Those Who Cannot Die - Levi Bible (the rosie project .TXT) 📗

was wearing a hood, and cloaked in a manner that none could see his face. Odd, Isaac thought. He was usually such a cheerful guy.
“Cornelius!” Isaac exclaimed, walking up to the man. His eyes widened in surprise to Isaac’s presence. He stood, his brown cloak swaying with every movement.
“Isaac! Long time no see!” the man exclaimed, removing his hood. “What are you doing in the outskirts of Rimini?” he asked, his face bright and optimistic as it always was.
“I could ask the same of you. And why the hood?” Isaac asked, the elation already over. Cornelius sat against the fountain again, looking at Isaac.
“Well, you see…” he said, looking behind Isaac. “I got in a bit of a hairy situation, and need to hide.” He put his hood back on, folding his hands and leaning forward so none could see his face.
“Who were you caught cheating on this time?” Isaac said, sitting by Cornelius.
“Well, er…” Cornelius started, “…I married the figlia da il sindaco, the daughter of the mayor…” Isaac slapped his own face. “…and he wants grandchildren…”
“I thought you learned this lesson. Che dolore! What a pain!” Isaac sighed. Cornelius looked around the square, shaking nervously.
“Well, we had been happily married until he decided to want a grandchild…” Cornelius muttered. “Normally I’d be happy to oblige, unfortunately after reincarnation, I no longer have what is needed for that…” He sighed. “That, or, I am just a really unlucky bastard.”
“Listen, Cornelius,” Isaac said, “I have a problem of my own, one that a mezzano such as yourself can help with.”
“Just because I love them doesn’t mean I manage who they sleep with.” Cornelius said. Isaac sat cross-armed, looking at Cornelius, who finally started laughing. “Fine. What do you need?”
“If I needed to know the location of a specific woman, where would I find her?” Isaac asked, Rose still plaguing his mind. Cornelius groaned.
“Well, it all depends. Recent or…” Cornelius started, looking up.
“Yes, recent. Her name is Rose, and…” Isaac started, Cornelius raised his hand.
“Rose? Only one Rose in this town. She is recent, too. A ruckus started over her and a few slavers a few hours ago. She was screaming...my god! Sono stato così stupido! I have been so stupid! She was screaming for you!” he stood, motioning for Isaac to follow. “Come, follow me!” He called, beginning to run. Isaac stood and followed, angered at himself for even asking. His goal was to dump her, and yet here he was trying to get her back? Why? The question stuck in his head.
The town gates began to close under the setting sun, Isaac and Cornelius already well beyond. Cornelius had been following a trail that looked as though it was from a horse-drawn carriage. The major town of Rimini could be seen in the distance, the smell of the sea filling Isaac’s nostrils. He preferred the smell of Venetian waters to the sea, but in the end it wasn’t his choice.
A horse-drawn carriage flew by, a blur against the rest of the forest. Isaac stopped for a moment, but decided to continue. Cornelius and Isaac arrived at Rimini, where there was a gathered crowd. Cornelius was backing away.
“Now, now…I am not cheating on you, dear…” Cornelius stammered, staring at a blonde-haired, brown-eyed, light-skinned, fabulously garbed woman. “…j-just give me a chance. You have to understand, I don’t want children!”
“Come now, how can you not want a child?” the woman demanded, stepping up to Cornelius. “The process isn’t hard…” she gingerly touched Cornelius’ chin, smiling.
“B-but…” Cornelius muttered, “…I don’t want a child! I…I can’t!” Isaac grinned at Cornelius’ act. Over two thousand years of practice, Isaac supposed.
“What do you mean, you can’t? Come, talk with me.” She ordered, her men grabbing Cornelius by each arm and carrying him off. Isaac stayed hidden. This was Cornelius’ problem, not his. He quickly made his way into Rimini, staying good distance behind Cornelius and his wife.
The gothic architecture of Rimini didn’t startle Isaac. In fact, it hadn’t been too long since he had been on the Eastern coast of Italy. One or two hundred years, give or take a few decades, he mused. He took a side street, separating his path from Cornelius’, and eventually made his way to the main streets. He was looking for slavers.


Chapter 3:
March 2, 1250-A Glimpse of What Was to Come
The next few weeks of looking for Rose were quite uneventful. I learned much about the city of Rimini, currently under the power of the Malatesta family. I had interrogated many slave traders, tortured some, killed others. My entire time there, I hadn’t seen Cornelius once. I assumed that would take on another form the next time I saw him; after all, his wife would probably have him executed. Not that it would really do anything, Cornelius would merely bounce right back.
In my time without her, I realized how valuable she could have been. Everything I was missing out on. Now that I realized that I still felt the pain of loss. I had tried so long to numb myself to it: I avoided relationships with people, rejected many kindnesses, even fled their hospitalities, but that pain found me. Found me where I hid from it most. Found me in time.
The search was that much harder without Cornelius there. Why did I have to get attached? Why don’t I walk away now? These questions filled my head as I desperately ransacked two houses, looking for any clues about her. It was sometime around then I decided to look toward the higher powers, to acquire the assistance of the Malatesta family.
I stood at the gates to the mansion, the gothic style of the building oppressing my very being. The stone arches and gargoyles set around the large stained-glass windows repelled visitors, their stony gaze inviting death and suffering to any who passed, or stared too long into their grey-blue weatherworn eyes. The only one among them scarier was me—my inner darkness. The hatred of all those wars I had fought so long ago. On the battlefield, as I am sure you have realized by now from my tale, I was Death. Indestructible. I was the unstoppable Roman soldier, the one of which many tales have been told.
I had been called the God of Death, the Grim Reaper, the Disease upon mankind. I slaughtered many an enemy, their faces of fear fill my vision to this day. And I knew, that war would never cease to plague me. My war on the “Red Flash”, the wars of Rome, even the war to save Earth. That, however, is a story for another time.

