《Petrichor》


 Chapter 1

    --Tuesday--


    Thirty-eight liters of blood, purchased through an underground seller, were painted into lines on the concrete floor. It was a circular diagram that was mirrored onto the ceilings and walls of the tiny room. Inside each of the circles was a square, and inside those, a six sided star. Along the lines were runic letters, though the artist had no idea what they meant.


    Where the lines of the circle met square, candles had been placed. Because the room was completely sealed, except for a large metallic door, smoke had started to fill the room. The oxygen in the room would start depleting quite quickly, so the singular person trapped within this room hastedly set a clay skull in the center of the design. He was wearing a strange robe: completely black and with orange markings across it, and a hood, but covering his face was a WWII era gas mask. He was wearing gloves and boots, and the robe tapered off not into a dress, but pants, which were tucked into the shoes. It completely shielded his skin from the smoke, but not from the heat. Underneath, the boy setting up this ritual was sweating.


    Of course, it wasn¡¯t only from the heat.


    Ern¡¯s only guide to setting up this ritual was the book his parent¡¯s had left him, but it was in German and difficult to translate. Everything was handwritten, and Ern had bad eyesight. This wasn¡¯t a complicated ritual, or at least it wasn¡¯t supposed to be, but that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t dangerous.


    A drop of sweat rolled from the top of his brow down to his nose, and he pressed it against the inside of his mask to quash it.


    Bah. It baffled him why he felt so worried. What was the worst that could happen? Loss of his soul and life? Who cares about that, he never used them anyway.


    Still, Ern¡¯s shoulders were tense as he overlooked the tattered pages one last time before shoving it into his pocket. He didn¡¯t understand the words written, but they were spell phonetically, and it was easy just locking those to memory. From his other pocket, he pulled out a small knife, then took his right glove off, exposing it to the elements. It felt nice and cool. Drawing the blade across his thumb to draw blood, Ern began chanting off those strange words in hopes that he wouldn¡¯t accidentally misplace them. Who the hell knew what would happen if he messed up? As he continued the chant, the blood fell down to the skull and stained it. After a few seconds, the candles in the room were snuffed out.


    Pitch black darkness engulfed Ern, and he held his breath.


    A heavy hand was resting against his shoulder.


    This was direct contact, bypassing the multiple layers of clothes he was wearing and pressing immediately to his skin. It was cold, and he felt wind swirling around and rustling his robes.


    Ern coughed, though he didn¡¯t need to, and waited. The weight lifted from his body, and he shook his arm.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Ern asked. ¡°Anyone there? Oh, wait, that¡¯s not right. I¡¯m supposed to be assertive at this part, aren¡¯t I? Hmm. Okay, well in that case, let¡¯s take this a step back, alright? Hello, diabolic spirit I¡¯ve summoned into my body, hope you¡¯re having a good night so far. Ha! Of course you are. Anyway, my name is Ernest Charles Schweighardt, and I¡¯m now claiming my right as a descendant of Hanz Fergun Schweighardt, the same deal made by your ancestors, for you to pay tithe and submit yourself as my servant. I am taking ownership with my soul.¡±


    Those were mostly the correct words to say, more or less. Nothing happened for a while, and Ern sighed. Well, this seemed to be a failure, but at least he still had his soul. He pulled the gas mask off and tossed it to the ground and went to the door, waving his arms to push the smoke out of his face.


    He stepped into a puddle of something.


    ¡°Ouch!¡±


    ¡°Ah?¡±


    ¡°Human¡­¡± A dark voice echoed in the room, though it sounded surprisingly high pitched and cute. ¡°I have answered your call. The pact has been set.¡±


    ¡°Hold on one sec,¡± Ern said, once again stepping into the puddle and hurting the voice. He swung the door open, illuminating the room. The thing he had summoned, supposedly an all powerful shade, was sitting in front of him. Far different from what he had expected, this creature was about the size of a dinner plate, and made out of some kind of black goop. A single yellow eye floated through the center, changing from transparent to opaque every few seconds. It was curled up, almost like a snake. ¡°Huh. You¡¯re kind of tiny, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Tiny?¡±


    The shade swelled up, then eyed itself.


    ¡°You bastard!¡± It cried. ¡°What have you done to me? Trapped me in this tiny form!¡±


    ¡°Ah, I didn¡¯t do it on purpose, you gotta believe me,¡± Ern said, holding his hands up in apology. ¡°I might have messed up some of the lines. I mean, I can¡¯t speak German. Only English.¡±


    ¡°Then I was summoned here...to serve someone incompetent? Did your masters never teach you anything?¡±


    Ern thought about it for a second.


    ¡°No, not really,¡± he said. ¡°A few tricks, but nothing useful. Ha. Anyway, we need to make like, a contract or something now, right? Or did that already happen?¡±


    The shade was silent. For some reason, it seemed far more emotional than Ern had expected, which tickled him. As his new familiar kept itself quiet, Ern shrugged and started disrobing. Underneath the dark robe were white cloth ritual undergarments, and under those were some of his normal clothes. He stripped out of those as well, standing completely naked. It was then that he noticed the markings on his stomach; a circle imprinted around his belly button with lines going inward. A thick dotted line stretched from the center up to his bony chest, where a triangle formed between his nipples. He rubbed at it, as though expecting it to sting, but it just felt like flesh.


    ¡°I assume this is important, right?¡± Ern asked, reaching randomly to grab his glasses from the workshop table in his basement. His vision was pretty poor, and without these, he might as well have been blind. ¡°Does this mean we¡¯re contracted? Come on little guy, you gotta know more about this, don¡¯t ya?¡±


    It growled at him.


    ¡°Huh, for shame, and I thought we coulda had a great relationship here. Anyway, you got my name, right? But just call me Ern. That should work.¡±


    ¡°...you¡¯re being serious right now.¡±


    ¡°Eh, sort of?¡±


    ¡°Damn them all,¡± the shade said. It made some sort of raspy metallic sound, and Ern could tell that it was a sigh. He could feel the emotions of his shade transmit themselves to him. ¡°Summoned and bound to an incompetent child...in such a form¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry about your form. It¡¯s cute and cuddly! Like a cat!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I can¡¯t promise that.¡±


    A few more seconds of silence went by before Ern¡¯s stomach rumbled. He rubbed his belly.


    ¡°Yo, shade familiar thing,¡± Ern started. ¡°Do you eat?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a sort-of. Anyway, let¡¯s get this over with so I can go find some food.¡±


    ¡°Wait, master,¡± the shade begrudgingly said. ¡°The contract isn¡¯t complete. I¡¯m...this is serious, you know.¡±


    ¡°Okay then. What do I do?¡±


    The puddle of shadow vanished, then a moment later, it had wrapped itself around Ern¡¯s arm, slithering out of his belly button like a snake. It began to melt into his body, its dark form stitching into his skin and leaving slightly brighter marks than the ones on his torso. Though it was completely weightless, the movements it made tingled Ern in a way that made his hair stand up. Finally complete, when he heard the shade speak, it was directly into his mind.


    ¡®My...master, I am Bezret, and I have heeded your call, Ernest Charles Schweighardt, to pay respects for the ancestral agreement of your bloodline. I will continue to serve until your body or soul has perished, and then, and only then, will I claim the payment owed. For this, our contract is formed.¡±


    ¡°Cool.¡±


    ¡°...you¡¯re supposed to say: I accept.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry. I accept.¡±


    ¡°Then the contract will be bound,¡± Bezret said, the words tapering off at the end. ¡°Call my name when you need me.¡±


    And then it was just Ern, standing alone, completely naked, in his basement. It was a horrific room, filled with the dark experimentational tools of a magus, but to him, it was absolutely normal. None of his normal clothes were down here, so he grabbed the pile of sweaty robes he had just been using and went upstairs. After tossing them into the wash (which he didn¡¯t turn on), he continued to find some sweats and a hoodie. Casual-style clothes, suited for the weather and going out, but not anything too fancy. As always, there wasn¡¯t any food at his house, so if he wanted to get dinner, it¡¯d need to be out somewhere.


    ¡°Bezret,¡± Ern called out. A moment later, in his head, was the response.


    ¡®Yes?¡¯


    ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡®...¡¯


    ¡°Do you not know?¡±


    ¡®It is eight o¡¯clock...roughly¡­¡¯


    ¡°Awesome. Thanks.¡±


    The shade grumbled and sunk back into Ern¡¯s mind.


    It wasn¡¯t too late to head over to the nearest convenience store and grab something to snack on, so Ern went to grab another jacket to layer over himself. It wasn¡¯t that cold outside yet, but when he peeked through the window, he could see drops of rain starting to fall. There was no reason not to be careful.


