13: Owner Of The Red Eyes

Owner Of The Red Eyes

From the corner of the back alley of the shop, I checked on Martha. She was standing in front of an accessories shop and was holding something in her hand as she talked to the owner of that small stall.1

This was the best opportunity for me to escape, and I used it. I ran while holding the floor-length skirt of my dress, smiling brightly at my success.

I didn't care what would happen next. I only knew that this freedom tasted good.

After running some more, I came to a reasonable distance from Martha and stopped at one intersection with so many paths attached leading out of here.

"Which way to go?"

I observed all the paths and chose to go to the one that didn't have so many people walking.

As I threaded my way, I looked here and there in worry. "Why are there no women here and only men?"

I heard the laughing sounds of men coming from the big houses, and curiously, I peeked at them from a window. Inside, men were drinking, and women with too much makeup on their faces were serving them.

"This doesn't look comfortable."

I didn't know what place that was but those men and women didn't feel right to my senses. Continuing my way, I noticed all those big houses were the same, and men continued to go in and out of them.

"Young lady, from which brothel are you from?" I heard a man's voice behind me.

'Brothel? What's this?'

I turned around to look at the speaker and check if he was talking to me. A middle-aged man, stinking badly enough to hurt my nose, gazed at me from head to toe. As my face had a hat and veil covering it, his sight was fixed at my chest and then traveled down to my waist.

I furrowed my brows, ready to leave, but stopped as the man said something revolting.

"Young and fresh," the man commented, though he couldn't see my face. The way he looked at me, the way he licked his own lips, was disgusting to me.

"What did this man even eat?"

I frowned and turned to leave, but he grabbed my hand and forced me to stop.

"Let me go." I greeted my teeth, trying to pull my hand back.

"You can go once I'm done with you," said the man, and he was about to pull me to him, but I slapped him.

His touch felt disgusting. Because of my slap, the drunk man moved back, almost losing his balance.

"You witch!" the man yelled, and it pulled everyone's attention to me.

'Did he recognize me?' I felt worried.

"How dare you slap me? Get her!" the drunk man said, and the next moment, a number of burly men stood around me.

These people looked scarier than the demons seen in books. It wasn't their looks, but their intentions scared me. I didn't know what kind of intentions they had exactly, but they felt threatening, and my guts told me I must never let them capture me.

'I need to run.'

I took a step back, ready to sprint, but two men held my arms tightly, making me unable to move.

'Martha, where are you?'

What a tragedy, that in the end, I could only pray for that old lady to save me.

My eyes searched for Martha, but there was no miracle, and she did not appear to bring me away from here. The drunk man signaled his men something, and they pulled the blue robe that I wore over my pink dress.

"Keep her hat. If she is ugly, it will spoil my mood," ordered the drunk man.

'How dare they?!' I frowned.

The man leered at my pink dress. His disgusting behavior started to anger me.

"A noble young lady," the man smirked, "Today, we can taste a noble lady instead of those whores."

Everyone laughed at me, making me feel as if I was nobody.

'Taste? Am I food to taste me? Are they planning to kill me and then eat me? Are they demons?!'

I searched for a way to escape, but those strong men stood in my way.

"Let me go before I hurt you," I warned, clenching my fists.

"Haha! Hurt us?" the man said, and everyone around laughed again. The few people passing by didn't concern themselves about what was happening and instead looked at me as if I'm some sort of entertainment.

"Take her dress off," the drunk man ordered, and the others stepped towards me, ready to rip off my clothes.

'Are they real?' My anger was brewing. 'How can they treat me like this? They touched me, took off my robe, and now want to take off my clothes."

Instead of fear, anger filled me inside; I glared at those men as if they were the most hated thing for me. I didn't know what happened, but I couldn't control my emotions.

Something hidden inside me was asking me to hurt them.

The next moment, their clothes caught fire, and the entire place was filled with their screams. The men that were set ablaze and the bystanders had started running away.

"Witch! There is a witch!" They all shouted their throats out, fear evident in their voices.

In that chaos, I ran as well, not thinking where I was going, and bumped into someone. My hat was misplaced, ready to fall, but one hand held it before it would fall down.

My nose was hurt when my face bumped into the hard chest of the man, and I looked up only to see a pair of red eyes staring at me. The owner of those eyes stood tall in front of me.

'Red eyes?'

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