The nine-hour bus journey to Thessaloniki was surprisingly uneventful. Istanbul held no unexpected surprises for us either, maybe due to the covert assistance we received from one of Tyler's contacts. 

And now, here we are, holed up in a shabby hotel in Greece's second-largest city, with the clock ticking towards 6 p.m. Nightfall is just around the corner.

I'm kinda forced to share the room with Tyler but that's okay. Knowing that he's got some major intel about Lord Rabbi has certainly piqued my curiosity, and I'm ready to roll with whatever this quirky guy throws my way.

At least the weather is good here. Better than it would be in Braxton City anyway.

After a refreshing shower, I step out to find Tyler unwrapping the sword. I lean casually against the doorframe and jest, "I can't believe they let that thing on the plane. And you didn't even bother to give it a decent cleaning."

Tyler waves his hands nonchalantly, his lips quirking into a half-smile, "Was in a rush."

"Right, right," I mutter, sinking onto the bed beside him. "So, when's this valuable piece of metal going up for sale?"

"Tomorrow," he replies, still peeling back the layers of wrapping.

I can't help but roll my eyes when I see the sword in the daylight. It's even more caked in old blood than it appeared back in Cameron Airport. "Oh no, Tyler. You can't sell this thing in its current state. It needs a thorough cleaning."

The sword itself is a work of art. The surface above the razor-sharp blade is covered in intricate designs, though most are obscured by the dried crimson bodily fluid. Even the handle is a masterpiece I can't wait to fully appreciate once it's properly cleaned. 

With that in mind, I suggest, "Let me take care of that."

Tyler hands the sword over, sporting a playful pout. "Be my guest."

With that said I waste no time in disappearing into the bathroom again. I have no idea how to properly care for the metal sword but I'm definitely determined to get the dried blood out of the small crevices.

I have nothing to scrub it with than toilet paper but it will do for now. Bit by bit as the water dissolves the stubborn stains the designs are coming to life before my eyes. Although it is hard to understand what they represent. It looks like something completely otherworldly, satanic even as the clear shapes of demons and other odd creatures pierce my eyes.

The words - Dies Irae, Dies Illa - catch my attention and I have no idea what that means.

"Um, Tyler?" I call out, my voice bouncing off the crappy tilework of the bathroom. "Why is this hunk of metal so valuable?"

"Oh, it's really old."

As I wrap the blade into wet paper I try to scrub the handle and hear Tyler continue in a casual manner, "Plus, in turn, it was allegedly stolen from somebody else which adds to the value."

With every scrub, a design comes into focus. And as the patterns emerge, a familiar one sends shockwaves through me. My hands tremble, heart races as I recognize the skull within the mandala.

I drop the handle, the loud click against the bathroom counter bringing Tyler rushing to the door, "Everything okay? You're not breaking anything are you?"

Shocked, I turn my head to Tyler and lower my voice which is dripping with danger, "Who was this stolen from?"

My companion only smiles awkwardly and shrugs casually, "Oh, it's just a stupid..."

"Who was it stolen from?" I yell, my voice ringing sharply in both of our ears.

Tyler raises his hands in surrender and takes a step back, "Woha, relax, Dolly." He sighs and rubs his forehead while mumbling, "The Ghost of Braxton."

Honestly, I don't know why I needed Tyler to spell it out when it's pretty damn obvious. And the design I crafted for Kylo holds more significance than I'd ever realized. It looks like it's his emblem that is carved into the handle among many other symbols. I now assume they are all the markings of the previous Ghosts who used to own this sword.

"You can't sell this," I whisper, my eyes gazing at the sword.

Tyler scoffs, "Oh, I'm definitely going to sell it."

"No, you don't understand, Tyler."

"Oh, come on. You're not buying into that legend, are you?" He chuckles.

Something in my eyes darkens as our gaze meets again. I can literally see how Tyler's expression turns all serious from being so amused just a second ago. Approaching him slowly I growl, "I never told you who's after me."

My visibly frightened friend steps backward as I reveal my deepest secret, "Not that the Ghost is very much real, he is the deadliest person you could ever find. And believe me when I tell you that once you sell this sword, we are as good as dead."

Partially I'm not even sure everything just said would really happen but I don't want him to sell this sword. I need it to save my ass.

"Fuck," I run my hands over my face, "Fucking fuck!!" I curse as doing so. "If the... what did you call them? The Giovanny boys?" 

Tyler nods silently.

"If those fuckers are looking for the sword then you can be sure that the assassin already knows about it and he most probably knows about you too." 

Tyler inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his crooked nose, "Yo, I thought you were just being theatrical when you claimed to be the bride of the Ghost."

"No," I scoff, laughing, "I'm not his bride." Flopping onto the bed, I add nonchalantly, "It was some dumb thing the leader of the Chinese Triad called me before I offed him."