    ¡°To umbrella,¡± Ern started to himself. ¡°Or not to umbrella? That is always the question.¡±


    Eventually, he decided to go without one. Sometimes it was nice to get a little wash from the rain; so long as it wasn¡¯t a downpour you probably wouldn''t get sick. Even if he did get sick, he could just force his new familiar to do all his homework! Ha! It was genius!


    Grabbing his wallet and other necessities, Ern double checked all of the ground floor windows to make sure they were closed, then went to the two suits of armor posted right next to the front door. Inside of their helmets were small seals, painted with blood, and neither seemed to have deteriorated too badly, so Ern decided they were good enough and headed out the front door.


    ***


    There were definitely better days than today.


    ¡°Get on the fucking ground!¡±


    The door to the convenience store was kicked in, swinging hard enough to smash against the counter next to it. The glass didn¡¯t shatter, but a large crack formed in it. A group of men started pouring into the store; all wearing different shades of black sweats and strange masks. A fish, a golf-ball, a gorilla, a toucan, and an anime character. It happened quickly.


    The cashier, a thin guy with dark skin, immediately tried to reach down below the counter top, but one of the men, a guy wearing a golf-ball mask, leapt over and crashed down on top of him. There was a crunching sound. While that happened, the remaining men acted.


    ¡°Get down!¡±


    ¡°We have guns!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me shoot!¡±


    It wasn¡¯t very late, but this store wasn¡¯t very popular. There was no gas station attached to it, so traffic mostly came from pedestrians. Right now, the only other people in the store were an old woman and a teenage girl. When the screaming started, the old woman fell over, gasping out in pain, and started fumbling with her spilled groceries. The thief wearing the fish mask charged over to her and kept her from moving, telling her to stay put. He was careful not to mess too much with her, keeping his gun to his side.


    Why was she noticing that?


    Caitlyn couldn¡¯t understand why she was paying so much attention to what the old woman was doing. Sure, it was good to be kind to your elders, but there were far more pressing matters at hand. The sound of glass cracking was what really shocked her, causing her to drop the can of iced coffee she was planning to purchase. It hit the ground hard and erupted liquid on the ground, dampening her shoes. Not able to think quickly enough, Caitlyn just stood still, helpless, as the other men went to their places.


    The man who ended up in front of her was wearing a gorilla mask. It covered most of his face and head, even going down to cover his neck, but in the small holes where she could see his eyes, Caitlyn could see his lower eyelids rise. He was smiling.


    At least someone was happy about this.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, little lady,¡± Gorilla Mask said. His voice was jovial and concealed a laugh. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna hurt anyone.¡±


    She didn¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°Trust me, trust me.¡±


    He took a step closer.


    Unable to keep herself from doing so, Caitlyn flinched back a bit. It was instinctive. The gun right up next to her face was horrifying enough, but there was more. The sound of his voice. The way he was looking at her. In an ideal scenario, she would¡¯ve pressed the barrel to her head and told him to pull the trigger. It wouldn¡¯t work, but it was better than cowering away like she was now. If she tried something stupid like that, would it work out well for the old lady?The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    No, probably not. Caitlyn was having difficulty thinking properly, and decided to just keep to herself as much as possible.


    There was more shouting in the background, but Gorilla Mask spoke over them. He wasn¡¯t particularly loud, but his voice was aimed directly at Caitlyn, and his body was big enough that it almost formed a wall before her. He had lowered the gun, just a bit, but was still standing directly in front of her.


    ¡°Hey, girly,¡± he started. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°...Mary.¡± Caitlyn lied. It was a natural reflex.


    ¡°Mary?¡± He repeated. Ugh. The way he said it, even though it wasn¡¯t her real name was still creepy. She glanced up to see his eyes searching her, averting her gaze before their eyes met. ¡°Sorry about this, by the way. A man¡¯s gotta eat.¡±


    What the fuck? Was he trying to justify this?


    Well, it should be obvious. He was a bad person, so there was no need to think about it.


    But she couldn¡¯t help herself.


    ¡°What about the person who runs the shop?¡± Caitlyn asked, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°If you steal from him, will he be able to feed his family?¡±


    It was a stupid thing to say, and Caitlyn regretted it immediately after saying so. She cringed at herself. Fuck. Why couldn¡¯t she have just kept quiet? This creep was literally pointing a gun at her head, and she was trying to talk back to him? Was she begging to be shot? Well, in some dark part of her brain, she thought that might not be too bad, but her sense of self preservation was too strong.


    Gorilla Mask frowned.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± he said. ¡°Survival of the fittest. This is just how life works.¡±


    Okay, now would be a perfect time to just shut up and not say anything.


    ¡°That¡¯s stupid,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°Why even make excuses about this? What are you trying to prove?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Gorilla Mask responded. He sounded agitated. ¡°And I¡¯m not doing any of that shit. Just shut up. I was trying to be nice.¡±


    ¡°Trying to be nice? You¡¯re fucking holding a gun to my head!¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡±


    His shout was loud enough to distract Golf-Ball Mask for a second, who was trying up the store¡¯s cashier. ¡°Gorilla! Shut the hell up over there, and don¡¯t talk to the hostages!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡±


    ¡°Heh,¡± Caitlyn laughed, but only so Gorilla could hear it. ¡°Wow, you¡¯re pretty pathetic aren¡¯t you?¡± Fuck, why was she saying this? She couldn¡¯t help herself. ¡°You¡¯re also pretty dumb. But I guess you¡¯d need to be to try something like this. Trying to rob a store like this? How much money do you think they have here? Like twenty dollars? Honestly, it¡¯s kinda pathetic. You¡¯re gonna spend such a long-¡±


    At that point, Gorilla Mask had had enough. He used the butt of his pistol to smash her across the forehead, snapping her glasses in half and knocking Caitlyn down to the ground.


    ***


    Five minutes left.


    Five minutes?


    Bleh, it felt like such a long time. Even after having lived for so long, five minutes feels like a really long time when you¡¯re just staring at your watch.


    Hmm.


    Okay, what¡¯s a good way to pass time? A five minute song! Now, to find one...that¡¯s the most difficult part. Because once you start looking, you can¡¯t stop, and you¡¯re more likely to just waste those five minutes, rather than find an actual song!


    Ha!


    Oh, wait, a new Kanye release? Hell yeah. This¡¯ll work.


    ***


    Flexing his ability to control the shade like a muscle, Ern summoned it in and out of his body and sent it to fly around the sky as he walked down the road. Strange how it seemed to mimic animals as it moved; Bezret slipped around like a snake swimming through water, and didn¡¯t seem to have much issue passing through solid material, but it seemed to still be able to propel itself against the physical to go faster. Even though it could fly, it was still bouncing around off the nearby fence.


    ¡°Hey, Bezret,¡± Ern said out loud. There wasn¡¯t anyone on the streets this late, but he didn¡¯t care if anyone heard him anyway. ¡°Aren¡¯t I supposed to be able to like, see things through you? I thought that was supposed to be a benefit of having a familiar.¡±


    ¡®Yes, normally.¡¯ The voice appeared in his head like a whisper. ¡®But the ritual was incomplete.¡¯


    ¡°Oh. Haha.¡±


    ¡®That isn¡¯t funny.¡¯


    ¡°It¡¯s a little funny,¡± Ern admitted. ¡°How far away from me can you go?¡±


    ¡®Not much.¡¯


    ¡°Cool.¡±


    Ern could sense frustration from the little shade, but that just made Ern feel happy. Originally, he would¡¯ve thought the summoned creature wouldn¡¯t have emotions, but learning that it did made Ern smile. It was basically a permanent target for taunting, and it couldn¡¯t escape from him like his friends. Ern giggled to himself.


    The rain had let up soon after he left his house, but the weather forecast showed that it¡¯d be picking up again later. That meant there wasn¡¯t much time to waste on the road. A bit disappointing, since Ern liked to walk around in the dark, but it was whatever. He took a sharp left down a back alley. This was the residential section of Seattle, and he was a few blocks from the main streets. The sounds of cars were still audible, but infrequent. Going the back way wasn¡¯t necessarily the fastest way to the convenience store he liked, but there were some perks to it.


    First off, he didn¡¯t have to deal with the bright lights of cars. Since his parents had passed away before he got a chance to learn how to drive, he hadn¡¯t earned a driver¡¯s license, and the mere sight of cars made him annoyed. He did technically own some, but they just sat in his garage collecting dust.


