Edgar awoke to tiny claws prickling at his back. His eyes snapped open as the claws dug even deeper.661Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcXbervdmjO
"Get off me, stupid cat," he growled, rolling over. Barry, the familiar in the form of a pristine white tabby, fell off his back. As a result, his claws drug across Edgar's back, leaving scratch marks that burned and began to bead up with blood.
Barry persisted, jumping back onto him with an angry snort. "Feed me, you asshole!" He dug his claws into his arm as he made his demands as if he could torture Edgar into giving him what he wanted.
"Fine, fine. I'm up, you accursed being," Edgar growled as he threw Barry off the bed. Of course, the sentient animal landed on his feet with no issue. "What do you want?" Edgar had asked as he slowly pushed himself out of bed and headed for the kitchen.
"I want roasted duck, - no wait, chicken. Or maybe some sushi! Mmm, sushi..." Barry trailed off as his golden eyes glazed over. Likely he was daydreaming about taking a juicy bite out of a sushi roll. Edgar reached into the cabinet where he plucked forth a can of cat food. He read the label off to Barry.
"How about... Turkey and liver with gravy!" Edgar's tone rose in pitch as if he was reading off the winner of a sweepstakes.
Mimicking his tone, Barry replied with, "how about you.... Jump off a bridge!"
"Then who will feed your greedy ass?" As he said this, he pulled a paper plate from the cabinet above the sink. He cracked open the can and started dumping the slimy, chunky contents onto the plate.
"The old couple from 2B, Edgar. They will feed me." Barry hopped onto the counter and watched with a grumpy expression as his breakfast was served. "This is dreadful, Edgar. I bet you're doing this just to harvest all the negative emotions I'm giving off right now. That's it, isn't it?"
Edgar could tell he was joking, of course. But Edgar flashed the familiar a grin. "Why, yes. That is exactly why I'm doing this. Now, bon appetit, Barry." Edgar turned to throw the can into the trash bin. He then went to retrieve a granola bar for himself.
"You hate me. I knew it." Barry moved over to sniff the pile of cat food. "I don't know how my cousins eat this stuff. They've come a long way from being royal pets of God-kings." Barry hesitantly started eating his food, while Edgar started munching on his granola bar.
After awhile, Barry glanced up. "So what are you going to do today, Eddy?"
"Don't call me that, Barry." Edgar sighed, leaning against the counter. "But I'm going to go and check in with Barnabus. I'm sure he'll have some order for me to fulfill. Or perhaps an errand to run."
"Oooh!" Barry said with a mouthful of food that he quickly swallowed. "Do you think you'll have to kidnap another helpless girl and mentally scar her for life?" Barry's tone did not deviate from his usual sarcasm.
"Listen, Barry. That was one time. And you know I didn't hurt her." Edgar swallowed the remnants of his granola bar, before throwing the wrapper away.
"You totally scarred her for life." Punctuating his sentence faintly in the distance, was the blaring sound of Voltaire's Beast of Pirate's Bay. Edgar didn't even have to answer his ringing phone to know it was his boss, Barnabus.
"In Soviet Russia, you not report to boss. Boss reports to you," Barry said in the worst Russian accent that Edgar had ever heard in his life.
"Please drown yourself, Barry," Edgar told him, before leaving the room to retrieve his phone. Right as the ringtone was about to end, Edgar made it just in time to answer the phone.
"What's up, Barnabus?"
"Eddy-boy!" Barnabus's cheerful baritone voice rang through the speaker. Edgar felt irritating prickling him at the nickname. "Get down to the shop, boy! We got a buyer lookin' for ya specialty."
"I'll be there in ten."
"Ya better be, lad. Or I'll carve out ya eyes!" Barnabus's cackles rang out through the line before it suddenly ceased. There was the tell-tale click that indicated that he ended the call. Edgar knew Barnabus was only kidding about carving out Edgar's eyes, yet still, it prompted him to hurry. He threw on whatever clean clothes he happened to grab first. After throwing on a pair of sneakers, he grabbed his brown leather jacket and red bandana, before rushing out the door.
"Come home to me soon, my love!" Barry screeched after him. Edgar could only grin. He truly did love Barry's company more than anyone else's.
Once he stepped out the front door of his apartment building, New York's charming atmosphere enveloped him in its fold. Blaring horns, thousands of people talking and shoving their way through the streets, and bumper-to-bumper cars dominated the blacktop.
Edgar wasted no time as he sped down the street, avoiding people as he went. The entrance to the "Underworld" as the black market of the supernatural world had come to be known as was located in a poorer section of Manhattan. It was there that Barnabus had set up his shop since he did deal in illegal goods. It wasn't the greatest job ever, but he had little choice. He needed to stay hidden without reverting to a Gypsy lifestyle. The best way to do that was to work for some of the most secretive people In the world.
