243 The Curse of Valentine Hymes

"I've got it," he said, stumbling on the sofa with the backpack on the floor.

The young medical student leaned back and closed his eyes, resting. He looked like he had just run a marathon.

"What have you got?" asked Derrick Damreau curiously. The young man's state made his mind wander. What could the young man have collected for him to be exhausted like that?

Not responding to the question, Luuk kept his eyes closed and breathed slowly. The breeze that came from the back rubbed his face softly.

Finally, the young man opened his eyes and looked at his neighbor's client before replying, "It's what Mr. Hymes asked. You can ask him what it's for, although I doubt he will answer."

Derrick nodded. He realized that a lot of the things that the detective had done were not disclosed to him, and he respected that. As long as his safety was guaranteed, he didn't care whatever means the man used.

"Anyway, where is Mr. Hymes?" asked Luuk while looking around. He hadn't seen his neighbor since he came back.

"He went out to buy some stuff. He should be back soon," replied Derrick.

Luuk then got up and took a bottle of cold water from the fridge, gulping down the liquid in one go. It instantly cooled down his body as it washed away his fatigue... to some extent.

Just as he was about to put back the empty bottle in the fridge, the villa door was opened and Valentine Hymes returned, carrying a briefcase with him.

"You've returned," he greeted his housemate shortly, "Did you get the stuff?"

Walking to his backpack, Luuk lifted it and nodded, "Yes. Everything's here."

He stretched his hand and handed the light backpack to the detective, who took a look at the content once he received it.

"Great. Then I shall start now. Please entertain our guest in the meantime," he requested.

Valentine actually didn't want to leave Derrick alone while he was doing his supernatural thing because the man might snoop around, although the chances of that happening were low.

With a nod, Luuk then went back sitting on the sofa that was facing the back of the villa. He leaned back leisurely and watched the swimming pool in front of him and the ocean in the distance while his guest looked around in confusion. Derrick didn't seem to know what to do now.

Thud!

The office door was closed as Valentine left the two men on their own devices.

He put down the briefcase and the Luuk's backpack near the desk before closing the blinds, obstructing vision to his office from the outside. The room was now dim and gloomy, fitting the thing that the owner was about to do there.

Touching the book, he could feel that it was starving. He hadn't given the book any use since he obtained it and now it was deprived of the ritualistic energy that it so wanted. It seemed to be trying to influence Valentine to use it.

Throwing the book on the desk abruptly, Valentine ignored its desperate plea. Instead, he took out four orange candles from his briefcase and set them around the book, designating it as an altar for his Cursing Ritual.

In the dark office room, Valentine picked up his dagger and pressed the sharp, cold blade against the skin of his palm. He was now so used to the sensation that he no longer felt pain from it, although there was no scar on his palm whatsoever.

The warm, red blood came dripping out of the wound and dropped on to the blue book. With a motion of his hand, Valentine drew the sigil of the Deity of Serpents and Death on the artifact. Strangely, it appeared that the book was also consuming his blood as he drew the sigil, making the process more difficult and tiresome.

Once the sigil had been finished, a strange sensation came from it. It felt sinister, yet comforting to Valentine. It was akin to the feeling of being friends with death itself.

Shaking the feeling off, Valentine opened Luuk's backpack and took out all of the contents, placing them on the desk.

There were mostly strands of hair with nail clippings mixed in. There were also some intact nails, which got his attention. However, what raised Valentine's eyebrows was when he found that there was a severed pinky finger among the harmless body parts, no longer bloody, but still grotesque nonetheless.

"How do you think he got this, G?" asked muttered Valentine in amusement.

Before using the targets' body parts in the ritual, Valentine had to use Reveal on them all to make sure they did belong to his targets. Although he trusted Luuk, something unexpected might have happened along the way that even the young Thief hadn't been aware of.

"I ask that you reveal your secrets to me!"

Illusory letters began appearing above the hair strand that quickly formed a comprehensible text. Valentine read through the text quickly and repeated his ability with all the body parts on the desk.

Once he was sure that everything belonged to his targets, Valentine placed the body parts on the sigil, stacking them up high because of the lack of surface. He also took out the materials that he had just bought earlier from the briefcase.

In his hand now, there was an object that looked like old tree bark, almost pitch black in color and all wrinkled. It emitted an ominous aura, and holding it for too long caused his skin to loosen like it had aged rapidly. Valentine quickly placed the tree bark on top of the rest of the stuff on the sigil.

After it was ready, he lit the four candles starting from the one pointing north all the way to the west.

Strangely, the candles being lit didn't make the room any brighter, but instead, it felt somewhat darker. But it was a kind of darkness that blanketed Valentine gently with its sweet embrace, calming his nerves and enhanced his focus.

His face was illuminated by the dim candlelight, and there was an inexplicable expression of calmness on Valentine's face. With the flames reflected in his eyes, he began chanting softly.

I, in the name of the Deity of Serpents and Death, offer you these sacrifices..."

...

"Sweety, give me more beer!" a man shouted.

That late morning, the private bar was bustling with activities and chattering, with shouting and yelling mixed in occasionally. It was the kind of bar that was located in a secret place and only those with invitations could come in. However, judging from the looks of it, it was a third-rate private bar at best, the one that only lowly thugs would book.

A woman wearing a thin, tight dress walked towards the shouting man, who looked to be in his mid-thirties, with two bottles of beer in her hand. She then sat on the armrest and handed one of the beers right to the man's hand and put the other on the table. The bald man with a face tattoo smiled cheekily at the woman and rubbed her fingers as he was taking the bottle.

Pa!

He slapped the woman's bottom playfully as she left his seat, to which the woman only scoffed jokingly.