    The second reason he strayed from the main roads was for work. The Parci Family paid good money to keep the city clean. Small curses and spirits were more likely to appear and live in places like this, and there weren¡¯t many who would take the time to exorcise them. Deaths on main roads happened, but they were often dealt with quickly. Ambulances arrived, and the car crashes were usually done without malice.


    But in the dark alleys between houses, things were different.


    People killed animals. Parents abuse their children, or each other. And all sorts of other secret atrocities. None large enough to create great evil, but plenty for a minor curse to be born.


    While he could probably get away with ignoring it (and he did, to some extent), staying attentive would keep him in the good graces of the Parci Family. With his parent¡¯s gone, he knew they didn¡¯t have much reason to bankroll Ern, but they still did, so he made sure to at least do above the minimum amount of work expected.


    Luckily, tonight was free of anything to exorcise. Lately Ern had been noticing a decline in animus involved spirits in this neighborhood. It wasn¡¯t a bad thing, of course, but it was strange. The city¡¯s hierarchy was already set, so if any new exorcists moved in, he would know. Nobody would just come in and start banishing spirits without announcing themselves, unless of course they were a newbie. That was a possibility.


    And it was slightly worrisome.


    Before he could dwell on those thoughts further, he felt a weight grow in his stomach as the rain started to pick up. The return of Bezret.


    ¡®Master. I¡¯ve sensed something strange.¡¯


    ¡°What¡¯s up? There¡¯s plenty of strange things around here, where is it?¡±


    ¡®Continue forward.¡¯


    Forward? Ern looked straight ahead but didn¡¯t see anything unusual. The alley ended just in front of the convenience store Ern was planning on visiting. It was a tiny little place, slightly off the main road, with a clothing store on the opposite side of the street. The lights were on inside, and there weren¡¯t any cars parked outside. But there was something strange about it. It wasn¡¯t anything tangible, but Ern just felt like something was off.


    What was it?


    A few steps later, he realized.


    There wasn¡¯t anybody inside. Nobody shopping, nobody at the counter, and nobody waiting around. There weren¡¯t people on the streets this late at night, sure. But it just seemed surreal. The longer he stared, the more bizarre that feeling of emptiness became. Because he was a practiced magus, he was able to register what this sensation was.


    ¡°A barrier,¡± he said, reaching his hand forward. Why would this be here? Did it have something to do with the lack of spirits nearby? But that had been happening for roughly a month...and in that time, he¡¯d gone to the convenience store multiple times a week. If there was someone running a workshop here...well, it just wouldn¡¯t make sense. Way too out in the open. So it must have been something else. ¡°Ah crud. Now I¡¯m starting to get interested. Shady, got a second?¡±


    ¡®I have nothing but seconds.¡¯


    ¡°Can you go ahead of me and check out what¡¯s going on up ahead? Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be over in a moment.¡±


    ***


    Caitlyn was able to stay silent after the first hit, but she wasn¡¯t expecting the second. The blunt end of the pistol bashed against the top of her head, and she let out a cry. She put her hands out defensively, even though it wouldn¡¯t do much if the Gorilla Mask decided to continue. Her head was woozy, and she felt like she was zoning in and out of awareness, but still, a single thought drifted into her brain.


    I¡¯m so stupid. Fuck my life.


    ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡±


    The question came from Golf-Ball Mask, who was surveying the store. The cashier was bound at his feet, with a bloody nose.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Gorilla said. ¡°I just...don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°What did you do? You fucker.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Gorilla paused. He looked back down at Caitlyn, who was bleeding on the floor. ¡°Fuck me, man. She was starting to say shit, so I just hit her. Not too hard.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s bleeding.¡±


    ¡°You dumb fucker,¡± Golf-Ball said, shaking his head. ¡°What good are hostages if they¡¯re all fucking dead? Here, let¡¯s switch. Gorilla, you take care of the granny. Fish, you watch this guy, and I¡¯ll deal with the girl. And don¡¯t fucking beat up the old lady, okay?¡±


    ¡°It was just a light hit¡­¡±


    Two hits, Caitlyn wanted to say, but the constant ringing in her head dissuaded her from doing that.


    Golf-Ball mask came over to her, still keeping his head up to survey the store. He knelt down with the gun still in his hand and grabbed Caitlyn by the hair, yanking her up to face him. It was all too blurry from her lost glasses, and she might have teared up from the pain, so she couldn¡¯t make out his expression, but his breathing was quick. He wasn¡¯t as big as Gorilla Mask, but he seemed more confident in his movement. If Gorilla was a lumbering buffoon, Golf-Ball was a practiced athlete. It almost seemed to match with their masks.


    ¡°You look fine,¡± he eventually said, letting go of her. ¡°But you don¡¯t get to speak anymore. Shut the fuck up.¡± After that, he turned back to the store counter, behind which was a door they had pried open. The man with the anime mask had gone through. ¡°What¡¯s the status?¡±


    The reply was curt. ¡°Working.¡±


    ¡°Hurry up then,¡± Golf-Ball said. He pulled his sweater down to take a look at his sports watch. ¡°You said it¡¯d take five minutes at most once we got in, and we¡¯re at seven now.¡±


    ¡°Talking to me isn¡¯t helping me focus.¡±


    ¡°Not talking wasn¡¯t helping much either, apparently.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you bro! I wasn¡¯t expecting a safe this nice in a shitty little store. And with you dumb fucks shouting out there, I¡¯m having some difficulty hearing. So just shut the fuck up and let me work!¡±


    Golf-Ball clicked his tongue but said nothing more. He glanced down at Caitlyn, who had basically just stopped moving entirely. Golf-Ball noticed her snapped glasses on the ground, then her unfocused eyes. That was good, at least. It would make it harder for her to identify any of them. Still, he wasn¡¯t the type who liked hurting women, and especially children, so seeing her bleed from the forehead bothered him. If he could, he would¡¯ve tried to stop the bleeding, but right now, it was more important to stay tough and intimidating for his men. Getting out of here quickly would be better for the girl than him staying, anyway.


    The sound of a thump and a wheeze shocked Golf-Ball from his thoughts. He turned to see Fish Mask standing over the cashier, holding a knife in one hand and his foot mid kick in the downed man¡¯s ribs.


    Holy shit, these guys were fucking terrible. Amateurs!


    ¡°Now what the fuck are you doing?¡±


    ¡°The bastard had a knife hidden on him,¡± Fish said, throwing another kick. The poor cashier doubled over and puked. ¡°He was trying to fucking cut his hands free. Piece of shit. How about you have one of these!¡±


    ¡°Stop kicking him!¡±


    Fish Mask turned to Golf-Ball and snarled, only his pupils visible underneath the mask. But those were the types of eyes Golf-Ball was the most wary of: the feral eyes of someone who couldn¡¯t stop themselves when they got angry. They just stood silent for a second before the cashier cleared his throat and spat a bloody loogie onto Fish¡¯s shoe.


    This prompted a vicious stomping from Fish, which continued until Golf-Ball came up from behind him and pulled the man off. ¡°What the fuck! Stop that, you dumbass! Do I serious need to look after two of you fucking idiots?¡±


    ¡°Who are you calling an idiot?¡± Gorilla asked, not paying any attention to the old woman he was guarding. ¡°Better not be me.¡±


    ¡°He had a knife bro,¡± Fish said, voice tinged with indignance. There was no doubt that he couldn¡¯t imagine himself doing wrong. ¡°He was gonna cut himself out, then go call the cops or something. Or even worse, he¡¯d try to fuckin¡¯ stab one of us. You want that to happen? So he gets what he deserves.¡±


    ¡°But he didn¡¯t, did he?¡± Golf-Ball said. ¡°So why kick him? What the fuck was that stomping bullshit? Calm the fuck down.¡± Out of all the men hired for this, Golf-Ball was the most professional, but that wasn¡¯t saying much. He¡¯d robbed a few stores and burglarized a home. Spent some time in juvie as a kid. The rest of these guys...well, he didn¡¯t know them. This was a random crew of guys all pulled together, and it was showing. ¡°All you¡¯re gonna do is hurt him. And if he doesn¡¯t have a knife any more, he can¡¯t do anything else. Beating him while he¡¯s down doesn¡¯t do anything, but what if you twisted your ankle or some shit?¡±


    ¡°Twisted my fuckin¡¯ ankle? Bro, are you some kinda pussy?¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up. This doesn¡¯t do us any good.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true, fucker,¡± Fish said. He scoffed. ¡°It does at least one good thing for us.¡±


    ¡°What? Get your sadistic rocks off?¡±


    ¡°It scares the other hostages.¡±


    ¡°As if they aren¡¯t fucking scared already! There¡¯s an old ass lady and a little girl! If you need to go this far to scare people like that, then you¡¯ve got no future in this business you fuckhead.¡±


    There was a visible size difference between the two thugs. Golf-Ball was a few inches taller than Fish, and far more built. Even with their baggy clothes on, you could tell who the stronger one was. But still, with anger overcoming him, nothing could stop fish as he shoved Golf-Ball back a few steps.


