Wrong Side of Heaven, Righteous Side of Hell

His dreams took no real form but he felt tense and panicked until his lids cracked in the quiet morning. His chest tight and his head swimming, he sat up with a groan. His body was curiously… unargumentative. His ribs didn’t hurt nor did his ankle or his hip. He pushed the blanket down only to gawk at the sealed gashes on his flesh.

He unlaced the gauze from around his wrist and shoulders and twisted his arm first to one side then to the other. His shoulder didn’t protest in the slightest. He kicked his legs out to the side of the bed and rested both feet on the floor. He braced himself for one hell of a lick of pain in that sprained ankle but when he put his weight on it… it held steady.

What the hell had been in that concoction?

Garrett caught sight of a new set of clothes bundled on a chair across the room. Well they were old clothes but they were new to him. He decided if he could just make it over to the clothes he would be fine for the rest of the day. His newfound health would have not been a temporary fix after all.

He was slow as he crossed the room, not trusting a single step but soon he had clothes on his back and boots on his feet. Though they were the same obscenely loud ones he had been given before.

He glanced at the door and then to the closed window in the room. Perhaps escape was beyond his grasp at this time. But with Daud’s men sleeping he might just have enough time to send a message to Basso that he was still breathing.

He resolved to at least try as he may never get a chance alone again.

He padded as quietly as the boots allowed over to the window and pried it open. There was a tiny balcony and a walkway just a boost up. He stepped onto the ledge and climbed up to the walkway.

It was much later in the day than he had originally assumed. The sun hung low in the sky and to the west, so night was approaching fast. Didn’t that just make it his lucky day? Darkness was his best asset after all. Still, he needed to ensure he could make it to a black market shop, find this Edmond Basso had told him about and have a message out before anyone knew he was gone.

He darted across the makeshift walkway and followed the route he’d used upon coming there as quickly as he dared. He was unsure if Daud posted guards during the day, though what man in his right mind wouldn’t? And if he did, where they could be posted. And now that Garrett was aware that his men could manipulate the arcane he was being extra cautious.

He made it back to the city proper just as the sun was cresting over the water. His breathing hadn’t changed and he felt ten times better than he’d felt in a long time. The exertion not plaguing him but rather surging him forward. He would have to try to replicate that potion. It was a hell of a cure-all. He almost felt bad for bashing it.

He headed for the more rundown areas of the city. If there was a black market shop it wasn’t going to be smack dab in the middle of Guard Patrol Alley or any other area the fine folks frequent. It would be in the part of town you hesitated to go to at night. Unless of course it was absolutely necessary. Like if you were dying for example, and even then, could it really not wait until morning?

It was easy to find from above and when he heard the gunshots and barking of the gangs below he knew he was in the right spot. He slipped into one of the old buildings through a window and slinked down to the lower levels making sure to mostly keep out of sight. He stumbled out of the building and into a rundown street, not knowing who was dangerous and who was a harmless bystander Garrett resolved to play it safe and avoid everyone.

It only took a little while to spot the shop marker, and he sighed in relief when he did. He needed some luck... yesterday would have been best but he’d settle for a little today.

He slipped into the vestibule where a wall and a small window cut the shopkeep off from their less-than-refined clients. When he caught sight of a woman he nearly growled. The universe was not on his side today. He took a few breaths to compose himself and then stepped into her line of vision. Her eyes widened slightly but to her credit she didn’t jump or gasp, considering her clientele was a good practice.

You had to be tough to stick it out in this business.

“What can I do... for you?” her eyes cast over his body with just a little too much interest.

Ugh… He suppressed the urge to slink back, the attention making him uncomfortable. It wasn’t that she was unattractive, he simply didn’t like… anyone really. Male, female, undead: all to be avoided at all costs. He didn’t like to be seen with his clothing on, he couldn’t even fathom being naked in front of other people.

“I need… Edmund. You know him?”

“Edmund?” she spat, her face suddenly harshening. “That joker ain’t got anything I don’t got.”