Isaac looked the two bodyguards in their eyes, hoping to avoid conflict so early. If need be, he would kill everything here, nothing would, and certainly nothing could, stop him. The guards naturally blocked his way.
“What business have you amongst the Malatesta?” the one on the left asked, his face covered completely with the steel mask. His burly frame made him a seemingly overwhelming opponent, but the weight also slowed him down. He also had slight weakness in his knees, if attacked correctly he would be incapable of standing back up.
“I am here to seek the guidance of the good Malatesta da Verruchio.” Isaac stated calmly, silently placing his hand on the hilt of his knife, the weapon to grant him entry should things get ugly. The man turned and entered the large building, the other guard watching him closely.
“What is it that you wish guidance on?” the man asked, showing signs of sympathy. Isaac studied him closely. A burly frame, just like the other, but this man seemed more fit as a farmer than a guard.
“The matters are private, thank you. What are you doing as a guard? You seem more like a—”
“Farmer? Yeah, I get that quite a bit.” He answered. “My father before me trained me to fight, fight off what was plaguing our ranch. One day when I returned home from gathering supplies, everything was destroyed.”
“Destroyed?” Isaac questioned, suspecting the “Red Flash” Disease.
“Yes. The sky was black, with ripples of purple. My family…” he said, slowly, “…my family lay slaughtered. The house burned to the ground, as well as all the cattle being mutilated and dead.”
“The ‘Red Flash’.” Isaac commented. “A plague upon the Earth. Certainly you are lucky not to have been caught by it.” The guard leaned against the gate. “My family died gruesome deaths as well. The house collapsed on us. My sister’s demolished face, my father’s bloody body…those never left my mind.”
The guard dismissed any thoughts of what Isaac had said. The other had exited the building, motioning for Isaac to follow. The guard by the gate held his tears, clearly Isaac had touched an old wound. This made him feel at the very least slightly better: he wasn’t the only one suffering at the hands of the Disease.
The vibrant red carpets sprawled out through the building, though the only bright color in the hall. The dark grey bricks and dull burning torches dampened the mood of the room drastically, sending Isaac’s brief happiness down a pit of despair. The guard clearly was no longer affected by the malicious darkness of the corridor, though Isaac detected a slight shiver go through the guard’s spine. The silence matched the hall, which went on seemingly without end.
The guard’s baldric had a broadsword attached, keeping it better than glued to his back, but was easily drawn if needed. His brown hair shown slightly from his reflective metallic helm, the sounds of his heavy footprints echoed throughout the hallway.
Finally, a door appeared, metal engravings and runes shone all over the door, the symbol of the Malatesta family crest, destroyed upon the face of the door. The guard opened it, a vast, bowl-like room spanned before him. The floor had a steady downwards incline, a hill sloped inwards. Isaac slid to the center of the room, looking around at the chains that hung from the ceiling.
Isaac sighed, looking at the darkened walls. He hadn’t found the Malatesta house. He should have suspected as much. Cracking his neck, Isaac looked at the chairs that stood before him now. Three shadowed figures sat in them.
“Child!” the man in the center shouted, standing, “What do you seek?” Isaac folded his arms, looking at the figure, whose features no longer existed due to the darkness in the room.
“I seek slave traders.” Isaac said. “Specific ones. Ones carrying a young woman named Rose.”
The man stepped out from the shadows. “I am Lord Cyrus. Hello, Isaac.” Isaac raised an eyebrow. “Shocked? She has told me much about you. About your power, your skill, your mission, even that which I find the best.” He smirked devilishly. “What I want the most, and what I will force from you. Your Immortality.”
Isaac started laughing hysterically. “Honestly? You must be joking.” The mood of the room returned to Isaac quickly. “Now, where is Rose? I wish to leave.”
Lord Cyrus snickered. “I don’t believe you get it. You aren’t leaving. And if you resist, we will kill Rose.” Isaac smirked.
“Go ahead. Saves me the trouble.”
“Truly? Then why do you put so much effort into finding her?”
“Simple. I want to know whether or not I have to kill her.” Isaac stated, knowing that deep inside this wasn’t the truth. He wanted her, and at the same time, knew she would die without him. He had to resist.
“If that is true,” Lord Cyrus mentioned, grabbing the figure to his left, “then you won’t mind her death right now.” There she stood; Rose. Her eyes were shut as if unconscious,