CAITLYN, THE TRAVELLING MERCHANT

■ 1067/1000 WORDS ■ "This isn't what I wanted" ■

She held the note in her hands. She hated the nonchalant doings of the other faiths within Dahlia. It was insulting to her to even request her aid in this manner. Caitlyn was drawn to these things, but still had her own way to deal with these men and their needs. She would sigh before leaving her own home within the temple. As he climbed the steps, she grabbed a sash that hung on the wall up the stairs and covered her mouth. She knew what she had to do.

She would open the door at the top of the staircase, the wooden door creaking with its own age. Few people remained in the temple, bowing to the shrine and the small trinkets people have left behind. More and more people were showing up. But why? Caitlyn made no effort to enlarge the following. Was it just natural for these people to put faith in a god Caityl nearly refused to speak of?

"Praise the Nameless one!!" the lady almost yelled into the ground with her head against the ground. Caitlyn would have to do more digging later on.

She would press the large doors to step onto the muggy streets of the fogged city of Dahlia. It was something about the natural gloom that brought her peace. Besides, she knew it was only right that a member always tended to the temple. She couldn't leave if she wanted to, the great deity would smite her, find some way to end her life. Caitlyn was foolish, but she was not stupid.

With a step in the right direction, she would begin to head towards the cemetery. She always did love the excitement of a graveyward.


"'The Heretic" she laughed as she walked towards the gravesite. These cultists were fools with little imagination. She felt as if Bishop Santos would greet her this time, but she knew she was a ways away from that day.

"You." he commanded her. Who the hell did he think he was? Did he have a death wish? Who in the god's name was this fool?

"You will do, Caitlyn." That boisterous voice. No. Could it be?

"Really, you of all people, asking me for help again? It's bad enough I have you messing with my trade. Who I kill is supposed to stay dead, you're not supposed to bring them back."

"Then perhaps this will interest you. I need you to open some caskets for me. You can choose who we play with. I need them untouched and fresh. Don't mess this up."" he stared at the woman. They already hated each other enough, with Caitlyn getting caught in it all, it could only get worse.

"I know just the caskets then." she would laugh, turning away from the man. It would seem all of her choices brought her full circle. "You can go into the cemetery tonight, I'll let you know when I find them"

She laughed to herself, her own life was comical and full of irony. The man spoke as if he was seven foot tall and several hundred pounds. He was still a man of glass bones as always. Caitlyn was used to cleaning up messes and making lives a bit easier. With a hum and a whistle, she went back to her own doings.

She would make her way without a rush, waiting for the sky to turn black and for the creatures of the night to slowly creep out. Sure, she was human, but she was devoted to a god like no other. Her hunger for flesh and thirst for blood was enough to even gross vampires and demons.

When she neared the gates of the cemetery, she would walk a few more yard down and hop the fence. With a long hanging fog from morning dew and the added eerieness  of the creepy night, no one would see or notice her. The screams of innocent lives in the distance would make sure she wasn't even heard.

As she entered the graveyard, she would see a few gatherings of people seeking some sort of grief or redemption of loss. It was new to her. She knew they honored their loss lives, but why would they carry on so weak? Why not honor their lives by living in happiness, nor sorrow?

She would hold her tongue, her expressions of joy for the tainted earth. She would take up flowers left on graves and make her own bouquet as she begun her search of the family she had slain just days ago for Santos.

She would make her way past the few families that dwelled on this foggy night to the far side of the cemetery. When she was sure no one was looking any longer, she would drop the flowers and pick up one of the shovels left behind to dig the pits that sat near the few caskets. Caitlyn would smile as she used the spade as a means of prying the caskets open. She knew a thing or two about burials, and to know where the nails, screws and locks were was just enough to make her night just that much easier.

With a few seconds of correct placement and weight and pressure at just the right spot... yes,  right there. The casket would begin to open bit by bit. She would do it again . . . and again . . .and again. Soon, in the matter of no more than a few minutes, one would begin to open, even if the lid was still kept down. She would make sure they were all easily accessible, but left closed to ensure no one noticed and that the waxed bodies were kept fresh.

Dropping the spade, her task would be completed. She would make her way out in reverse, passing by the same families and people as she did before. Tears filled their eyes in their own mourning, and her own self was left a blur to them.

. . .

"I'll require your services again soon." the old prune said to her.

"You make me sound like a prostitute. Just give me the money, your bodies are already prepped and ready." She extended her hands to the man, only to be set with a bag of money.

"Thanks old man." she would say before walking off.

She had other things to take care of.