn't completely sure why, but she seemed annoyed by him. Based on her actions, he doubted she knew who he was, or if she did she clearly didn't care. It was actually a nice change of pace. He found himself intrigued.
"You're the reason they didn't follow me back here," He smiled in spite of himself. An idea was forming in his mind, one that might actually allow him to accomplish his purposes in coming to the institution.
"You mean that horde of noise makers?" She huffed, "Or perhaps you'd prefer them to be called your "adoring fans" or whatever."
"Noise makers works for me," He smiled. Her abrasive attitude was growing on him, and quickly at that. "But never mind them. What are you doing back here?"
"Working," She snapped, as though what she was doing should've been obvious. He took a moment to appraise her more carefully, and for the first time that day found himself a little hot under the collar.
Her jet black hair was unruly and uneven, but in an attractive way that framed her large, pointed ears and accentuated her small, round face very nicely as it rolled down one side of her neck and over one of her shoulders. Said shoulders and most of her neck were otherwise completely exposed, glinting in the faint lamp lite and drawing his eyes lower, where he discovered a maddening tease of cleavage covered by a tantalizingly tight tube top with ended just under the bust. From the waist down only invited more trouble, her pants open on the sides except the string used to lace them together which exposed even more of her sleek, earthy skin. He had to force his eyes back to hers to keep his thoughts from straying into territory—such as what that swaying tail might be capable of—far more dangerous than the building they were standing in.
"What sort of work?" He questioned, though he could hazard a guess. She was standing in a way that both lured and warned any interested parties, effectively emphasizing her assets while also making it clear they were still under lock and key.
"As if you don't know," she scoffed, as her own eyes wandered over him, sizing him up. "What is a rich prick like you doing here anyway?"
"I am supposed to be conducting an inspection, but my efforts have been somewhat impeded," He explained, jerking a thumb in the direction where he'd come from. Even if his fans couldn't been seen from their present location, he knew she was aware of what he was talking about.
"Sounds like a you problem," She yawned, then pushed herself off the wall, moving her hands to her hips. "Do you need something? If not, please leave. You're scaring off my customers."
"Actually, I could use your expertise," He smiled. He was being deliberately vague to see how she might react, but honestly he was most excited at the prospect of finding something that would keep the troublesome fan girls off his back. "If you're willing to offer it of course."
"I'm not cheap," She stated flatly. "And I expect payment upfront."
"What sort of services do you offer?" He couldn't help the flirty tone that crept into his voice. He knew Jacoby would roll his eyes at his behavior, but it hardly mattered.
He was quickly growing to like the young woman. It wasn't so much that she was hard to get, it was clear she had a price and she would render services if that price was met and he didn't really care much about whether or not she might be considered a "challenge." Such notions were for hot blooded males who were too obsessed with "the hunt" and other such foolishness. More, he was drawn to her straight-forward if not brutal honesty.
"Do you need me to spell it out for you?" She asked, even more exasperated. "What, are you a virgin? Here to find someone to pop your cherry?"
"Is sex all you have to offer?" He retorted. His question seemed to take her aback for a moment.
"I'm not interested in becoming your personal escort," Her eyes narrowed. "If that's what you're after, you're barking up the wrong tree."
He could've offered her the curtesy of being up front with her as she was with him, and at some point he would be, but she was so cute when she was frustrated he couldn't help himself. He decided he wanted to spend more time with her, eager to see what she might be able to do in helping him completely uproot the facility and curious to discover more about the other services she was offering.
"How much would it cost to have you accompany me for the rest of the night?" He asked. He really had her frustrated now. He could tell by the way her tail started beating the ground in place of a tapping foot. She really was too cute for his own good.
"I don't do lengthy services," She replied.
"Why not?" He questioned.
"I don't come cheap," she replied, "and what's the point of putting a price up when you know no one could afford it?"
"Would this be sufficient?" He slid his signet ring off his finger and offered it to her.
