The fog seems extra dense tonight and much so to my benefit, for I do not wish to be easily observed, thinks Grace. Pulling her cloak tighter and over her head like a shroud.
First stop, the chemist shop.
Grace uses a specialized lock pick and having scouted out the least security wise shop, enters quietly, shutting the door silently; the door bell will never joyfully wave and tinkle a visitor again. Waiting to hear any sounds that might mean the owner heard her entrance and was coming down to investigate, she proceeds with caution should the situation change unexpectedly, making a quick escape necessary. Carefully draping the long cloak over the counter, preventing any accidental sweeping of shelves, she moves like a Ninja, all in black from head to toe. Pulling out a flash light, one benefit in time travel is the ability to pick up useful gadgets, she scans the shelves for the ingredients needed to make the powder for Stella. Using a combination of Arginine, Lysine, and Potassium Chloride, she grinds them together, using a mortar and pestle, into a fine powder. Not an easy task when trying to make no noise at all, the potassium was only in crystal form and the risk was necessary since they had no tools sufficient in their rooms; besides, there is a limit to what she can carry. Now, carrying all the powder in another future invention, the zip-lock bag, she hides it in the waistband of her pants. Trying to leave things as close to when she started, Grace dawns her cloak and exits. The fog is even thicker than before, the street lamps look like tiny glowing globes and the clopping of horse hooves is heard in the distance.
Next stop, the butcher's yard. This task will be even more of a challenge, but the potion will not work without blood. Robbing a hospital is out of the question and she would get caught. No, this is the only way and it must be done tonight. Creeping along the streets, Grace finally finds the yard of the butcher and scales the tall fence. One ability her kind has is strength and agility is her specialty, a very useful combination of skills in these situations. Jumping into the yard she startles the animals nearest the fence, rather unavoidable, but they soon settle down as she pats their furry bodies. There is not one lamp lit, so she switches on her flashlight and slowly shines it around. The various farm animals are in small pins, waiting for the morning slaughter no doubt. Seeing what she needs, she cautiously moves toward the small building, careful not to upset the animals again. Standing at the door of the coop, she pulls out a small sack form the lining of her cloak. Pushing the outer door open and holding her breath, she proceeds to the small house where all the chickens are asleep. Pausing, as she knows it has to be done in one swift motion, she readies the sack; the chickens will squawk an alert that will rouse everyone in the yard, including the household. Lifting a flap, she reaches in with one hand, feeling the soft warm feathers and grabs as close to a neck, pulling it towards her and the sack. Success! The chicken got out a strangled squeak, but it was enough to set off a wave of cackles; by now she was across the yard, headed towards the gate. Just then, she hears a low growl and realizes a dog is coming up on her, followed by a man's voice calling to the animal. What is it boy? Someone in the yard? In a split second, Grace is at the gate, opening the latch with one hand and bagged chicken in the other; turning to face the approaching dog, she lets out a hiss that makes the dogs hair stand on end. Whimpering in fear it turns tail. Nothing is stopping me now! Running several blocks before she stops to catch her breath, squirming chicken under her arm, she makes her way back to Stella, who despite being tied up, is still asleep. Grace lays out the bagged powder and lets her cloak drop, looking at the bewildered chicken, she rings it's neck and cuts off the head. Blood pours out into the large bowl for the purpose of blending all ingredients. Using a large spoon, she stirs the blood and powder together until it forms a paste. Part of the concoction will be used in the paste form. Stoking the fire back to life, she heats the remains in the bowl until the contents begin to liquefy; allowing it to cool slightly, she pours it into all the glasses she can find. The smell of heated blood wakens Stella and she struggles against her bonds. Bringing one of the glasses over, Grace helps her sister choke down the bloody mixture. More, give me more... another glass down, Stella falls asleep again. Grace, exhausted from the whole ordeal, slumps in a chair and drifts off into her own kind of slumber. As she begins to relax, her mind wanders into a dream...a dream with swirling fog and shadowy figures...with one coming closer and closer...
1 comment:
Ninja Grace!
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