Contractbound - Chapter 53 A Police Call

Late at night, in front of a big house with an iron black gate on Kerkstraat, several police motor carriages were parked. Their blue and red lights were flaring in the moonless night, attracting nearby curious people, who have gathered there to see what the commotion was about.

Several officers in blue coat were standing at the gate, securing the parameter. There was a logo on the Police on each of their coats, which looked very warm in that cold night. They were serving as a blockade as well as a backup in case it was needed; however, the officers who had gone inside hadn’t fully determined the severity of the situation yet, so they had to be on standby, ready for action any time. The curious people were asking those officers many questions, but they could not give a definite answer to them.

The Police were there because they had received an anonymous call saying that they had heard the sound of a gunshot from inside the house. The caller’s identity couldn’t be determined, but they only rarely got prank calls, so the Police took the matter seriously. They came within five minutes from the moment the call was made in full force.

Amidst the flashing siren lights, two officers, a tall man with a scarred face and a short woman who exuded friendliness, walked into the house. They were Rood and Oranje. Rood approached another officer who was standing near the main door.

“How’s the situation inside?” he asked in a deep, hoarse voice.

“Sergeant Rood, we found to naked women who are suspected to be captives. They are now resting in that room because of their weak condition,” the officer pointed at a room that looked like the living room behind him.

“How are they?”

“They are extremely weak. One of them has a missing toe, but she can still speak. The other’s condition is much worse. She doesn’t respond to any questions… or anything at all,” he explained.

“We’ll see them now. Thank you,” Rood responded shortly.

He went to the room where the two women were resting. It was indeed the living room, and inside, there were two women covered in blankets lying down on the sofas. One of them had a lifeless expression on her face; she didn’t even look at the two people entering the room. She only stared blankly at the ceiling, which was directly in front of her from her lying down position. The other woman looked exhausted, but she showed more signs of life. Rood and Oranje approached the latter.

“Hi. How are you feeling?” asked Oranje with a warm smile. Her voice was gentle, which seemed to be able to soothe the minds of the listeners.

The woman looked at the two people from the Police in front of her. The warm voice of the female officer made her calmer. “I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Can you tell us your name?” Oranje asked kindly.

“My name is Sabine van Aalsburg…” she answered weakly.

“Nice to meet you, Sabine, can I call you that? I’m Oranje, and that is Rood. Do you mind telling us what happened?” Oranje spoke softly, reassuring Sabine that everything was alright now.

Sabine showed a pained expression the moment she remembered what had happened to her. She had been held captive there for days, and the other woman, even longer. Her captor had made her do things she didn’t want to remember anymore, and would often abuse them. She was given very little food and water during those past days, which felt like forever to her, and could only go to the toilet when her captor was around, otherwise, she had to hold it back. She told everything to the female officer in front of her with difficulty.

Oranje showed concern and empathy in her expression after listening to the story. She then asked tenderly, “How did you escape?”

“I thought I had lost any chance of seeing the sun again, but there was a strange man who came and shot that person. After that, he freed us and disappeared just like that,” explained Sabine.

“How strange?” asked Rood straightforwardly.

Sabine looked at him and felt something similar to when she was looking at her captor; she couldn’t lie around them. “He was too mysterious. I couldn’t even hear his footsteps. And after he shot my captor, the body burst into flames. And he unlocked our handcuffs by just saying some words,”

Oranje looked at Rood and they appeared to have agreed on the same thing. This matter involved Contractbounds, and most likely a Shroud. It was not the first time that they encountered a Shroud during their recent investigations, and all divination attempts would yield no result.

“Do you think it’s the same person as last time?” asked Oranje with a serious tone to Rood.

“There is a high chance that it is. A Shroud is not something you see every day, after all,” guessed Rood.

Oranje then turned back to Sabine who didn’t understand what the officers were talking about. “Do you remember anything about the man who saved you? Any small detail will do,”

Sabine wanted to lie as to not put her savior in trouble, but with the presence of the male officer, she knew she couldn’t. “I really couldn’t see him. He was wearing a mask and a hat, and I only saw his appearance for a split second because I needed to concentrate hard to see him. I was still weak,” she said honestly but withheld some information that she could omit.

Oranje looked at Rood and he nodded, which meant that the woman in front of her was telling the truth. She then asked again, “Is there anything else?”

Sabine was cornered. If she said no, it would mean she was lying. She needed to tell the officers something that could not indirectly reveal her savior’s identity. She knew how good the Police were at tracking people.

“He was very kind. He stopped my bleeding with his words,” she said. It was something she deeply believed in, so it shouldn’t count as a lie.