    ¡°Oh, wow,¡± Golf-Ball started, throwing up his hands in mock horror. He made his voice quiver. ¡°I¡¯m so scared. What, you gonna stab me? You wanna fucking throw down, right fucking here, in the middle of a fucking job? Grow the fuck up and do what I tell you to do. Be happy you get paid, retard.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not joking,¡± Fish said. ¡°Don¡¯t mess with me, or you¡¯ll get it.¡±


    The only other person in this group with a reputation was Fish. And it wasn¡¯t a good one. He was a psycho, always getting into fights, even if it was obvious he would lose. Fish was the type who would throw himself against a wall and crash. But to him, that wasn¡¯t the end of the fight. No, the end of a fight was when the person who bothered him was spitting up blood.


    At least, that¡¯s what Golf-Ball thought. The thought of being stabbed in the back was enough for him to shy away from the hardened criminal, letting the topic drop. It wasn¡¯t worth the trouble. He went back to stand above the girl, who seemed to be staring aimlessly at the puddle of coffee next to her.


    Strange, Golf-Ball thought. What the hell is that in the reflection?


    ¡°Alright.¡± A voice from the back room called. ¡°I¡¯m done.¡±


    Click.


    That sound echoed through the store as everything fell quiet.


    Many things happened simultaneously in that moment.


    The first was that Fish snapped, dropping the knife and reaching out to grab Golf-Ball by the shirt. He pulled him close and was prepared to scream out threats.


    But Golf-Ball was too distracted by movement at the storefront: Toucan, who was just standing aimlessly, shifted a bit, and the door swung open.


    Toucan was the newest to the world of crime and hadn¡¯t been paying much attention to what was going outside, felt something fly in front of his face. It was just a momentary thing, but everything went dark. Because of that, he didn¡¯t notice a certain person sneak by him and push the door to the store open.


    The welcome bells jingled.


    Gorilla had been completely unfocused on anything except for Caitlyn. She wasn¡¯t the cutest girl he¡¯d ever seen, but there was something about her fugly nature that he felt himself deeply attracted to. She was probably ten years younger than him, but he couldn¡¯t keep his eyes off her slumped form.


    Because of that, he hadn¡¯t noticed the old woman just to his right pull out a large magnum revolver from her purse and aim it at his head.


    Oblivious to everything after falling face first into her spilled coffee, Caitlyn had entered a trance. Everything was blurry, so she had just started letting her mind and eyes wander. Sometimes she did that: took off her glasses and tried to make shapes of the distorted world of those with poor vision. It got pretty painful pretty quickly, so she didn¡¯t do it often, but right now, the pain of her head had started dulling, so it wasn¡¯t as bad. Eventually, her eyes focused on something.


    A small snake, pitch black, coiled up in front of her. It didn¡¯t look real. More like...it was the shadow of a snake being cast on the ground, except it was standing up inches from her face. It also didn¡¯t seem blurry at all. Rather, the snake was the only thing that kept its shape. Caitlyn wanted to reach out and touch it, but as it hadn¡¯t moved, she just kept still herself.


    Moments before the door opened, it vanished.


    ***


    Ern pushed the door open, ringing the greeting bells, and smiled wide. While he couldn¡¯t hear or see anything, nothing stopped Bezret from just explaining the situation inside.


    But he pretended like he had no idea what was going on, frowned at the strange sight, and scratched his head with one finger.


    ¡°Am I, uh, interrupting something?¡±

 Chapter 2

    Barbara Greenwood was a mother of four and grandmother of ten. She wasn¡¯t religious, but liked going to church with her friends when she was younger. Her specialty dish for holiday parties was her famous mystery casserole, a combination of vegetables and cream with secret treats hidden at the bottom so her grandchildren would squeal with delight upon finishing. Since her vision started going bad, she stopped reading, but was enjoying a new book on tape by an author her friend recommended.


    She had been married to Bruce for fifty-two years before he passed away from cancer two years ago, but it wasn¡¯t that hard a blow. They¡¯d had a good run and it was expected. Occasionally she had flashes of sadness, but with so many good memories, she could just blur out any sadness with feelings of love and fulfillment. Because Bruce served in the army for dozens of years, he knew quite a bit about warfare and guns, and taught everything he knew to his beloved wife as they aged. That was her secret pride; Barbara considered herself one of the safest grandmas in all of America.


    Of course, until tonight, she¡¯d never even needed to draw her gun. It was just a heavy paperweight for the most part, but one that she always kept with her. A reminder of Bruce. The men hadn¡¯t thought to take her purse away, which was a miracle, and as she drew the weapon out from it, Barbara realized just how heavy the thing was.


    As though this tool of death was holding her entire body down, making it impossible for her to shoot.


    Nobody was paying attention to her as she tried to lift it, and regret began to cross her mind. These boys were someone¡¯s children. Why were they out here doing this? There must have been a reason. They were squabbling with each other, could they still do good? Surely she shouldn¡¯t do this. They could be reformed.


    Barbara glimpsed at the young woman who Gorilla had struck down. The frail girl couldn¡¯t have been any more than fifteen, and was lying in what looked like a pool of her own blood.


    She was someone¡¯s daughter.


    What would Bruce do?


    He had been a warrior, a prince, and a father, who would always go out of his way to do everything possible to protect those important to him. But not just those important; Bruce wanted to protect everyone who needed it. No matter the odds, he would try to make sure those who couldn¡¯t help themselves were helped. Somewhere in herself, Barbara found the spark of courage that let her lift the weapon higher, filling her body with strength.


    Barbara leveled the gun with the back of Gorilla¡¯s head, aiming with what Bruce had taught her. It almost felt like he was right there next to her, reminding her to brace for the kick. To wait until you were as close as possible. Because any man, when faced with a gun, will lose all sense of reason. If he doesn¡¯t run or drop to his knees in fear, he will charge you. And there is nothing more terrifying than a savage who realized they could¡¯ve just died.


    Was this really the best time for Barbara to pull the trigger?


    She couldn¡¯t be sure. There was no perfect answer. But the scene slowly replayed in her head of Gorilla smacking that girl. Of Fish stomping the poor cashier. This was certainly the right thing to do, but she would need to apologize afterward. If she didn¡¯t, it would always come back to haunt her, and she didn¡¯t want to live the remainder of her life with that weight.


    She pulled the trigger.


    ***


    --About one minute before the gun went off--


    ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± Fish said, letting go of Golf-Ball and turning to the new intruder. ¡°Who...the fuck..?¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯d you let this guy in?¡± Golf-Ball asked, his voice overpowering fish. The question was asked at Toucan, who turned and hopped in place.


    Before Toucan could answer, Ern started speaking.


    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t worry about me boys,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m just coming in to buy some milk and maybe pick up a microwave dinner. Though the corndogs rotating over there do look pretty tasty. Oh, but of course, after seeing all this mayhem, perhaps you could give me a discount? Blood on the ground is...pretty unsanitary, to say the least, and I don¡¯t want to be a nag, but if I need to call corporate, I will.¡±


    ¡°Grab him,¡± Golf-Ball said, aiming his gun at Ern. ¡°Don¡¯t move, kid. Just sit down in the corner and relax. We¡¯re out of here in a second. Forget you saw-¡±


    An explosion rang out.


    The bullet whizzed out from the gun and passed inches from Gorilla¡¯s head, shattering a bottle of liquor right by his face. It continued on until it tore a hole through a fin atop Fish¡¯s mask, the momentum causing him to stagger.


    Everyone stopped as the store became completely quiet. The only sound were the infrequent drops of rain outside. All eyes had moved to the old woman, who was still holding the revolver out, but had been knocked backwards against a wall. She had an angry look on her face, and her gun was swaying.


    ¡°You better stop what you¡¯re doing,¡± Barbara said, trembling. ¡°Or next time, I won¡¯t miss.¡±


    Any normal, rational person, would have glazed over her threat. With a quick examination, it was pretty easy to tell that shot had taken a great deal of her strength away. The gun was too big for her, and she was sweating. Her finger was on the trigger, but the hammer wasn¡¯t pulled back, so it¡¯d be incredibly difficult for her to take another shot.


    However.


    There was darkness in her eyes.