Edgar arrived at the little shop on the corner of two run-down streets. On the outside, the rinky dinky red-roofed shop looked a century or two old. Completely inconspicuous. Nobody would look at it once, let alone twice. Unless, of course, they knew it was the entrance into a pocket dimension that hosted the Underworld.
Edgar nudged the door open. Instead of greeting the dilapidated interior of the old building, he was met with gray stone stairs that led down. The walls were lit with dragon blood lanterns that cast and eerie reddish-orange glow over the stairs. Edgar still found the descend unsettling, even after years of descending these same steps.
Before he even reached the bottom of the stairs, he could hear the raucous laughter and yelling of the Tipsy Boglet long before he saw the tavern.
Passing it, he spotted two people duking it out just outside. Others were crowded around them, watching and cheering them on. Edgar might've stayed and watched if he wasn't pressed for time.
Edgar made his way through the maze-like tunnels, keeping his head down as he passed the various folk of the Underworld. In no time, he found himself outside of Barnabus's workshop. It was in a secluded corner. It was built into the wall, fitting seamlessly with the gray brickwork.
Stepping in, Edgar's nose was overwhelmed with the smell of the ocean. Waiting at the counter, was a tan woman wearing a colorful layered dress. Golden disks were hanging from every other layer from gold chains. Every single movement she made, even the faintest one, produced jingling noises, as though a tambourine were being played.
She turned to him, a sinister smile twisting her lips. Yet Edgar hardly noticed, as he was focused on the orange cloth decorated with beads and sequins that she had wrapped around the upper portion of her face.
"You're two minutes late, servant of Barnabus. I've half a mind to turn you into a frog." She hmphed. "In fact, the only reason I haven't done so is because I need you and your services."
Edgar closed the door to the shop behind him, and hesitantly approached the eccentrically dressed woman. Despite his first instinct to challenge her on her threat, he put on a smile and played nice. As Barnabus has repetitively drilled into his head, the customer is always right.
"My deepest apologies for the inconvenience, miss. What can I do to help you?"
The woman reached into a satchel she had hanging from a sash. From it, she procured a card that Edgar suspected might've been a business card.
"I need a vial of betrayal. The purest of all." She paused to sashay closer to Edgar. He found himself frozen in place, unable to look away from her shrouded visage. She held up an index finger adorned with an ornate metal claw, deliberately poking him on the left side of his chest. Right over where his heart was. Her sudden proximity enveloped him in an intense smell of spices.
"I want the essence of betrayal created from heartbreak caused by a lover. It must be soul-shatteringly intense. Do you understand, witchling?" The woman cocked her head, that sinister smile still playing on her ruby lips. For a moment, Edgar forgot he had a charm that gave him the aura of a witch, so he was momentarily overwhelmed with confusion.
"Yes," Edgar breathed, forcing himself to not stutter. Usually, he wasn't this nervous, but this woman sent his brain scattering everywhere. All he wanted was for her to get out of his personal space.
As if God heard his silent pleas, she slid back with a flourish of her skirt. She held the card out to him.
"Good. Bring it to this location in..." She trailed off, pretending to think. "Oooh... Six months? Yes. I'm sure that's long enough for you to completely and utterly destroy someone and collect the essence I seek." She had stated it so casually as if it was just another Tuesday for her to ask these things of people.
He took the card, glancing down at the address. Some place in Florence, Alabama. He had no clue where Florence even was.
"I can do it by then," he told her, tucking the card into a pocket sewn on the inner flap of his jacket.
"You'd best be able to. If you are even a day late, I will come and do much worse to you than forcing you into a permanent diet of flies and other disgusting six-legged critters." Without waiting for a response, the blinded woman marched out in a flash of colorful cloth and jingling. As he watched her disappear, he silently cursed himself for not reading her aura before she left. He was curious as to what she really was.
Edgar turned to the counter, where Barnabus's bulbous form slinked in the doorway to the back room. Edgar had no idea when he got there, but he was sure Barnabus ahs heard it all.
"So now ya gotta break some poor lass's heart. Psh... And ya complained about havin' to gather fear's essence that one time." Barnabus stomped over to the counter, handing him a vial. "Take that to Elle. Maybe ya can ask her for some advice while you're at it."
Edgar peered at the vial. It lacked a label but had a distinct, vibrant emerald green colored liquid within. He had not a clue what it was, but it wasn't his job to ask.
"Year, I'll ask her. Anything else you need to be done while I'm down here?"
Barnabus stroked his brown stomach-length beard in thought. "I think I could use a good ol' Daredevil. Pick me up one from the Tipsy Boglet." He dug out a couple of twenty dollar bills from his pocket, handing them to Edgar. "Get yourself somethin' too, boy."
"Sounds like a deal. I'll be back soon," he told Barnabus, before exiting into the dark streets of the Underworld.
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