Oranje turned back to Rood and he nodded again. Then she asked him, “Do you know what power that is?”

“I have some guesses, but I’ll need to check our register again,” Rood said with doubt.

Oranje looked back at Sabine with kind eyes and said, “Thank you very much, Sabine. The ambulance should be here very soon to take you to the hospital. An office will be taking your statement too. You have to get well again.”

Sabine breathed in relief. She had managed to repay her savior even by just a drop in the ocean. “Thank you,” she smiled genuinely at the two officers.

…

At one after midnight, Valentine was busy walking around his dark office room, sprinkling Dragon’s Blood oil around on every corner. The sweet and spicy fragrant with clove-ish middle note penetrated his nose and made him strangely positive, as if the negative energy had been cleansed from the room. After that, he opened a brown ancient scroll and laid it flat on the table. He placed four red candles on each of the four corners, with each candle facing a cardinal direction.

Next came the hard part: drawing the sigil. He slit his palm deeply with his knife to let the blood out easily. He dropped the fresh, red blood on the top of the sigil with the complicated design, starting from the top left; a left-facing cross with a circle on top. He then drew a line to the top center where a big ‘S’ was and continued to the right, which was a mirrored image of the left side. Valentine drew the middle part next, which were two ‘S’s placed at the far end, facing each other and connected with a contour line. The bottom part was last: it was the same two crosses as the top, but without the big ‘S’ in the middle. Drawing the complicated design took a lot of his blood because the scroll kept absorbing it.

Once the sigil was complete, Valentine placed the remains of Daans Holsten in the middle. The soft round object resembling an all-red eyeball stood firmly on top of blood sigil.

He breathed heavily, trying to regain his energy after losing much blood before continuing with the next step because it would be a very painful one.

Once he was ready, he lit the red candlesticks one by one, starting from the one pointing north and moved in a clockwise direction, the west being the last. The flames from the candles burned gently, and combined with the scent of the Dragon’s Blood oil, soothed his mind and made it easier to focus. They illuminated the dark room with an orangish hue, and cast shadows around them.

After all the candles were lit, he started the summoning chant.

“Thee I invoke, the One born from Fire,”

“Thou art the master of All Things Hidden,”

“Thou art the master of Past Reconstruction,”

“Thee, that unveilst Evil and the Wicked,”

“Thee, that uncoverst Lies and bringst forth Truth,”

“Come thou forth, and accept my offering,”

“And grant me your power, worthy of thy name!”

Swoosh!

The room became pitch black and a violent blaze came out of the scroll, setting the blood sigil on fire and consumed the offering material on it. It then spread quickly and encircled Valentine in the middle.

He knew what would come next: pain– a lot of pain. He braced himself and watched his dark surrounding which was strangely not brightened up although there was a raging fire.

A short moment later, he felt a sharp pain in his eyes. It was a similar pain to what he felt during his first ritual, but no matter how many times he had done it, he would never get used to that. The pain felt like his eyes were being melted slowly. He closed his eyes and covered them with his hands trying to minimize the pain, but without success. He felt that his eyes were becoming less and less solid until they completely turned to mush. Then, from his now empty eye-sockets, something grew rapidly until. They were two new eyeballs that looked all-red. After several seconds, the eyeballs became normal, with Valentine’s original light blue irises.

The next round of pain came not long after. This time, it was his ears. He felt something slowly cutting his ears with a boiling hot knife, causing agonizing pain. The wound got cauterized right away, and the smell of burnt flesh entered his nose. He knew it was not his physical body that was being burned, but the smell was too real. He gritted his teeth and tried to bear with the torture. It lasted what felt like forever to Valentine. When the last piece of tissue connecting his ears to his head was cut off, he screamed in agony.

What came next wasn’t pleasant either. He felt that from his cauterized wounds, something was trying to break free. It forcefully pushed around the wounds until it finally pierced through. Those were new ears that quickly grew into normal sizes. The feeling was indescribable. It was like a small piece of his skin suddenly became bloated and formed a new organ.

Once his ‘new’ ears completely formed, Valentine, who was lying on the ground panting, could see light again. At some point, he had fallen off his office chair. With the pain gone, he knew that he had successfully completed the ritual. The last step was to seal the scroll with the copper wire that he had prepared.

Valentine put out the flames from the candles, which had burned quite a lot despite only the short time that had passed. and put them aside to enable him to roll the scroll. He rolled the scroll back and wrapped the wire around it, and then tied if firmly. The moment the scroll was sealed, in burst into flames and entered Valentine through his nostrils.

After finishing his second ritual, Valentine had become a Shrouded Denuder.