    While the thugs had imagined Fish being a killer and having psycho eyes, what they saw beyond Barbara¡¯s green spectacles was something too cruel to understand. A gaze devoid of empathy; picturing them as nothing but targets. The eyes not of someone who kills for enjoyment, but the look of someone who kills because they have no other choice. Someone who wouldn¡¯t hesitate to pull the trigger again, and couldn¡¯t be convinced otherwise. The fear of death had been forcefully driven into them. Even Ern, who lived on the border between life and death, couldn¡¯t help but feel his skin prick at the sight. With a single shot, Barbara had become the most powerful person in the room.


    But for how long would that last?


    Golf-Ball was the first person to act after that. He slowly lifted his hands above his head and took a step back, making sure to keep his eyes on the barrel of the gun at all times. His own gun was not forgotten, but he wasn¡¯t planning on using it. At least not first, anyway. The first to draw would be the first one to get shot, and he wasn¡¯t going to die tonight.


    ¡°Relax, grandma,¡± Golf-Ball said. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna hurt anyone anymore. We got what we came for, now we¡¯re just gonna leave. That¡¯s okay, right?¡± Anime-Mask hadn¡¯t exited the back room yet, even though he called out saying the safe was unlocked. How long was this gonna take? How much time had passed since then? It felt like an eternity, but it couldn¡¯t have been more than two minutes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you,¡± Barbara said. There was no reason not to believe him, in fact, if she was thinking correctly, everything pointed to him telling the truth. She probably understood this deep down, but at that moment, her senses were flared to the max from firing the gun. Reason was completely thrown out the window.


    She was like a cornered animal, except she was the one cornering the predator.


    ¡°Seriously, grandma?¡± Golf-Ball continued. He was the only person who had moved, though out of the corner of his eye he could see the girl starting to sit up. ¡°We¡¯re really not trying to do anything stupid here. My...friends may have made mistakes, but we¡¯re all really sorry for that. Let¡¯s just all pretend this never happened...please?¡±


    ¡°Hey, are you sorry about what you did to me?¡± Ern interjected. ¡°I still plan on calling corporate if you don¡¯t get me my discount.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, kid,¡± Golf-Ball said. Then he froze as Ern walked right by him without a care in the world. ¡°Wait, stop moving kid. Just sit down and freeze. I don¡¯t want anyone to get hurt.¡±


    ¡°Ha. If anyone is doing the hurting here, it¡¯s the old lady with the big gun.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s rude to call ladies old, sonny,¡± Barbara said. ¡°And you, with the golf mask, stop calling me grandma. You¡¯re not one of my grandkids.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± both of them said simultaneously.


    During the entire back and forth, Fish and Toucan had been completely still. Only Gorilla had dropped down to the ground, clutching his head. The gunshot had temporarily robbed him of his hearing, and the blur by his head made him dizzy. He had dropped his pistol and fallen atop it without realizing, and couldn¡¯t help but shiver. Turmoil consumed him. There was only one thing he could do as he continued to tremble, faced with someone so fearsome:


    Beg.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t kill me, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ***


    Only two people in the store didn¡¯t notice the gunshot go off.


    Caitlyn was currently in a daze, and though her ears rang, she was too focused on the enigmatic figure that seemed to gaze over the store. The dark snake was positioned against the back wall, stretched fully and flat. There was something bright in the center of the specter¡¯s head, and Caitlyn was too curious about what it was.


    The other person who didn¡¯t notice the shot was the robber in the back room. It was pure coincidence that he didn¡¯t hear the shot: at the very moment it happened, he had unlocked the safe, and was paying attention only to the clicking of the safe as it swung open. He shoved the headphones he was using for cracking the safe into his front pocket and started shoving the cash from the safe into his small backpack. Still annoyed at all the barking from his comrades outside, the safe cracker, who was wearing an anime mask, believed they were still operating under the original plan they had devised. The thought that something so incredulous had happened wasn¡¯t even in his consideration as he continued to shovel things into his bag. It was mostly money, but there was also a gun and some books. Supposedly, they were accounts for drug running, but he didn¡¯t care. It was their job to rob the safe, and that¡¯s what he was going to do. He picked up the heavy leather book and shoved it into his bag before getting up to leave.


    At least pretend to be professional, he thought as he followed the hall to the front of the store, listening to the shouts coming from the front. He wasn¡¯t listening to what was said, so when he saw the old woman with the gun pointing it at his partners, Anime was stunned.


    ¡°Wait, what the hell is going on?¡± Anime asked, now noticing the new hostage that had shown up.


    ¡°Put the gun down, young man,¡± Barbara said, waving the revolver back and forth. It was starting to strain her wrist. ¡°You should just sit tight until the police come. I¡¯m not afraid to shoot.¡±


    ¡°Shoot? Old lady, that gun looks way too big for you. I bet if you pulled the trigger your hand would fall off.¡±


    As he spoke, Anime started to step forward, but Golf-Ball swung a hand out to stop him. They met eyes.


    ¡°She¡¯s not joking.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re scared of some old lady?¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± Fish said quietly. He pointed to the hole in the fin on his mask. ¡°You see this? Fucking old bat nearly killed me. Dumb bitch¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t actually mind getting shot,¡± Ern said, nodding to the robbers. He sat down next to the teen girl, making sure to stay away from the puddle of coffee and blood. ¡°But if you do, could you aim for like, anything but my face? I¡¯d like an open casket funeral, if possible. There are a lot of cute girls that would probably kiss me on the lips, and I¡¯d rather not disappoint them. I¡¯m sure you understand.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    ¡°Be quiet, sonny,¡± Barbara said. She couldn¡¯t see Ern, but found herself annoyed at the jovial tone. ¡°Call the police and make sure they¡¯re coming.¡±


    ¡°Who,¡± Ern started. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Anyone.¡±


    ¡°Ah, sorry. I don¡¯t really like talking on the phone.¡±


    Golf-Ball looked at Ern in confusion, but couldn¡¯t gleam anything off the boy¡¯s face but a smirk. This was starting to get worrisome. They were already behind schedule, and if they got caught by the cops right now¡­


    Well, he didn¡¯t want to think about it.


    Was it best to just try and make a break for it? He could tell the old woman was shaking, but she still had her finger on the trigger. Now that his panic was starting to lessen, more options were becoming available. If Gorilla could get up and away from the old woman, they¡¯d all be able to just sprint out to their getaway car as fast as possible. According to the original plan, the cops weren¡¯t supposed to be notified, but with the gunshot, there was a possibility someone outside could have called them. Leaving someone behind wasn¡¯t an option, since they all knew who each other were underneath the masks.


    His eye twitched as the revolver barrel moved to him, and he slowly set his gun and bag on the floor.


    ***


    In a completely unrelated part of town, a tall man with raven black hair slowly left his car. Even though it was late at night, he was wearing sunglasses, and adjusted them. He checked his phone for messages.


    The job should have been complete by now, but he hadn¡¯t heard anything. That bothered him.


    Should he make a call?


    No, it was better to stay as far away from this as possible. How frustrating was it to play this role? Unable to take things into his own hands and just sitting on his tower, moving pieces across the board. After so long doing it, he was starving for some action. Starving to tear the throats of his enemies out and devouring them. What he wouldn¡¯t give to just throw it all into chaos.


    Alfonse gazed up at the moon. It was barely visible behind the clouds, but a thin light slipped through.


    ¡°Hey, you good? I¡¯m hungry, so let¡¯s get this dinner over with.¡±


    It was one of his partners. Or his enemy. It was difficult to separate the two from each other, these days. Alfonse sighed and shook his head.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± he said. ¡°Just relax. Nothing can start without the three of us.¡±


    He slipped his phone back into his pocket and followed the group into the restaurant.


    ***


    Caitlyn¡¯s focus was broken on the shadowy figure as it moved, springing from its location to a new person who¡¯d entered the store. She couldn¡¯t place his features at all, but he looked shorter and thinner than any of the robbers. More importantly, though, was the dark shadow curling around his body and making its way into his shirt. How she could make out these details, she wasn¡¯t sure, but it almost seemed like it very gently pushed his shirt around as it moved.


    It was a hallucination, she knew. But it was hard not to focus on it. Was this what it felt like to hallucinate?


    The new visitor sat down next to her, and in between him shouting with the robbers in a condescending tone, pulled a small carton of milk from the refrigerated shelf behind him.


    ¡°Ah, sorry,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t really like talking on the phone.¡± Then he reached over Caitlyn to grab something, and set whatever it was down before her.


    Her glasses.


    ¡°You alright?¡± He whispered.