Yes, he does. “I’m an old... friend.”

She cocked her eyebrow at him and it was all he could do to not knock her lights out.

“Fine. I need him because my dad told me to find him if I’m in trouble. Lady. I’m in a lot of trouble.” He was hoping because she was female she’d buy into the ‘poor little guy’ act. It helped that he was sticking close to the truth, Senior had taught him how to lie and Basso had told him what tells he needed to suppress.

When she unfolded her arms and sighed, he knew he had her. “Okay kiddo. I get ya. Edmund’s shop is... Do you know where the distillery district is?”

He sighed and shook his head, wilting his shoulders and making himself appear smaller.

“It’s okay kid. Here,” she reached under the counter and rummaged for a minute before holding a finger up at him and retreating into the back. She emerged after a brief minute and dropped a map on the counter. She spayed it out and took out a lovely gold tipped, gilded pen from her pocket.

Which Garrett stared at for just a little too long, his fingers tingling in anticipation.

He shook his head and berated himself, message first. Priorities. He needed to keep his priorities rooted in place. Afterward he could steal to his heart’s content.

“We’re here.” she said pointedly as she circled a small building on the map. “Cut through this alleyway--” she looked up at him suddenly, “How opposed are you to climbing into people’s windows?”

“Not opposed at all.”

She shrugged, “Good, there’s a little old guy who lives on the ground floor of this building, you go through his place you’ll avoid the wall of light here--”

“Wall of light?”

She snorted, “Don’t touch those, they’ll burn you to a crisp. There won't even be a body left to dispose of.”

Yeah. One. Hundred. Percent. Done. With. Dunwall.

“Like I said, old guy is like five years older than god, sleeps all the time, and likes him some gin so should be a snap. Hang a right and follow the street till it forks, go left and follow that road till you see Granny-Rag’s place on the corner. You can't miss it, it’s the most rundown building on the block. One more left and your in another alley, Edmund’s place is there.”

She capped the pen and let it drop on the counter, making Garrett cringe. She didn’t catch the motion, just blew on the ink to dry it a bit and handed him the map. “Here ya go. Don’t go getting lost. Not everyone in this city is as… accommodating as I am.”

He took what was offered, the map that is, not the subtle offer to share a bed for the night. “Thanks.” he said quietly, “I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime sweetie.” Her eyes did that roaming thing again, “Any. Time.”

Never again. He thought as he raced out of there. He was over in the alley she mentioned before the weight in his palm registered. He shut his eyes and lifted his hand into his field of vision. Then peeked at it.

The gilded pen.

Good to know he could keep his priorities straight.

He cursed as he tucked the pen away. He briefly contemplated stopping by his room that he had stashed the small amount of loot he’d stolen on that cursed bracelet job. He could probably fence it and… do what with it? Give the gold to Daud? Not damn likely.

He decided to let his stash lie for now. Better to have it hidden than in Daud’s hands. He would not give up his hard earned gold unless he had no other choice.

He followed the path the shopkeep had mentioned. Glancing out of the alleyway and toward the “Wall of Light” the shopkeep had mentioned. Two prongs were adhered to the building sides, and the prongs glowed with a harsh white light. There was a faint shimmer flowing between the two prongs. So this was a wall of light. He wondered briefly how it worked but he was on a clock so he made a mental note to recall the image at a later time to see if he could figure it out.

Ideally, he’d love to take it apart to see how it works but his curiosity would simply have to wait. Until he was dispatched to do a job for Daud.

He sunk back into the alley and headed back toward the window he had only glanced at before.

When he came up to a window, on the bottom floor of the old man’s building, he splayed his hands against the pane and pushed up slowly. The window screeched a little making Garrett cringe and glance around the inside of the room. Nothing stirred so he continued to force it up until there was enough of a crack to fit his fingers through. Once the window was open he was inside and had it shut as quietly as the thing allowed.

