The BountyMature

Far beyond the bittersweet of the graveyard, in the darkest
depths of the Nether World, a crowd of the most bizarre individuals you will
ever meet was gathering in an old chapel.

The chapel’s stained glass was the color of blood, red light
streaming down, illuminating the pale white statues of various saints.

A horrid stench of rotting flesh made bile rise in the
throats of the gathered undead.

The Councilor, an old man in a tattered red robe, was known
as one of the most powerful men in the York District.

He governed over almost all ofNew York Cityand all of the outskirts.

The double doors to the chapel flew open, banging against
the walls.

In the light of the dying sun stood Adelvina Veicht.

She was rumored to have once been the Gauleiter of Bavaria,
promoted to that position the day before Hitler died.

She was a Nazi – her short blonde hair hung in a bob around
her chiseled jaw, ice blue eyes scanned the room of terrified faces.

Adelvina did know how to make an entrance.

She always wore the tattered, bloodstained remains of her
uniform that she had been wearing when she was assassinated.


“Hullo,” She grinned wickedly.


A woman let out an odd squeak and promptly passed out, her
head falling into the lap of the gentleman beside her.


“Miss Veicht! What a….pleasure it is to see you,” The
Councilor gasped for breath, his lungs rattling.


“Yes. I would say the same but unfortunately,” She walked
down the aisle, pausing where the woman had passed out, “It’s not true,” The gentleman
looked up at her in horror as her eyes met his.


The Councilor smoothed what was left of his brittle grey
hair and swallowed nervously.

Adelvina crossed the length of the chapel in three swift
strides and mounted the box he was standing on.


“I heard,” She hissed in his ear, “That there was a bounty
on a particular boy’s head,”


Adelvina stared at the pulse of the Councilor’s jugular vein


“Yes. Quite right. The young Maximus,”


The Nazi couldn’t help but smile – as an experienced bounty
hunter, she reveled in the hunt. And even more in the kill.


“So…where will the little brat be then, hmm?” She stepped
off the box and pulled a dagger from a hostler at her side, examining herself
in its reflection.


“He was spotted an hour ago in the Land of the Living in a
graveyard – the outskirts of a small town, Rutherford, Kansas.
We believe he is in that same location now – only in our world,”


Adelvina jabbed the knife into her holster, glancing at the
Councilor over her shoulder, “Excellent. By sunrise tomorrow, you will have a
dead heir to the throne of Atlantis,”

The End

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