    Caitlyn didn¡¯t answer and slowly moved to put her glasses on. The pain in her head was subsiding, in fact, now that she thought about it, all the hurt was completely gone. She still had blood and coffee staining her face and clothes, but it didn¡¯t feel like more was spilling out, and with her glasses on, the ache from her eyes had vanished. For a moment she felt anticipation that she might be able to better see the shadowy snake, but there weren¡¯t any signs of it. She must really have been hallucinating. Was it because of the blow to the head? Ah...that was scary¡­


    Then she realized she knew who the teen next to her was.


    Because Caitlyn only moved to Seattle a few months ago, and didn¡¯t know anyone in the city, she didn¡¯t have many friends at school. That was fine by her; sitting around in the library and studying or reading was more fun than dealing with any trouble. At first, it was difficult being an outsider, because people liked to ask questions, but very quickly they stopped. Caitlyn was a boring person by nature, and people easily overlooked her.


    This person was the exact opposite.


    A natural socialite, Ern was the kind of person who could easily get along with anyone he wanted, forcing himself into conversations without a care in the world. He was the guy who knew everyone and was liked well enough, and who couldn¡¯t be ignored when he tried talking to you. Not the most athletic, or the smartest, Ern was simply a busybody comedian who made himself the center of any group he entered.


    He didn¡¯t really match those actions with his appearance, though. Ern was scrawny and wimpy-looking, with large spectacles and pale white skin. His hair was raven black and thick, cut almost like a bowl that wrapped around his head. His clothes were fashionable enough, but because of his tiny size, everything made him look like a child. Ern was a year older than Caitlyn, or at least in a grade higher, but looked like he was two years younger. Perhaps it was his nonthreatening appearance that made people like him? Regardless, seeing him made Caitlyn frown. The expression on his face was one of absolute confidence, like nothing could ever go wrong.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Ern said, back to the entire store. He stood slowly, still holding his milk. ¡°Before we start doing anything we regret, and that includes all of us, why don¡¯t we take a second to think about this. Because this might all be a bit above our level.¡±


    ¡°Shut up kid,¡± Anime said, waving his gun at Ern. Still aware of Barbara¡¯s revolver, the man took a step towards Ern, putting a shelf between himself and the gun. ¡°Or I¡¯ll shut you up myself.¡±


    ¡°You got what we needed, right?¡± Golf-Ball asked. Anime nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s just get out of here. I don¡¯t want any more trouble.¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re going to wait here for the cops to show up,¡± Barbara said. She was nearing her limit, and the adrenaline she didn¡¯t know she had was draining fast. ¡°Young man with the glasses, can you see if the girl is alright? And please, call the police. Make sure they¡¯re coming.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s fine,¡± Ern said, glancing at Caitlyn. He winked. ¡°And like I said, I don¡¯t want to call the cops.¡±


    ¡°You better not,¡± Fish said.


    ¡°If he tries,¡± Anime said. ¡°¡±I¡¯ll blow his fucking brains out. Now get back on the fucking floor kid.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡± Ern said, sitting back down. ¡°I just thought I could get some food, don¡¯t worry about me.¡± Then to Caitlyn, he silently continued: ¡°Thought I could get it for free.¡±


    A moment of silence passed over everyone as a police siren blared out in the distance. But it was getting quieter rather than louder.


    The sound made Barbara relax for a moment, which was when Gorilla took the time to strike.


    He lunged out for the gun, pushing it backwards and away from himself, snapping Barbara¡¯s finger back as she screeched. The gun went off and shattered a glass case beside them. His force pushed her backwards, shoving the old woman deep into the packages of food behind her and he wrestled the gun down to the ground.


    She gasped out in breathless pain as he hit her stomach.


    But that wasn¡¯t the end of it. Gorilla was a large man, and he had a violent temper. What made it worse was that not only had he been humiliated twice tonight, but they were both by women. His rage would not be easily quelled. Gorilla grabbed the thinning white hair and pulled her forward, then slammed her head face first onto the ground. The first time it impacted her glasses shattered and her nose snapped. The second time her face left a mark of blood on the ground. The third and forth just made the splatter bigger. She was no longer struggling against him, nor making any noise, but that didn¡¯t stop him from standing up and tossing the old woman into a stand full of bottles, which all crashed down on top of her. He grabbed her, flipped her over, and sat on her chest, pushing his gun into her bloody mouth.


    ¡°You are dead fucking meat,¡± Gorilla said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna fucking kill you! I¡¯m gonna fucking kill all of you!¡±


    ¡°Relax motherfucker,¡± Golf-Ball said, feeling the pressure rise more and more. He was about to lose it himself. ¡°Everyone, let¡¯s just relax and get out of here. Alright? Let¡¯s fucking go!¡±


    Nobody responded to him, other than Fish, who just gave a half-hearted grunt. The gang was too busy staring at Gorilla continuously screaming gibberish at the broken old woman. Fuck. It was all falling apart. Everything was going down the shitter.


    Well, if that was it, that was it.


    No reason not to just leave right now.


    Golf-Ball turned to the store entrance and got ready to leave, expecting to see Toucan standing there silently. Instead, it was pure darkness.


    ***


    --A few minutes earlier--


    ¡°Oh fudge, I¡¯m late¡­¡±


    Markus pulled out the earbuds and shoved them in his pocket. Truthfully, he wasn¡¯t a big fan of recent Kanye, but the old stuff still slapped. When he saw the new release, he couldn''t help but hope it was reminiscent of the original stuff. The new song was decent. Nothing special. But it helped waste some time.


    Too much time, actually.


    He wasn¡¯t exactly sure what the plan was, or exactly what he was doing. But his job was more or less pretty straightforward. Walk into a building, kill everyone inside, and leave. It was highly likely the robbers inside were armed and dangerous, but not to someone like him. Make it a slaughter and have fun with it. Too easy to get his blood boiling, but it was at least some work. Recently, things had been too peaceful in the city for him. On his way over to the convenience store, Markus pulled a small vial from another pocket (he wore cargo pants with many pockets) and popped the top off. Inside was cool blood, which he sucked down quickly.


    That helped him focus.


    Put him in the murderous state of mind.


    He felt it sink down into his body, mixing in with his own black blood. That brief euphoric feeling energized him and Markus shivered. He cracked his knuckles.


    ¡°Yo, yo,¡± he chanted, keeping to the alley shadows as he progressed towards the location marked on his phone gps. ¡°Killin¡¯ on the street, like ya holla pass a dolla...hmm. Like a baller? Shock collar? Boom, pop. Straight thug in the streets, psycho murderer in the sheets? Ah, somethin¡¯ like that. Dang. Run it back.¡± This was just mumbling. His rap game was weak.


    He could smell the blood from a mile away. There was a lot of it, and it was fresh. Markus smiled and sniffed it all in greedily, savoring the flavor. Oh, perhaps this was an aged person? Seems like...a woman? An old woman, bleeding profusely? That wasn¡¯t a usual flavor, and Markus felt himself getting excited. There wasn¡¯t anything in the job description given by the Boss that said he couldn¡¯t just kill everyone there. Actually, that was probably intended. Leave no witnesses, that sort of thing. Which meant he was about to get a big serving of fresh blood...and the unique taste of an old woman as well.


    Oh?


    There was something else mixed in there as well¡­


    Something gross.


    Markus blinked. He was wearing sunglasses, even though it was dark outside, because it was the best way to conceal his bizarre eyes. Like all vampires, his sclera were black and his irises red, with white pupils. That was frightening enough for a normal person, but add to that his black skin and heavy dreads and Markus knew the cops would be called on him in this neighborhood. Still, the rancid smell of blood gave him pause.


    What was that? What was going on?


    Now, more than bloodlust propelled him forward. There was also curiosity tickling his mind.


    In only a few seconds, the convenience store was within his vision. It was a lonely business; all the buildings surrounding it were dark. There seemed to be some kind of commotion going on inside, but there was too much talking for Markus to differentiate the voices and words. He could make out a few different people inside, but definitely not all of them. He couldn¡¯t see the old woman whose blood he smelled.


    There was one man standing outside: a rotund gentleman with a bird mask on.


    Heh. How peculiar?


    Well, you need to start somewhere.


    Surrounding the building, about ten or fifteen feet out in a dome, was a barely visible wall of air. A barrier. Of course, a barrier like this would be too easy for Markus to bypass. This was more of something to keep civilians out of the way. Well, and to keep all the normies inside as well.


    Slipping through it was like pushing through a silk curtain.


    He kept his threatening aura hidden. While it did have uses, including throwing normal humans into uncontrollable panics, the strength could bleed through the barrier and affect the outside world. As funny as it would be to cause a terror incident in this small neighborhood, striking down individuals was even better.


