Pocketcat.
A sinister presence dating back to the first century.
After the Great Evil Kings were slain, there were many records of blood pools surfacing from where the kingdoms those kings ruled over. And from them, the Gods' playthings emerged.
Among the many vile and malevolent creatures that were birthed from the pools, Pocketcat was said to have been one of them.
Samarie, even from a distance, could tell that those records were underplaying just how wrong it felt to be standing near the entity.
However, seeing as Pocketcat was kept alive via stories. Perhaps it wouldn't be too far off to say she could use the tricks humanity concocted to fools the Pocketcat.
She just needed to remember what those tricks were… It had been a while since Samarie heard those stories in the first place, the sisters in the Vatican having told them to her…
Before they themselves became the monsters of her past.
"Pocketcat, right?" Samarie found it hard to insert herself in the conversation. "Say, do you know where the church is around here?"
She wasn't a child, so that ruled out predation.
And the best way to confront a problem was to avoid it, if possible.
"The church? It is just straight from here, across the main junction." It pointed, a hand raising towards the opposite path. "But, you know, I can do more than just point you in the right direction, right?"
"But I also doubt your services come for free." Samarie put the plainest deadpan she could.
A gleam shown in its big bright eyes. "Naturally, it is only right."
And from a space between spaces, it pulled a bag the size of Samarie's forearm. And from this bag, Pocketcat took out an entire set of display cases- which were far larger than what the bag could hold !
They were the kind that Samarie had seldom seen for the special items of the Vatican.
"What a clever young lady," It praised, making a show of putting attention on the books inside the case. "Skin bibles, tomes, and the secrets of the Universe! This little thing has it all!"
"And what's the cost?" Deep down, Samarie already knew the answer. It was the very thing the sisters had warned her about, after all.
"Well, seeing as there are very few 'treats' to open up in the city," The grin on its lips grew ear to ear. "How about the heads of those participating in the festival's free-for-all?"
That right there was the crux of the matter.
While, normally, she wouldn't have been concerned with the price.
In fact, she would have gladly taken the heads of the others on the train if it meant she could better protect Marina.
However, with those ideas in mind, it brought up an equally concerning point.
Who else thought about that exact same idea?
Samarie wasn't naive to think that Pocketcat only approached her.
There would be others.
And would they have the same thoughts about risking it all just to protect Marina?
So far, Samarie really couldn't say so.
In fact, she doubted they would have done the same thing in her place.
Which raised quite the good question.
What would she do now?
Looking down at her hands, Samarie realized that she'd never really felt remorseful for a lot of the things she'd done.
It turned out that living a life that consisted of constant violence, sacrifice, survivor's guilt over having lived through the tragedy of her youth made it pretty hard to feel those things in the first place.
If only she hadn't said the things she'd said.
Perhaps she could have made sure that Marina was safe.
But on second thought, perhaps the split would have happened either way.
A different time. A different place.
The same end, all the same.
She dreamed of that end now.
But knew she could not turn back the clock.
Samarie sighed, a downcast expression forming on her face as she stared at Pocketcat.
"I don't have heads, and I thank you for pointing me towards the church," She started, taking a deep breath for what was to come. "So how about you give me the names or locations of those who intend to do the contest Marina harm.
"In exchange, I will personally hunt the heads of an additional two contestants- aside from Marina."
A vow, and an exchange.
The grin on the cat-man, seemed to stretch beyond the boundaries of its face.
"Good, very good."
Its presence stretched, looming over like a shadow over its prey.
"I do love a vow, such as that," It's tongue lolled from the edge of its mouth, discarding its composed demeanor, and adopting one more befitting of a beast. "I have just the book for you."
From the case, the entity slipped a small booklet, one the size of a breast pocket on men's clothing.
"Take it," Pocketcat beckoned, Samarie taking the booklet from its clawed grip. "It contains a pair of names. Ones that are due to cause harm to the lady you speak of."
"The deal is struck," The cat's voice resonated with the fabric of reality, ackowledgement of what was agreed upon. "You needn't worry, clever lady. Once you are in possession of the heads, I will find you."
Samarie felt that the cat should have said the opposite, but her sense for the supernatural told her otherwise.
No matter where she hid, Pocketcat would find her.
"I wouldn't renege the contract."
"I wouldn't think it."
Teeth as bright as diamonds, and a smile that showcased them all.
"It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Samarie," The Pocketcat bowed, the wares disappearing with a snap of his fingers. "Let us see each other in better company."
One moment, it had been there.
The next, it was gone.
There was no dramatic flare.
Only an eerie silence, as a painful feeling twisted in Samarie's gut.
She survived the Pocketcat.
Unscaved, but feeling like she'd lost a lot more than she gained.
Though, because of the vow that was placed on her…
Samarie had a feeling she could bargain a bit more with the energies around her.
And her blessing agreed with that sentiment.
Knowledge flowed into her skull.
The deal with a malicious being caused her blessing to activate.
For how mysterious it was before, she had learned quite a lot as the festival progressed.
And with that knowledge, Samarie was one step closer to being the aegis that would keep Marina safe. That made her Feel safe.
"In exchange for being unable to use spells while not in the presence of Marina, and a weaker constitution," The vow clamped around her soul, pressing on the tethers connecting her to the Gods. "I shall gain an overall boost to my physical strength, and otherworldly output proportional to the danger Marina, or I am in."
The shackle clamped down, and Samarie tasted iron on her lips.
Her greatest strength was now locked.
But her physical body, the weak pile of flesh she used every day, suddenly exploded with vitality.
Well, false vitality.
With how the vow was structured, it did little to raise how sturdy she was.
Effectively, Samarie was a glass cannon.
But, with her lithe frame, she doubted anything could actually touch her.
Shaking her head, the girl focused on the most important matter.
Who would take a strike at Marina?
Opening the booklet, her eyes drifted on a pair of names written in fanciful lettering.
"Pav, Caligura…"
And while she wasn't quite familiar with the first name, Samarie was dreadfully intimate with the second.
It was the name that the boxer couldn't stop repeating in his head.
"Caligura, the mob boss."
The words tasted like fine wine on her lips.
Not because Caligura had been a good man.
But because she knew who her next target would be.
First, the father, then, the son.
Samarie cackled, for what felt like the first time.
Or perhaps it really was the first time she'd cackled in the first place.