Nezumi was terrified, horrified, petrified, and every other word describing a fearful state all at once. There was no one word to describe the soul quaking sense of doom that the old woman had inspired within him.
Here he was, his arms and legs bound in rusty chains and his stomach bared at the mercy of this mad woman. She openly pondered about the best way to use his entrails, or if it was better to turn him into a zombie. At least she discarded the idea of sacrificing him to whatever dark god she worshiped.
The flames of his hope sparked and sputtered back to life when someone interrupted her deranged thoughts. Even what little he could see of the man in the gloom of this sewer didn't give him much confidence, but beggars couldn't be choosers. After listening to the old woman talk to him, it was clear that the man wasn't any ally of hers. He just wished they weren't as helpless to the flute as he had been.
Nezumi conjured up some courage and shouted, "Help! I'll give you as much money as you want, just get me away from this crazy bitch!"
"Shush you! Can't you see Granny is trying to get some action?" the crazy old bat hissed at him.
That was all the newcomer needed, though, as he lunged forward with a drawn short blade. Nezumi was so sure that it was over that he sagged in relief. What few doubts still rested in his heart vanished the moment the blade bit into the wrinkled flesh of the old woman's neck.
"Hurry up and get me out of these chains! I'm already going to need a tetanus shot for this-!" Nezumi choked on the words, because the other man wasn't listening.
No, the other man was still on guard, for the old woman was still standing, even with her throat gushing blood.
"Naughty," the old woman chuckled, raising that wretched flute to her lips.
The stranger broke free from his own surprise and aimed a blow for the flute, but the old woman almost casually side stepped the attack. After that, it was too late. The music began once again, and the stranger was caught in the spider's web.
…
'This isn't ideal,' Daud thought, as he was being bound in much the same way as his target had been. 'I suppose it could be worse, though…'
People who weren't familiar with him would probably question how that could be. He wouldn't answer them, but if he were to do so, then he'd say "At least she isn't Cheapshot."
Doomed was still doomed, of course, but he wasn't really doomed here. It was just his duplicate that was captured by the Granny Rags. Cheapshot would have known the difference, unlike the old witch, so he still had some options.
How was he going to play this, though? He'd already plugged his ears as best as he could, but he wasn't totally sure that would actually work, so he needed a better plan of action than just 'Charge in and hope for the best.' Not that he usually did things that way regardless.
He'll have to incapacitate her somehow. She wasn't a logia fruit user, he was fairly certain of that, which means she survived her cut throat by some other means. A means that may protect her from other similarly lethal wounds. Hm.
For now, he'll distract her from the target. Can't have the captain getting gutted whilst he was still brainstorming.
…
"Does the offer to jump in your bed still stand?" the stranger asked just as the mad woman was approaching Nezumi again with the knife.
Nezumi was greatly relieved that the other man had drawn her attention away from vivisecting him, but he'd be lying if he didn't say he was baffled by the question. Nezumi would honestly rather die than do that with her.
"Had a change of heart, did you?" she asked in turn. "Want to rattle these old bones, hm?"
Nezumi suppressed the urge to gag.
"I'm afraid it is a little too late for that. You've gone and got blood all over my favorite blouse, and blood stains are so very difficult to get out," she shook her head and tutted. "I'm rather upset about that. Maybe you can make it up to me another way, perhaps?"
"I'm listening," the stranger said.
She smiled, "Well, it won't matter if there are blood stains, if I dye the whole thing in blood, no? And it looks like you'd got plenty enough to get the job done."
Nezumi expected her to cackle, but she made no such noise. She did laugh, but it was such a normal old lady laugh that that itself was unnerving, given how abnormal the owner of the laugh actually was.
Out of the corner of his eye, Nezumi saw something move. He didn't dare to look, not even with just his eyes. Whatever or whoever it was, if they were here to help, then it was in his best interest to ignore them. The stranger seemed to have the same idea, because despite having a better line of sight on the newcomer, he didn't look their way either.
Or maybe Nezumi was having a fear induced hallucination. He sure hoped not.
…
Daud managed to slip beneath Granny Rags notice into a room off to the side of the cistern she called home. His duplicate had spotted it, and while there were no guarantees of anything of use being in there, he was willing to take the chance.
Inside, the thing that stood out most prominently to him was a sizable portrait of a woman. Instantly, Daud could see the resemblance between the subject of the painting and Granny Rags. Perhaps it was Granny Rags herself in the past, or someone related to her.
Probably the former, now that he could see Sokolov's signature near the bottom. Granny Rags was likely from the same generation as the artist, so it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he'd painted it in their youth, when he wasn't so picky.
Daud ignored it for now, choosing instead to rifle through the drawers in the room as quickly and quietly as he could. Any sort of leverage he could hold over her would…
Would that work? Daud studied the painting once more. Unlike everything else in here which was covered in some amount of grime, the painting was pristine. No small amount of effort had to go into keeping it this way.
Daud made up his mind, prying the painting off the way and moving into the cistern once more.
…
"Granny Rags," the newcomer announced his presence. Nezumi couldn't help but to look now, but then it hardly mattered since the man had revealed himself already.
Nezumi was prepared to curse the newcomer out for doing exactly that, abandoning his advantage. However, the appearance of the man caught him completely off guard.
He was identical to the first man, only… the first man vanished. There had never been two men to begin with, huh? That lifted Nezumi's spirits, for it meant the stranger was not so inept as he'd thought!
"You-!" the hag screeched.
"Ah-ah-ah," the stranger placed his blade against the throat of… a painting. A painting? What the fuck was going on? Nezumi was so, so lost. "Don't move a muscle, Rags. Or the painting gets it."