He then dipped into a crouch and shut his eyes and forced his ears to focus on the sounds around him. Someone upstairs was pacing, the creek of the floorboards above him told him that. Heat was being tunneled through the piping running throughout the house. The old man was in a room not very far off from Garrett, snoring loudly. Garrett kept still as possible and picked apart every noise he could before he allowed his eyes to open.

His night vision had considerably heightened in the time he had waited, which was good. The wall of light had him seeing spots for a second there. Obviously things were much different in this city.

He crept over the shabby rug, studying the room as he went. The old man must have been nobility at one point, but it was safe to assume his riches had long ago been depleted. Judging from the amount of missing knickknacks, bare curio cabinets that used to house precious things, and the curious lack of upkeep. There were rooms that were boarded off and parts of the ceiling that were caving in slowly. The roof bowing in places where water no doubt collected. One more good storm this guy may be out of a home.

Finding his way out of the place was simple enough, most of the unnecessary rooms were closed off and it was easy to find the window to the other alleyway, past the wall. Mostly because the window glowed like a bonfire was outside due to that contraption.

This window opened smoothly and luckily the old man was none the wiser. And why should he be? So long as no one crept in and killed him, it wasn’t as though he had much left to lose. Or maybe he was hoping for the knife to put him out of his misery?

People were funny like that. Some of them believed in the Gods so strongly that they didn’t risk taking their own lives no matter how bad it got. On the other hand they were fine with putting themselves in dangerous situations.

He’d learned enough in the orphanage that the beyond could be a terrible place if you were evil. And it was puzzling to him as a child that taking one’s own life was considered one of the most evil acts that a person can commit. It didn’t make a lot of sense but then if someone had explained it to him, he doubted he would have listened. He’d been a stubborn child.

Still was.

He kept himself moving as quick as he could. The patrolling guards now sparse at best. The rundown building on the right was easy enough to find, the shuffling woman outside he assumed was Granny Rags was muttering to herself and let out a cackle as he passed. “Ooh watch the rooftops, clever boy. His eyes are on yooooou…”

He tried not to shiver as her blind eyes zeroed in on him and a toothless smile stretched across her withered cheeks. “He finds you cur-io-us!” she sang.

He kept his back away from her as he padded down the road. Her eyes continued to follow him.

“It’s not me you need to fear, clever boy. And He is not who you think.”

Garrett glanced at the rooftops above him but saw nothing and she let out another howling cackle.

Great. He thought. I fell for a crazy lady’s ramblings.

He shook his head and ducked into the alley, hoping he didn’t see that blind stare in his nightmares. Crazy old bat…. Still he couldn’t help but keep an eye on the rooftops as he passed, something didn’t feel right. It felt as though he was being watched.

Relief flooded through him when he noticed the graffitied hands on the side of a building, with a brazen black arrow pointing to a basement entrance. He marked where the moon was in the sky and cursed, it was well into the night. At least two hours had passed and it was hard to imagine no one had come to check on him yet. He just had to keep moving forward and hope that this worked out to his benefit.

He trotted down the brick stairs and was greeted by another vestibule with a similar window/barrier set up as the first. An older man with spectacles sliding down his nose as he took notes in a leather bound book was settled behind the window.

“Edmund?” Garrett ventured.

The spectacles flashed in the candle light as he lifted his chin, the magnified glass making his eyes appear much larger. “Hum? Oh, yes, yes boy come in. Looking for something in particular? Or can I tempt you with a Spring Razor? Hum? Guaranteed to get the Guard off your back.”

“What? No, are you Edmund?”

The man nodded, “Well I ain’t his mama, whatcha need?”

Garrett checked to make sure no one else was coming before closing the door behind him and moving over to the man. “Do you know Basso?”

“That old gaffer? Sure do. What business do you have with him boy?” Edmund’s spectacles shimmied down his nose as he nodded and he pushed them back up with a grin.

“He’s my fence. I need to get a message to him.”

“Ah! Why you must be the infamous Garrett he went on about in his last letter! If you’re as good as he claimed, could you prove it for me?”