    Markus slowly walked up to the man with the toucan mask, studying him. He could read the man¡¯s vitals just from smell. Twenty-six years old, overweight, and unhealthy. Not a lot of muscle, but probably some decent strength just from his sheer mass. Like an extra large meal at your local fast food joint. Toucan would be a good snack for a boost of energy. Might as well make the most of it.


    ¡°Yo, s¡¯up bruh?¡± Markus asked, stepping out of the shadows, pointing his pinky at the man. ¡°What¡¯s with the mask?¡±


    Toucan never had a chance to respond.


    Faster than the human eye could observe, a small black strand of blood shot from Markus¡¯s pinky fingernail and through Toucan¡¯s neck. It speared the man¡¯s neck and immediately expanded into hundreds of microscopic threads, digging into the robber¡¯s jugular veins. Once entered, they expanded like thorny vines, slicing into the flesh and sticking. Siphoning blood out and back to Markus, who smiled.


    With that blood came short term memories. Standing outside watching the store. The splash of black in front of his face. The sound of a gunshot. And lastly, Markus.


    ¡°Any last requests?¡± Markus asked, walking forward as the bloody thread reaching from his finger to Toucan¡¯s neck continued to dig deeper, making its way into the man¡¯s chest. ¡°A preferred way to die?¡±


    Toucan couldn¡¯t move. He was frozen, and the best he could do was twitch. Tears poured from his eyes as he tried to beg for his life, but it didn¡¯t matter. His body was being drained of blood, and being destroyed in the process. Every muscle was revolting against him, trying to strain, but unable to react. Threads were slicing his body apart from the inside, and he felt like everything was melting inside his bag of flesh.


    ¡°Oh! I think I understand! You wanted to die a horrible and painful death, didn¡¯t you!¡±


    It wasn¡¯t what Toucan wanted, but it was what he got.

 Chapter 3

    ¡°What the hell?¡±


    Toucan was the newest to the criminal underworld, which was why they gave him the easiest job. One where he didn¡¯t need to be violent, or act tough. All he needed to do was stand at the entrance of the store and keep guard. Sure, he¡¯d failed and let some scrawny kid in, but that shouldn¡¯t mean much.


    Or really, the question was more so:


    ¡°Where the hell did he go?¡± Golf-ball asked quietly, focused entirely on the empty black space by the store¡¯s entrance. It seemed like just a second ago, Toucan was standing there just a few seconds ago, but now he was gone. ¡°Did he run away?¡±


    Nobody noticed Golf-ball asking these questions, and nobody noticed the disappearance of the youngest member of the robber group. Rather, the entire focus was on Gorilla, the large man, screaming and slamming his fists down over and over on the old woman they were holding hostage. It was an unrelenting torrent of blows, hammering her bones and organs into paste. He was letting out guttural screams, like some sort of demonic beast, and his companions couldn¡¯t do anything but watch. Even Ern, who was used to violence and debauchery, felt a chill run down his spine at the display. For the first time since entering the store, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps this wasn¡¯t the best idea.


    ¡°Relax you fucker,¡± Anime said, kicking over a stand of magazines. When Gorilla didn¡¯t respond, Anime sucked in a deep breath and kicked the man in the back. ¡°Calm down, that¡¯s enough!¡±


    ¡°Enough!?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s fucking dead dude.¡±


    That gave Gorilla a moment of pause from his assault. He turned to look at Anime for a second, then returned to gaze at Barbara¡¯s limp body. Mangled in ways that made it almost indistinguishable. Returning to sanity had a sobering effect on Gorilla, who held still for a minute, before dropping the old woman and pushing away from her. His hands were shaking.


    While he did that, Anime turned to the rest of his group.


    ¡°What the hell are you idiots doing out here? How the fuck did this end up turning into such a huge mess in only five fucking minutes?¡±


    ¡°It was that fucker,¡± Fish said, pointing at Gorilla. ¡°And the piece of shit cashier. He tried to hide a knife on him, then was trying to cut himself out. I taught him a lesson, but that god damn monkey fuck over there was just beating people for no reason. But I mean, getting rid of that old lady was good, right?¡±


    ¡°Sure, totally reasonable,¡± Anime said, not a hint of emotion in his voice. He went to pick up his gun and the bag full of valuables while continuing to address the group. ¡°Whatever. We¡¯re done here. So let¡¯s get the fuck outta dodge before anyone notices. What are you spacing out for?¡±


    Anime asked the last question to Golf-ball, who was still pondering the disappearance of Toucan. There was something strange about the scene that he just couldn¡¯t place. What was it? The young thug couldn¡¯t have gotten far, since it was just a few seconds that Golf-ball looked away from him. So what happened? Did he sprint away when Gorilla started the barrage? It was possible that the sheer violence of the act caused Toucan to lose his marbles, but it still seemed strange. From where Toucan was standing, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to see the struggle easily...Golf-ball was so lost in these thoughts that he didn¡¯t even hear what his comrades were saying. It was a shock to him when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he jumped.


    ¡°Focus up,¡± Anime said. He sniffed. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here before the cops show up.¡±


    It took a little bit for Golf-ball to remember what was going on, but he quickly nodded in agreement. Fish went to grab Gorilla and yanked him up, but the large man just crumpled back down to his knees. His eyes were glued to the beaten and bloody body before him.


    Nobody was paying attention to the store door when it opened, the welcome bells ringing for the second time.


    The new intruder removed his sunglasses.


    Everything about him screamed predator. Markus was not exceptionally tall, but he was well built. His teeth were sharp, and he smiled wide to show them off. His eyes, black sclera, with red irises and white pupils were alien to the men, and the nonchalance of his entrance was different from the boy¡¯s from before. He was wearing baggy clothes and hunched over, but his arms were spread wide, as though about to embrace an old friend.


    Oh, and he was entirely covered in wet blood.


    That helped make him more intimidating.


    ¡°Hola amigos,¡± Markus said, the door slowly swinging shut behind him. ¡°You can call me Mozart, and imma be your shepherd to the afterlife tonight. If you have any questions or concerns about your life and death or whatever, you can address them to Saint Petey up at those pearly gates, or whatever place you believe people go floating to when they kick the can. I¡¯m on a bit of a time crunch here, but I can¡¯t help my better nature, so if there are any requests for how you want me to kill you or display your body after death, lemme know. I like obliging people whenever I can, since I¡¯m a crowd-pleaser, so this is my way of giving back, ya dig?¡±


    The entrance of Markus was met with mixed emotions from the group of people inside the convenience store. Anime was finally at the end of his patience, while Fish was close to losing it himself. Gorilla didn¡¯t understand what was going on, but Golf-ball was horrified as he came to the conclusion that the blood coating Markus belonged to Toucan. The old woman was unconscious, and the cashier was zoning in and out of lucidity. Caitlyn was ignoring Markus entirely and paying attention to the shadowy glow that now surrounded Ern, while the boy in question was smiling like he just won the lottery.


    ¡°Anything?¡± Markus asked. ¡°Anything at all?¡±


    Ern was about to speak up when Anime interrupted him, raising his pistol. He pulled the trigger while speaking.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of this.¡±


    Things did not go as planned for him.


    ***


    There are creatures that exist beyond the scope of humanity.


    Beasts that live in incredible ways, that cling to the shadows and go bump in the night.


    Terrifying beings that ignored natural laws, choosing instead to exist in their own supernatural ways. That cannot be tethered down to human understanding, or possibly any kind of understanding at all.


    These beings, as Ern had learned about them from his late parents, were simply called phantasms. Non-human entities that existed beyond the veil. Supernatural creatures that you would see in fantasy stories or old legends.


    As a magus, the general rule was to avoid them when you could. With enough time to prepare, and a healthy knowledge of the phantasms weakness, you could exploit or kill them. If it really came down to a fight, humanity could vanquish those who hid beyond the veil. But it wasn¡¯t easy. There were sacrifices, or requirements to do so. Rarely were the rewards worth the costs, and it was almost always better for a person to simply appease or make deals with those phantasms than fight them.


    But since his parents died and Ern took over their work, he was quick to learn that was mostly untrue. The strongest phantasms were beyond the scope of human interaction, sure, but they were uncommon. The general phantasm you met on the street was no stronger than a regular person, and sometimes weaker.


    That did not include Markus.


    Markus was a being that stood far above man, with a massive difference in power between. To him, humans were nothing more than playthings, and Markus was considered pretty weak in his own cliques.


    A member of the hematophage family, Markus was a vampire.


    ***


    The bullet, after being fired from the chamber, did not penetrate Markus¡¯s hoodie sweatshirt. It wasn¡¯t that Anime missed, nor that Markus dodged, even though he easily could¡¯ve. There was a restriction in place that prevented the harm from being done.