Tyler's jaw practically hits the floor, "You killed Yize Huang?"

"And his son," I toss in with a casual shrug, as though it's nothing extraordinary. 

I can't believe I'm discussing this so lightly, but I guess at this point in my life, I might as well start joking about my morally ambiguous choices. What's the worst that could happen?

"Holy shit! Who are you?" Tyler asks, his laughter tinged with disbelief as he takes a seat next to me.

I just can't wipe the grin off my face. Gazing down at my toes, I purr, "Just a regular girl whose neighbor happened to be the Ghost of Braxton one fine day."

"Just like that?" Tyler sounds incredulous.

"Of course not. Trust me, it wasn't an easy revelation," I grin, nudging him playfully with my elbow.

For the first time in a long while, I feel a semblance of relief. Maybe it's because I've shared my burden, or perhaps it's the first glimmer of hope that I might return home without a target on my back.

I mean... Tyler knowing Lord Rabbi's whereabouts, and us being in possession of Kylo's sword, has to mean he might consider letting me off the hook, right?

But this moment of a short glimpse of positive notes shatters once a loud bang against the door threatens us. For a second, Tyler's and my eyes meet and we know exactly what to do even without saying.

Tyler dashes for the bathroom to retrieve the sword while I hastily stuff my essentials into my bag. The banging on the door grows frantic, and we're out on the balcony, racking our brains on how to flee this trap of a hotel.

"We have to jump," Tyler suggests, but we're on the third floor, and that's a broken leg waiting to happen.

The door's seconds from giving way, a visible crack forming. Oddly, the lock's tougher than any I've seen before. Panic surges. I heave my leg over the railing and mutter, "There's a balcony below."

This maneuver demands more strength than either of us has right now, but it's this or death. I go first, lowering myself and gripping the edge of the floor. I see the railing just below my feet, but it's still out of reach.

"We've got to swing," Tyler directs, joining me just as the door splinters and footfalls approach, "They've spotted me!"

Shit!

We manage to land on the second-floor balcony, not exactly gracefully. Tyler's lucky he didn't tumble, but I've twisted my ankle pretty badly. Pain blazes through me, but we can't afford to slow down. Ignoring the agony, we storm into the room. The woman inside lets out a blood-curdling shriek as we burst in and dash through, barely sparing a "sorry" before making for the door.

A short corridor later, the pounding steps on the staircase confirm our pursuers are close. We burst out of the hotel, only getting a glimpse of our chasers. The street is a narrow alley, cobbled and uneven underfoot. Glancing back, I spot three determined figures hot on our heels.

Even though dusk is falling upon this land and the sun has less power every minute I can still see their determined, angry faces, focused solely on us.

Tyler slams his shoulder into the doors, hoping for an open escape. "Don't waste time," I urge, gritting my teeth through the ankle pain.

Thankfully, the labyrinthine alleys offer cover, momentarily hiding us from pursuers. But it's a brief respite. An abandoned building looms ahead, and Tyler, his hands trembling, attempts to pick the lock. My throbbing foot has left me gasping for breath, leaning heavily against the crumbling wall.

"Fucking hurry," I rasp.

"Shut up, Dolly!" Tyler hisses through his teeth, his forehead dripping with sweat.

Just as the click of a successful lock-pick resonates, we spot two of our pursuers closing in. They're sprinting toward us with a burning determination.

My friend kicks the door open, our temporary escape secured. The interior is shrouded in darkness, but a faint stream of light trickles through sealed windows. We locate a staircase and begin our ascent as we hear our pursuers breaching the building too.

"To the roof! It's a balcony" Tyler calls out when pointing his finger upward.

The setting sun casts long shadows over the faces of our three pursuers, who close in just as we reach the roof's dead end. Tyler wordlessly tosses me the sword. But in a matter of seconds, they grab Tyler's shirt and toss him against the wall of the neighboring house which happens to be slightly taller than the one we are on.

That leaves just me and the sword against the men who are slowly approaching me. Breathing hard and heavy I'm barely on my senses and only the rush of adrenaline is keeping me going. I try not to show any fear but I don't think I can pull it off this time.

My whole face must radiate my pain and fatigue and these men look just like they know exactly what am I going through.

All of a sudden, their faces drop serious and not the type of serious that is threatening but the type that speaks danger approaching. 

I can feel it too, it's coming behind my back. 

Obviously, I'm too terrified to turn my head and too cautious of my attackers.

So I'm just standing here with my shaking legs, waiting for something bigger to happen. And just like that, the sword is grabbed from my hand in a blink of an eye.

The tall and massive dark figure slices the throats of my opponents in another blink of an eye and the breath gets stuck in my throat as I see him slowly turning his face to me.

"Hello, Clarice."

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//Author//Ah, did you miss him? Please comment and vote.//