Garrett suppressed a groan, “I really don’t have a lot of tim--”

“Shouldn’t take a master like you too much time, eh? Come on now, been a while since anyone has been able to prove their skills ‘round here.”

Garrett glanced at the door again. “What is it you want?” he asked, thinly veiled irritation in his voice.

“Rob me.”

Garrett could only blink at the man. “Beg pardon?”

“See if you can rob my shop without me knowing it. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Fun?”

He nodded vigorously and held up a gold pocket watch. “My pap gave this to me. Got this message inscribed on the inside. If you can sneak this out of my pocket, I’ll give you whatever you want from my shop.”

“Including a bird to send a message to Basso?”

His head bobbed and he clapped his hands together, “Well go on. Get to it.”

XXX

Garrett would never be able to figure out in a million years why Basso insisted on having contacts with crazy people. Edmund certainly fit the bill. When Garrett had “proven himself” the old geezer cackled like a lunatic and stuffed a piece of parchment into one of Garrett’s pockets, propped a pen on Garrett’s ear and shoved a bird into his hands.

“Careful with Lord Plucky. He bites.” he warned.

And man did he ever.

Garrett glared at the little jerk as he set down the tin pen and blew on the ink in the crumpled up letter. He then folded it up as best he could. He didn’t want to get near the damn bird and his razor beak again, four of his fingers were already smarting. It cocked its head at him and chirped twice, fluffing its feathered chest to look bigger.

Challenging him.

Daring him to come near again and get bit. “Nice birdy…” he said in the most charming voice he could muster. “I’m just going to put a little letter in your pouch.”

He held one hand out to distract it and with the other he attempted to tuck the letter up in its compartment without getting bit. No such luck. The bird knew what he was doing. True to its name the little shit plucked at Garrett’s fingers.

“Yeah, okay. Not playing anymore.” he snatched the bird up and shoved the letter in the pouch, as it squawked. He buttoned it in and ground down on his molars as his fingers bled with the bird’s ire.

“Hey, I was going to be nice, you little bastard, but you decided to be ornery. Now go find Basso. Bite him, you little shit.” he tossed the bird in the air and he naturally fluttered his wings and glided out toward the river.

He sighed and climbed onto the ledge of the rooftop and sat for a moment.

He would have to get back to Daud soon. Before he was discovered missing. He just needed to breathe for a moment after all that craziness. This city was cursed. He didn’t want to spend a year here. Something had to be in the water… something that poisons the mind.

He rubbed at his eyes and revelled in his first moment of relief he’d had in days.

It didn’t last.

A gunshot rang out into the night and the squawk of a bird had Garrett scanning the sky for Lord Plucky. Fwap! Sounded in the distance and Garrett stiffened as a cold blade rested on his shoulder.

“I thought we agreed on a year. Wasn’t that right?”

Oh no… “Daud.”

“I just know you weren’t defying me by sending a message out to someone who may have some interest in saving you.” Daud’s voice sent a tremor of irritation through Garrett.

He shook his head and pursed his lips. “No one is coming to save me. Someone needed to know that I was--” the blade quickly bounced up to his jawline.

“Choose your next words carefully.”

“...Alive.” Garrett finished. “I will remain that way by the end of the night, won't I?”

Daud was quiet for a long while, the blade a tangible and ever present threat. “I’m uncertain. You seem to be more trouble than you are worth.”

“I wasn’t running away.”

Daud scoffed. “Liar.”

“I wasn’t.” Garrett growled, and remembered the pen he’d stolen earlier in the night. “I’m worth whatever problems I bring you. This I can promise.”

“Is that so?”

Garrett raised both of his hands to show he was unarmed and freed the pen from its hiding spot, he offered it over his shoulder to Daud. “For your trouble.”

The pen was snatched away and Garrett felt like he waited for an eternity before the blade was lifted from his neck. He relaxed and turned to face Daud who was examining the pen while flicking his eyes back up to Garrett. “This is worth a considerable amount of coin.”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“Not really. That last time you stole from me you managed to take the items that held the most value. You’re good at that.” Daud’s expression remained harsh but it was clear and idea flashed in his mind because he smiled darkly at Garrett.

