The Reaper's Wicked Obsession
Chapter 27: Why Gift A Dagger To A Prey?

Chapter 27: Why Gift A Dagger To A Prey?

The vessel made a stop at a small island, it was a little town that welcomed sailors for supplies and an inn for rest. The plan was to switch vessels to avoid being tailed.

Isadora’s mind was left reeling about what happened with Kraven.

It was hard not to think about it because each step was a reminder whenever she felt the holster digging into her skin uncomfortably, she couldn’t wait to get somewhere private and readjust the thing.

Why did Kraven give her a dagger?

That question kept plaguing her. He’s obsessed with killing her so why give her a weapon? Was this one of his sick twisted games again?

’He could be mocking you because you can’t use it,’ She thought angrily, glaring daggers at the back of his head.

Because of her death glare, she missed a step and almost fell into the muddy ground but Rav held her by the arm to balance her.

"Careful"

Isadora growled standing upright and pretending she wasn’t just about to fall flat on her face.

Rav stared perplexed, she was more frustrated than usual, he expected her to be wary because this place was more like the alley back at Brookcrest, worst. Many outlaws welcomed this place as their meeting ground, this was a lawless island, just a smaller one.

"You’re not scared of this place?" he asked and Isadora gave him a confused look. "This is Grim Isle, you know about the Isle’s right?"

Isadora got more confused shaking her head in a no. She swept her gaze around the place.

She was so caught up in her head that she was unable to take in the environment.

The sunlight barely pierced through the dense brooding clouds, and everything hung low over the horizon, giving a sense of coming rain and storms, matching the gloomy effects of the area with a vibe of lost hope and deprivation.

The streets were paths of dirt and mud, littered with discarded refuse and broken wooden cups—leftovers of night’s brawl.

Isadora wrinkled her nose, the strong stench of soiled bodies and blood, mingling with the smoke that drifted from a blacksmith’s forge.

The occupants moved through the town with a cold, indifferent demeanor, their faces either exposed or hidden beneath hoods, carrying weapons around.

From where she comes from she knew much that people don’t just expose weapons, even shops sold secretly but here it seems they do boldly, too boldly.

She gulped, finally getting a glimpse of what Rav was trying to say. The state of this town could get someone running for their heels. It was an entire world that no one would step foot in.

"The Isle’s... they’re outlaws havens," Rav explained.

She faced him and asked. "Does this mean pirates are here too?" The thought overwhelmed her.

This pirate rune on her wrist was still a bold declaration of what she was to them, they may have gone but it didn’t erase it.

"Don’t worry, pirates don’t come to rundown places like this,"

Isadora sighed in relief but it didn’t stop the awareness she suddenly had about this place.

With two outlaws was one thing but an island filled with them? Each situation she encountered worsened like the gods were casting game dice on her fate. Were they?

They stepped into an inn filled with customers, drinking and laughing.

Isadora thought attention would be on them but it seemed like this place paid no mind to anyone, they were all the same after all.

They took their seats at a table, Isadora’s wide eyes looking around, a pending feeling like something was about to jump on her.

Kraven suddenly dropped his sword on the table, startling her. She stared at him irritably before looking away.

Kraven grinned at her displeased features, having a kick at frustrating her to no end. His eyes noted how she uncomfortably shifted on the chair, his bet was the holster was causing her great distress.

"What can I get you, lads?" a woman walked up to them wiping her hands with a towel. She wore a bored expression and was unwelcoming, treating their threatening aura as a mere annoyance.

"Something decent" Rav replied and she snorted.

"Nothing decent around here"

"Something edible then?" Kraven cut in and she darted her eyes on him, she stiffened at his silver eyes completely out of place and unsettling.

"S-Sure" she nodded slowly, now wary, her thoughts trying to match what was before her and she sure hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was.

"Two rooms too while you’re at it, as you can see the lady needs to get comfortable" he stressed his last word, eyeing Isadora dangerously who did everything she could to avoid meeting eyes with him.

He threw some silvers on the table.

"Of course," she gathered them. "Follow me?"

Isadora gulped looking over to Rav who gave a nod of approval. She cautiously looked over the woman who seemed to be running out of patience.

Collecting herself, she followed.

~♧~

The moment Isadora was alone in her room, she locked the door.

Raising her skirt, she tampered with the holster, it took a minute before she could undo it and the strap came off. She released a sharp breath of relief and sat on the bed.

She took off the scarf around her head, running a hand through her hair, her gaze descended and eyed the redness on her thigh.

Anger boiled within her not because it would leave a scar on her porcelain skin but because of the satisfaction Kraven had throughout her distress.

She despised it. She had never hated someone as much as she did now and wished hell and doom for them. Her wrath was now dipped in oil ready to burn to the last minute without stopping.

She took the blade and observed unusual markings on the steel she couldn’t read, the blade was exceptionally small compared to the ones Kraven flung around, it was almost like it was perfect for her.

’Damn you, Kraven!’