An Ultra Violent Fairy Tale by Pete Bertino - HTML preview

22 AN ULTRA VIOLENT FAIRY TALE

“Yes, and I told them what I’m telling you now we weren’t equipped to hold her kind.”

“You were the one who signed the prisoner in, the most senior officer. You were supposed to escort the police officer...the man with guns, you were to personally escort him in and out during the transfer. You didn’t, she escaped and everyone else above you is dead. So that makes it your fault.”

“I had her locked up fine, nice and tight and you were the ones who insisted she be transferred!” the captain said back in a loud angry shout.

Paradine stopped speaking, moving his head back a little as if he’d been spit on. He gave just a slight nod as the captain looked at him wondering what the Chief Marshal would say next.

“So you blame The Lady then?” Paradine asked in a tone that was friendly sounding.

The captain whose face was pale and pasty already suddenly turned ghostly and looked more like a face in a black and white picture. His eyes went wide and were wet and bloodshot like he’d been drinking hard all night. The muscles of his neck went up and down as he tried to swallow, he mumbled as he shook his head.

“Rance, take him.”

“Yes, sir.” said his second in command, a captain himself but younger than the one whose hands he was currently cuffing.

He put up a little fight but his head wound left him too dizzy for anything more. When they blindfolded him he shuddered and began to cry, though quietly, it was a long drive on mostly paved roads. The vehicle was a short, gray, armored bus that normally transferred prisoners, this night it held only one.

Rance turned the vehicle on a great road called War Road that took them directly to a castle where the head of The Order resided.

Although Paradine had seen this place many times, the sight of it left him feeling in awe every time.

The castle was made of greasy looking black stones and sat on top a square of rock that was about a mile or more between each corner, the castle itself looked taller than the mountains that surrounded it and became smaller like a mountain as it went up, the ever narrowing sections of the Gothic building looked like a sinister wedding cake. There were long thin windows throughout its walls made of stained glass.