“Where did you learn it?”

“Measuring value?”

Daud nodded and Garrett shrugged not wanting to give much away, “practice.”

“Everything is a battle with you, isn’t it?” Daud seemed to muse to himself. “But I suppose it’s in your nature to be difficult. Now onto the matter of your punishment.”

Garrett glance down at his hands and swallowed hard as Daud chuckled. “I’m not so short sighted boy. I won't do that until I’m done with you.”

‘Until I’m done with you.’ Not an if. But a when.

The blade pointed in the direction Daud wanted Garrett to go, “Move it.” he ordered. Garrett begrudgingly followed the instruction, not wanting to add to whatever punishment Daud had in mind for him.

As he passed the felled bird his hope began to diminish. He’d now lost all forms of contact with Basso, who was the only one who actually gave a damn about whether or not he made it out of this mess alive. And honestly was the only person who might have come looking for him.

XXX

“Get in.”

Garrett swallowed at the sight if the pit he’d spent his first night under Daud’s thumb in. There wasn’t really a floor, simply a pile of bricks in the bottom of the pit and bars on the only exit. He remembered it being so damn cold and damp he’d wanted to die.

But if Daud knew how much he hated it, it would become the norm.

Garrett was sure of it.

He lowered himself into the pit and quickly drew his arms around himself, he had a long night ahead of him. He backed up toward the far wall and Daud appeared at the bottom of the pit with him. He held something out to Garrett, which he eyed with suspicion. “You’ll want to take this.” Daud insisted as he shook the hand.

It was a pair of thin rags, Garrett realised.

“If you’re smart, you’ll wrap up those hands of yours.” Daud’s amusement oozed out of the man’s skin, “And as a bonus I’ve decided to add six months to your sentence.”

“WHAT?” Garrett snapped between clenched teeth.

“Did you think I was simply going to lock you up for your insubordination? No boy. You’re going to feel the sting of your actions.” Daud closed in on him and wrapped a possessive hand around Garrett’s throat, “I expect you to remember: You. Are. Mine. You don't have the luxury of free will anymore.”

Anger unfurled in Garrett’s gut and it was everything he could do not to fight against the grip on his neck. Against the transparent restraints on his body. “You’re a sadist.” he growled unable to stop himself.

It only served to amuse his… master. “And you’re a lapdog now. How did you so elegantly put it before? Oh yes, I remember. I’m ‘just a thug with underlings who don’t measure up in my eyes’, that sound about right?”

“Holding grudges, Daud? I would have thought that beneath you.”

“Not at all. You, however are.” the hand dropped and Daud disappeared and reappeared at the lip of Garrett’s prison. “Nail it shut.” he ordered the other assassins and then turned his attention back to Garrett. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll forget about you entirely. I wonder how long you would starve before you begged to be set free?”

His smile was not a happy one, “shall we find out, men?”

A chorus of agreement bounced around the room as the bars dropped into place and were padlocked together. Then several planks of wood were laid across the only exit and eventually nailed down.

Garrett had kept his expression as neutral and bored as he possibly could while inside he had been screaming. His throat was dry as he settled against one of the cold concrete sides and wrapped the bands around his fingers before the cold had a chance to set in. He didn’t want to die down here. But if Daud even saw a hint of fear, that would be it for Garrett.

If he knew how much this prison grated on his psyche, Garrett would eventually be put to death in here.

At least now he knew Daud’s timetable. At a year and six months, he’d kill Garrett. Not set him free. But for a year and six months he was relatively safe. All he had to do… was periodically piss Daud off enough he’d add time to his sentence.

He would have to earn enough time to survive.

Garrett folded his hands against his stomach and drew his legs up to his chest to conserve his body heat for as long as he could. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his knees, his back aching in protest. He didn’t care…

He just wanted to go home.