When you drink this, it will change your appearance to that of a red-skinned oni. Then and only then do you make your move, understand?

That whore of a witch spoke to him like he was dumb or something. The Spider knew how to carry out a killing. He’d done it hundreds of times.

She’s deliberately disrespecting you, Nazrednas said, his voice more high pitched and moaning than ever.

I know that, you idiot! the Spider bit back. “I won’t let her. I won’t! The whore. That bitch!”

That bitch! Nazrednas echoed inside the Spider’s mind. He never went away, never stopped his incessant screeching and moaning and whimpering. Sometimes the Spider thought this ghost was the spirit of his first murdered victim.

He had sounded like that...

Who do you speak of, Spider? Nazrednas moaned like a dying old man.

Silence! We have work to do. We’ll figure out what to do with that Witch later.

Yes!

I SAIDS SILENCE, YOU FILTH!

Nazrednas ceased.

“Ah, we go to the Veravid quarter,” he whispered to himself. “There will be best. Best, yes!” He cackled and scurried into the crowd, preparing to drink that bedeviled potion the whore witch gave him.

He wanted to complete this task without it, but he saw no other way.

Wait! he thought. Yes!

He laughed aloud, drawing the attention of onlookers as he weaved through the crowds, aiming his abnormally long nose like a buzzard that had gotten first sight on a carcass.