She leaned forward to get a closer look, and he felt a pang of desire as her eyes widened, practically sparkling, as she gazed at the gleaming gemstone. She was clearly intelligent and independent, but she was still a goblin, and still had a goblin's infatuation with shiny objects.
"No," She peeled herself away from the ring and looked him in the eye. He found it odd that her eyes suddenly dilated and a blush crept to her skin, but otherwise she seemed unchanged. "I don't trade trinkets. I only accept gold."
Little did she know, he had been testing her. The fact that, beyond admiring the jewels, she hadn't thought twice about the ring or the crest embedded into its surface, proved not only that she was completely oblivious to who he was beyond his having some kind of wealth, she had no skill in the art of appraisal. This was likely why she didn't deal in anything besides gold as it was a precaution to avoid being swindled.
"Then please, name your price," He insisted. "I want to know."
"You aren't going to drop the issue, are you?" She sighed. "Fine rich boy, I'll give you a price. For the whole night, I want 500 gold."
"Done," He said without batting an eyelash. Inwardly, he had to laugh. The base value of the ring he'd offered her was worth at least five times the amount she wanted, and that was before getting into the privileges she would've been afforded with the signet.
"Wait, really?" She looked dumbfounded. He could imagine why, a session with a professional whore would've been a faction of the price, and she was nothing but a institutionalized orphan lacking 'formal' training. Nobody would pay that amount, whether they could or not. Nobody but Emerick, that was.
"I expect it up front," She said, disbelief evident. "You'll get nothing from me until I'm paid in full."
"I tell you what," Emerick pulled out a coin purse, "I have three hundred on me, but the rest is at my room in town, and I'll give it to you when we arrive." She considered him for a moment before extending her hand.
"Deal," She said, taking his hand in a shake before accepting the bag of coins he offered her. "By the way, what's your name?"
"Emerick," He said with a smile. "May I ask yours as well?"
"Trixie," She replied. "So, should we get going?"
"I do have some more work to accomplish," He nodded, then extended an arm to her. She stared for a moment, as if unsure what to do. After awkwardly standing there for several minutes, she gingerly placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the hallway.
"Are you sure you want to go around like that?" She wrinkled her nose and stared pointedly at his shoes. "No offense, but you're really starting to stink."
"You're not wrong," he shrugged. He supposed he did have a few more days to the investigation, and with how things were he doubted he would yield much more that day. They were expecting him now, so he doubted he'd find more of the incriminating evidence he needed to collect to make sure they were punished to the full extent. He would also need pictures, and he didn't presently have a camera. He was also eager to change.
"What are you after exactly?" Trixie questioned. "Perhaps I could help."
"How much you going to charge me for it?" He teased her with a wink.
"In this case," She stared back with a straight face, "Nothing if it means you give these bastards what they deserve. Besides, all I'm doing is giving you a few names, times, and locations. It's not like its any real effort on my part."
"Has any one ever told you how completely and utterly adorable you are, my dear Trixie?" He grinned widely.
"Not really," Her cheeks colored and she looked away. It seemed she wasn't quite sure what to do with his compliment.
"Do you think you could get us out of here unnoticed?" He asked. Not only was the smell really starting to bother him, the acids were starting to agitate his skin when the fabric touched his legs. He thought he could tough his way through it, but now that he had been presented with an alternative solution, and an effective one at that, he desperately wanted to get a fresh pair of clothes.
"I could," she nodded slowly as though weighing her options. "It's a little out of the way from where we are now though."
They had passed back into the main hall, so he was in full view of his fans, but they were still keeping their distance, thankfully. Some of them were even hissing, like enraged birds or agitated cats. Trixie was even more a deterrent than he had hoped for. It brought a smile to his face.
"That's not a problem," He replied. "We have all night after all."
"Then let's go, I guess," She replied. He could tell the idea of leaving made her nervous, but she guided him regardless. She was a brave little thing, and it only endeared her to him further.
"Have you ever been on a proper date before?" He questioned.
"What do you think?" She asked sourly.
"I think we're going to have a lot of fun," he replied. And he meant it.