Hells Acre - 2

The sound of piano music, voices, and agitated horses awoke Librarian. He opened his eyes to reveal a haphazardly decorated room, where old photographs of people he didn't know hung framed against peeling pink wallpaper. His back felt unusually comfortable, which led him to believe that he'd actually fallen asleep in a bed. Stretching his legs, he discovered that he'd fallen asleep fully clothed, with his right hand gripping an empty bottle protectively. The taste of vomit and alcohol caked his tongue and teeth. Sweat covered every inch of his skin, and rolled down his limbs. He dropped the bottle on the floor, let it roll for a few seconds, then rubbed a fingertip accross his teeth to clean off the grime.

"Damn boots.." He muttered, kicking his legs off of the bed and on to the floor.

A low sigh escaped his mouth as Librarian stretched his arms toward the ceiling, and let them drop to his sides. The bedroom seemed strangely empty, considering his usual company. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he glanced around until his eyes landed on a familiar color.

"Hey. Hey kid," he grunted, kicking at what looked like a pile of clothes on the floor.

A human head suddenly emerged from the pile, revealing it's owner; an adolescent boy, about fifteen years old, with hair the color of dead grass. "S'it time to go?"

Librarian rubbed the mucus from his eyes, "Yeah, good a time as any."

Dimitri heaved himself out of the pile of clothes, all of them his own, and began throwing them on, layer by layer. He had gone to sleep in a pair of dingy gray shorts, and as he stood, the bones in his scrawny frame poked out at odd angles. Ever since Librarian met him, as a petulant boy with nowhere else and no one else, Dimitri looked thin, malnourished, and pale. If he hadn't the will and the strength to keep up with him, Librarian would have left him behind years ago.

The older man remembered such an occasion. He brought Dimitri with him from the monestary where he'd been hiding, and they came across a small town. The women there, most of them prostitutes, were more than willing to take Dimitri off of his hands. They offered him everything from gold, to booze, to more flesh based goods. But Librarian knew the sort of work they intended to put Dimitri in, and figured that he'd be better off dying of exposure out in Hells Acre than becoming some pervert's plaything.

It was the same, anywhere they went. Eventually, Librarian bought a new horse and let Dimitri keep the old one. The boy's caring hand kept it living longer than Librarian expected, and for years, they rode together through each of Librarian's jobs.

"What's on the books for today?" Dimitri asked, buttoning a long-sleeved shirt over his bare white chest.

"Ngh.. nothing special," the older man replied sullenly, rubbing his eyes harder. In reality, he'd forgotten why they even woke up in that room. Who they were chasing at the time was lost with the memories of the previous night.

Dimitri blinked with disbelief, "Nothing special? You told me she was worth ten pieces, at least!"

Ten pieces? Librarian stood up straight, "Ten.. ten. Right. Yeah, well, ten ain't nothin'," he lied, recalling the reason they had come to this place. "Look, just get dressed and get your horse. We gotta ride. I got a feelin' she dodged outta here last night."

His young companion nodded, and quickened his pace in dressing. Most of his clothes were oversized, but they were good enough to keep him from being exposed to the unrelenting sun. Librarian waited until he left the room to reach into his coat, and pulled out a photograph. Wiping away the sweat from his thumb, he peered into the eyes of a woman with a shaved head. She smiled like a cheeky bitch, and carried a sawed-off shotgun that looked too big for her dainty hands. Around her neck was a crusifix.

"Just you wait, missy," Librarian mumbled, pocketing the picture. "You ain't gonna be smilin' much longer."