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“I was contacted by an employer calling himself the Necromancer.” Sir Scary responded. A bit of terror twisted in his gut at the name but it wasn’t like he hadn’t expected it. He stifled a shiver, telling himself it was better than the alternatives. Secretly he was just relieved it wasn’t his father who’d made the contract.

After a moment, Sir Scary actually continued as if it didn’t really matter anymore.

“I have a virus affecting me and my behavior.” Alessio tensed. “It is not contagious, but it isn’t leaving my system. My payment is a cure.”

Did the Necromancer finally find a way to make it not contagious? No, probably not. Hopeful not…

But either way one thing was for sure.

“He was lying.” Alessio said, almost unconsciously curling his legs into his chest. Devils, he didn’t want to think of that, but he couldn’t hate anybody so much he’d wish the inevitable consequences of dealing with him on them.

“The Necromancer is a master manipulator and he’ll say anything you want to hear.” He mumbled “but I can promise you as soon as you kill me he’ll deal with you the same way. And if you back out now he’ll be out for blood, you’re best chance is to fake your death and hope he doesn’t care enough to inquire further.”