Another man, who was tall and serious-looking, was sitting opposite the face-tattooed man and grabbed another bottle from the table in front of him. He seemed to be just a little younger than the bald head.

"Did you also feel that earlier?" he asked.

"Feel what, Tucker?" the bald man asked back, confusedly.

"Nothing," he replied.

The noisy music kept on playing and the sounds of laughter became louder. Some other men in the other part of the bar were cheering on two people who were fighting. The fighters, obviously drunk, felt invigorated because of the cheering and their fight became more intense.

"Yeah!! Beat him!! He took your pinky finger so bite his nose!"

"Fuck him up, Thijs! Bite off another finger!"

"Bruno, prove to that pussy who is the real man!!"

Sounds of smacking followed the shouting and grunts of pain shortly after.

"Idiots. All of them," the serious-looking man scoffed.

He leaned back on the sofa and crossed his legs. His grey eyes were looking around in disdain at the chaos that was happening in the bar.

"Hahaha! Don't be such a party-pooper, Jesse. Let the boys enjoy themselves once in a while. We're going to be very rich, after all!! Hahaha!!" the bald man raised his beer bottle and drank the content all at once. Once it was empty, he picked up the other bottle on the table.

"Nothing is definite yet. It all depends if we can pull it out tomorrow or not," replied the man called Jesse coldly.

"You are always too serious. Drink some more. You're more fun when you're drunk! Hahaha!!" the bald man laughed. His face had turned red and his mood was elevated by the alcohol. There were eleven empty beer bottles on the table in front of him already, but it seemed that he could still drink a lot more.

"I'm not getting drunk before a big day, Julian. Anyway, any news about that traitor Derrick?"

The bald man gave Jesse an angry glance for a second. After that, he continued drinking until there was no more beer inside the bottle.

"Don't remind me about that whoreson. It makes me angry. He should be dead now. I've sent Benson and Ruben." he said rather seriously, and then looked back to the waitress who was sitting at the bar, "Sweety, more beers here! And bring a lot!"

"There has been no news from them, though. Although you're right. That Derrick won't be able to do anything with those two people on his tail," Jesse said.

"Yes, so just enjoy our time today. We're gonna be R-R-RICH tomorrow!! Hahahaha!!!"

Jesse was looking with lust in his eyes at the sexy waitress whose make-up was on the heavy side, most likely to cover the imperfection on her face. The curves on her body and her big breast garnered his utmost attention, however.

"So you know how to have fun after all, hahaha!" teased Julian, the bald man, "Tomorrow, you'll be able to buy any woman you want!"

Jesse smiled.

"For tomorrow!" he raised his beer bottle.

"For tomorrow!" Julian raised his new beer bottle and had a toast with the serious-looking man.

Clank!

The sound of bottles hitting each other marked the beginning of their bright future, or so they thought.

Suddenly, the two of them felt chill down their spines. Jesse looked at Julian and then they looked around curiously. It was an underground bar, so there shouldn't be any breeze coming in. Besides, the temperature in the room wasn't that cold either.

"What was that? Barman, turn down the fan!!" shouted a man from another seat.

Getting angry looks from the customers, the bartender quickly twisted the button for the fan, slowing down its spin.

"Boss, that guy needs to be taught a lesson," shouted another man, looking at Julian.

"Leave him alone, will you! Don't let it ruin our day today!" replied Julian nonchalantly.

Despite the fan having been turned down, the same chill came again, causing them to shiver for a second and look around in suspicion. However, it seemed that only Julian and his men felt it. The waitresses and the bartender were looking at their customers with a concerned look.

"Fucking barman, something must be broken! Why is it cold in here?!" a big-bodied woman shouted.

The barman, in panic, turned off all of the fans altogether. However, it seemed that his customers were still not satisfied.

"Fuck! Why is it getting colder? Barman, what did you do?" came an angry voice from another spot.

"I-I turned off the fan, so it shouldn't be colder," replied the bartender scaredly.

"What the hell is happening?" Julian looked at his men.

The chill had returned, and now it lingered. Although it was nearing Winter, at that time of the year in Rijssen, the temperature shouldn't be that cold. It was as if they had suddenly become more sensitive to the cold.

"Is it only us? Those waitresses seem alright. What is happening?" Jesse added. His body was shivering a little. He then crossed his arms to warm himself up.

Suddenly, he felt something weird happening. The moment his skin touched, he felt that it was too loose and wrinkled, unlike usual. He then raised his arms and looked at them in surprise.

"What in the world! What is this?!"

His skin had aged! It was like looking at the arms of a seventy-year-old man!

After that, he felt inexplicably tired and his core strength was disappearing. The body that could sit straight before had no choice but to bend as his head felt heavier and heavier.

In puzzlement, Jesse looked around and terror struck him.

Julian had grown several decades older!

The bald and tattooed man in front of him was no more, and in his place, an elderly man with loose skin and distorted face tattoo was sitting weakly. His pupils looked greyish and his expression tired. Gone was the youthful energy that he had possessed just a moment ago.

"What the fuck is happening to us!!" Julian shouted, but only a weak, elderly voice came out of his mouth.

His body that had been full of flesh and muscles earlier was now bony and wrinkled, the skin hanging loose from his arms.

"What is this?! Help!!"

"God! What is happening to me!!"

"Why am I like this??!!"

Weak shouting and scared screaming filled the bar. The bartender and the waitresses, who were somewhat unaffected, looked in horror as their guests had suddenly changed. They didn't know what had happened, and the fear of the unknown was the worst.

The bar that had been lively with young men and women enjoying themselves earlier had now been replaced by a place full of dread and terror as the elderly patrons were shouting in chaos.