The Implock – Chapter 109 – “Night Fishing”

∼ Night Fishing ∼

Chapter - 109

Slimy, wiggling, and splashing around, fish strained against the wooden confines of the barrel. In the dead of night, these were the only sounds on the still lake. Eric and Crowley simply sat there and enjoyed the silence, fishing and sharing a bottle of liquor. Eric had to admit, he had gotten quite the taste for both Crowley's whiskey and company. He doubted that ale or mead would ever taste the same again if he had to go back.

Crowley sipped on the bottle, sighing contentedly. "So,"

Eric looked at him questioningly.

"So?" He echoed.

"What do you think?" He turned to look at Eric, handing him the bottle. "What do you think about my daughter?"

Eric nearly dropped it, not having expected that. But at the older man's insistent glance, he feared giving the wrong answer as he was at a loss.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't think I understand." He said hesitantly, taking a swig.

"She fancies you a great deal. Y'know." He reigned in his fishing line a bit. "So, you fancy her?"

Eric choked on the whiskey, sputtering as he wiped his mouth.

Crowley merely snorted, then sighed. "I needn't tell ye that she's a special gal. Before you, she's taken no interest in no man,"

Eric felt as if this almost had to be some trick or something. But no. It wasn't.

"I'm... not sure." He admitted.

"Hm," Crowley hummed. "Another woman, perhaps? Gone or present?"

Eric flinched, the older and much more experienced man reading his pained but conflicted expression as if an open book. "Both?" He shook his head. "Oh, son. Tis'nae be good for the heart. Ye'll ruin yerself if you dinnae learn to both let go and choose. You understand?"

"I do..." Eric said slowly. "I've tried. But it's not easy."

"Ah, if it was easy, then it wouldnae is worth it. Anything worth doing has to be hard. One will never be able to appreciate life otherwise." He turned to face Eric. "So, you must."

"But I'm no noble," Eric said.

Crowley gave him an unreadable look, before looking away. "Ye see me bleeding blue?"

"You already know that I was but a filthy street urchin once upon a time. I've no nobility to wipe my arse with nor does my daughter to flaunt. But I'll no marry her off to some useless, softhanded pig. Not for any bounty of gold or empty title. All I do is for me and my girl. To live the life that she and I do."

"The life that you do..." Eric mumbled, looking out into the water.

"What, son?"

"That's how you justify it? Everything you do?"

Crowley shook his head. "No, I dinnae need to justify anything. I believe such privileged things are for dreamers. But lines I do have, although I may be a man of few morals. "

Eric couldn't help himself as his grip around the fishing rod tightened, a memory of a depraved inn resurfacing, and with it, all Eric's disgust of people. "Lines you say... even so, you seem more than willing to cross them."

Crowley frowned. "Yes, boy, lines. But no, I dinnae cross them, never will, and never have. Even a man such as myself has something or other to keep me from tipping over the deep end. To ground me."

"You say that... but how do you explain the inns? At Bellow's Strip. I saw it with my own eyes." Eric's voice had gotten heated, the need for an outlet rising.

"What the abyss are you talking about, son?"

"They were selling their bodies! Young boys, Crowley!"

A snap rang out across the calm lake, silence rushing back in to claim the space. Crowley's fishing rod had broken in two, the wood where he held it - pulverized to sawdust. As Eric looked into his steel-grey eyes, he saw only a bottomless pit of wrath. Never had Eric seen the composed old man so hateful. Angered. It was as if he was caught on this all-too-small boat with a ferocious beast.

But his aura retracted itself once again, Crowley calming down as he drew in one long breath. "Fucking Dredgers." Was all he muttered.

A moment passed before he turned to the stunned Eric and sighed. "What you speak of is no work of mine."

"I should've trusted me gut to not work with those degenerates."

Slowly taking it in, Eric frowned in confusion. "You're saying it's the Dredgers. Not the Stained Tooth?"

"Aye, none of my establishments sell the pleasures of the flesh." He spat in distaste. "That's the Dredgers specialty. But I've recently gone into agreement with them over a... separate working matter. I gave them access to my territory for them to set up brothels and the like in trade for their manpower. The agreement was one specifically to not peddle in the more exotic workers. But it would appear they've gone behind my back and pissed down my neck."

"I see..." Eric frowned.

"Did ye see any of my men in there?" He asked.

"They weren't wearing our colors and emblems. But their weapons, those, they could not hide."

Crowley's jaw clenched. "It's my fault. It would seem I've gone soft. They no longer fear me as they once did, to cross me and my rule so brazenly. I was going to find out at some point, so to think I wouldn't bother? A culling of ranks, Stained Tooth and Dredger alike is in order."

Feeling a bit ashamed, Eric couldn't really bring himself to look Crowley in the eyes. Of course, he had nothing to do with it. He knew the older man now, and as cruel and merciless as he was, he'd not commit such acts for a little bit of coin. Not for anything, for that matter. Sitting in silence, he didn't know what to say.

"Sorry, lad. It seems I've scared away the fish." Crowley chuckled, trying to cast away the somber mood. "Let's return. I believe we've got a few hearty fellows for dinner. I'll teach ye how to properly prepare these."

"Let's." Eric agreed.

As they began rowing back to the Docks, they both fell into silence. Eric had a lot of things on his mind. Mainly Freya and Crowley's unexpected inquiry regarding how he felt about her. It was a while before Eric suddenly spoke, keeping his gaze ahead towards the dock lights in the distance. "I don't think I could do the things you do..." He admitted.

Crowley took in a big breath through the nose, looking up at the starry sky that now had clouds rolling in. "Life isn't fair. It never was. It isn't now. And it won't ever be. I learned that a long time ago when I was sentenced to death by starvation for stealing a moldy loaf of bread despite it already being my fate before even committing the crime.

"There are those that care and those who do not. You can never rely on others' kindness to not ruin you. That's why I took matters into my own hands. I canna change the world so I do what I must. Those that matter to me are but family. The rest can go straight to the Abyss for all I care."

"How did you do it? Took matters into your own hands?"

"I killed my innocence. I killed a man."