This is the seventh in Dusty's stories - as you may have noticed, I came up with a numerical theme for the stories and this is number 7.

What else but the Seven Deadly Sins - and the opposing Seven Heavenly Graces - for this story.

As before, I hope you enjoy the story.

pictures from Google free to use search

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

---

The cafe girl and the Shudder Sister disappeared into one of the houses.

The house they had chosen was one without a wall around the yard area so anyone approaching could easily be seen.

Dusty saw the door swing shut behind them and she became ever more wary as she advanced.

It would be almost impossible to go the same way as the Shudder Sister and her charge, the direct route would leave Dusty open to observation from any number of vantage points, so Dusty backed off.

She retraced her steps to the covered alley and took a chance on figuring out the correct house from the front entrances.

She counted five doors from the alley to the house, and was certain she had the right one.

The front door and the window were heavily boarded and therefore would be too difficult to get in by.

A few more doors past the one she needed was another alley, so she dodged under the window of the house she needed and slunk towards the alley.

The alley was strewn with rubble and things she didn’t like to think about as she picked her way along in the dark.

Something was preventing the sunlight from illuminating the passage and it wasn’t as easy to pass through as the other one had been.

An old and battered gate leaned against the entrance to the alley when she got to the end but she could see that there were no nasty surprises awaiting her as she emerged.

She counted her blessings as she scoped out the path to the door of the house she needed.

The way was clear if she hugged the buildings and ducked under the windows.

Fences which had marked the separations between the houses had already been cleared and she could get right up to the door.

The only thing she had to worry about was how to actually get into the house.

Dusty looked up and saw the drainpipe leading from the roof.

It was old and rusted in places but it was also one that had been built to last.

It was a cast iron drainpipe and the sturdy metal joints were fixed to the wall by large metal pins.

Dusty tugged the pipe, it was going nowhere.

Dusty scaled the wall up to the next floor. The window frame had not been made in the same era and it was rotten and crumbling – that was probably why the glass had dropped out.

Dusty clambered over the soggy wooden frame and dropped without a sound onto the floor of the room beyond.

She remained in a crouching position as she listened for any noise. There was a muted mumbling but she thought it was too far away to be coming from anyone in the house.

Then she thought about it.

The old houses had a coal cellar; that was most likely where they were.

Dusty kept to the edges of the room where the floorboards were less likely to be rotten or creaky and she used the same method to get down the stairs.

Leaning on the banister rail, she used the edges of each step to get down to the ground floor.

She looked around the edge of the doorframe at the bottom of the stairs and saw someone standing on the other side of the room. He seemed to be waiting for someone to come through the back door.

He was expecting Dusty to arrive at any moment.

She didn’t like to disappoint him and he was unaware of her until she planted her boot in the lower part of his spine to send him smashing, head-first into what was left of the kitchen sink.

He wasn’t out for the count but he was dazed and Dusty followed up her advantage by grabbing a generous hank of his hair so she could pull his head back and slam his face onto the metal edge of the sink.

His nose seemed to explode on impact and she felt him go limp under her grasp.

“Naughty, you’re so much bigger than I am. A fight would be totally one-sided,” she said to his unconscious form.

His nose was still bleeding and she took just a moment to place him in the recovery position so that he wouldn’t choke on his own blood.

His blood mingled with the dust and grime on the floor, making a disgusting puddle under his cheek.