    So instead, the shot that should have hit Markus square in the chest and killed him, ended up striking Anime instead. The bullet exploded into the man¡¯s body, ripping his ribs apart and popping his lung before continuing on and blasting a hole in the man¡¯s back. The bullet shattered the glass from a case behind Anime as he was tossed backways into it, blood splattering across the floor as he landed.


    Instant death.


    ¡°Huh, what the heck man?¡± Markus asked, frowning. ¡°Why¡¯d ya¡¯ just go and shoot me like that? Didn¡¯t I tell you I was gonna kill you, not that you were gonna kill yourself? You¡¯re not supposed to fight back, you¡¯re just supposed to die.¡±


    Fish made the same mistake, not learning from the death of his friend as he unloaded his gun into Markus. For every bullet that should have penetrated Markus¡¯s skin, the damage was instead reflected onto the shooter¡¯s body, but at a far more powerful level. The shots exploded into Fish, blowing a hole in his leg and shoulder. He fell to the ground gasping out in silent pain, unable to suck breath into his lungs as he began to bleed. His body started spasming as Markus stood over it, a thin black string-sized tendril emerging from the vampire¡¯s fingernail to suck up the blood like a mosquito. The casual and relaxed nature Markus displayed made the contrast between the inhuman movements of the dying person just that much more terrifying. Gorilla wet his pants.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it you didn¡¯t make those guns yourself,¡± Markus said. He looked directly at Golf-ball, and winked. ¡°But whatever. Not like it would¡¯ve mattered much anyway. Now come on, decide how you want to die. Beheading? Impalement? Castration?¡±


    ¡°Can I choose none of the above?¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not really an option¡­¡± Markus said, then stopped. He recognized the voice, and walked right by Golf-ball to see Ern sitting down on the ground. ¡°Woah, Little Erny! What¡¯s up dude?¡±


    ¡°Eh, not much,¡± Ern said. ¡°I came to get some dinner and ended up becoming a hostage instead. Wild.¡±


    ¡°By these guys?¡±


    ¡°Yep. Come on, they have guns. You may be bulletproof, but I¡¯m just a simple flesh and blood human. If I¡¯d get shot I¡¯d die.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true huh? Guess I¡¯ve spent so long being immortal I forgot.¡±


    After a pause, Markus stuck out his tongue to show he was being sarcastic. He pushed Golf-Ball aside to get closer to Ern, giving the robber a perfect opportunity to sprint out of the store. But the man didn¡¯t take it. The primal fear installed into his body by Markus¡¯s appearance kept him still.


    ¡°So, how¡¯ve you been?¡±


    ¡°Not bad, can¡¯t complain,¡± Ern said. ¡°Other than being held hostage, you know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, haha. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s not normal. Oh, I was actually wondering, what¡¯s with this?¡± As he asked, Markus bent over Ern and pushed his finger against Ern¡¯s shirt. Even though Ern couldn¡¯t see what Markus was touching, he knew what he was talking about.


    ¡°Haha, I was wondering if you¡¯d notice,¡± Ern said, smiling. He reached out a hand to Markus, who grabbed it and pulled the boy up to his feet. ¡°Just like, thirty minutes ago, I completed a ritual to summon and bind a familiar. His name is Bezret. Although, wanna know something funny? I accidentally messed the ritual up. Here, come on little guy, show yourself.¡±


    Ern extended his palm.


    After a few seconds, a small orb of shadows and darkness formed in the center of it, gaining weight and sitting on Ern¡¯s hand. In the center of the small, snake-like creature was a yellow eye, slitted and staring right at Markus.


    ¡°I am Bezret.¡±


    ¡°Oh wow, you weren¡¯t wrong,¡± Markus said, reaching out to brush his finger against the shade¡¯s head. ¡°This thing is tiny. Kinda cute, actually.¡±


    ¡°I am not cute. I am very scary.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. That just makes you seem cuter, though.¡±


    ¡°Grr.¡±


    As though finding this the perfect time to act, since everyone seemed distracted, Gorilla got up and dashed to the door. He grabbed onto a stand of magazines and tossed it backwards, hoping to propel himself forward.


    But it didn¡¯t matter.


    No human could match Markus¡¯s speed.


    A thin black line separated Gorilla¡¯s legs from his body, right at the knee. A clean cut, as though done by a laser. The man toppled to the ground and screamed, grabbing at his bloody stumps before Markus scoffed.


    ¡°Sorry, give me one second,¡± he said to Ern, before walking passed Golf-ball (who had yet to move) over to Gorilla. Markus put his foot on top of Gorilla¡¯s head. The robber was sobbing openly now, weakly using one hand to try and move the boot and the other to hold his damaged legs. ¡°Come on, dude. Can¡¯t you tell this isn¡¯t the time to try running?¡±


    Gorilla didn¡¯t get a chance to respond. Markus kicked him hard enough to snap his neck backwards.


    ¡°Dang,¡± Ern said. He looked at Golf-ball and shrugged. ¡°What did these guys do to make you mad?¡±


    Markus didn¡¯t answer immediately, letting black thread drip from his fingers over the pool of blood at his feet. As though attracted like magnets, Gorilla¡¯s red blood started slowly flowing to the thread, and began to get sucked up. Not all of it was drained as Markus finished, and he returned to Ern. It looked like he was mulling something over in his head, and he put a hand on Ern¡¯s shoulder. Bezret hopped off of Ern¡¯s hand and scurried around on the floor, away from the two of them and further back in the store.


    ¡°Ern.¡±


    ¡°Mar...ah, I suppose I should call you Mozart while you¡¯re in the field, huh?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d prefer it, you know the rules. Codenames while in action.¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    Markus sighed.


    ¡°Ern, I hate having to tell you this,¡± he said. ¡°But I¡¯m not here for pleasure. It¡¯s a job.¡±


    ¡°And the job is...?¡±


    ¡°Well, to put it simply, I was told to come to this convenience store, around this time, and kill everyone inside.¡±


    ***


    Caitlyn was distracted.


    Perhaps the blow to the head had been more severe than she initially assumed. That thought passed through her head. But even though she was acutely aware that her mind wasn¡¯t working correctly, she couldn¡¯t focus. Gunshot. Screams. Violence. Blood. Horror. Then more gunshots. This was a scene of nightmare. Any normal person would be terrified, and any normal person would be trying to think of a way to survive.


    Yet Caitlyn was entirely focused on the strange dark entity that had wrapped itself around Ern¡¯s body. The newcomer, Mozart, or whatever his name was, walked over and touched it, then the shadows coalesced into a thin snake. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    It talked.


    Or at least it seemed like it talked. The way it moved was unnatural: while it wiggled like a normal snake would, the image it gave off was closer to the shadow of a serpent. The slight delay in its movements. The way it crossed over itself. Caitlyn simply could not get it out of her head.


    Ha.


    Was it a hallucination?


    That was early.


    Her mother was institutionalized ten years ago. Seeing things in the dark and raving about them. Transforming from a kind woman to a lunatic. But it wasn¡¯t just so simple. Upon learning this, Caitlyn¡¯s father talked with the doctors and did some digging. Turns out it was a hereditary issue, shared by all the women in Caitlyn¡¯s family. Her mother, her mother¡¯s mother, and so on, all devolved into mania by their early twenties or thirties. Soon after, they would kill themselves. There were very few things that frightened Caitlyn, but losing her mind was one of them. Actually, it was practically the only thing that did. The sobering thought that one day, while everything seemed normal to her, the world around would change and she¡¯d lose touch¡­


    There was nothing more horrifying.


    But she should¡¯ve at least had some time before then, right? She wasn¡¯t even close to her twenties¡­


    Could it be due to stress? Was this situation aggravating it? Whatever unconfirmed and recluse brain malfunction she had?


    The shadow slithered towards her. Close enough that its jaundiced eye was face to face with Caitlyn. She felt like she could smell it: ash.


    What¡¯s more...she felt like she wanted to eat it.


    The thought nearly made her vomit. As though the fugue state was banished entirely, Caitlyn suddenly realized where she was and what was happening, and she gasped and pushed herself back, slipping on her blood and banging the back of her head against the glass door that kept the refrigerated drinks cool.


    It was real. It had to be. She was so close that she could almost touch it. And she really wanted to. But her body was revolting. Kicking against it, though the tiny snake was able to deftly avoid the strikes. Closer and closer it got, but still never touching her body.


    Losing control of her mind completely, Caitlyn grabbed it.


    ***


    Ern was about to say something when he heard a scream in his mind. One of pain, and to Ern, it was as though someone were shouting directly into his eardrums. He clutched his head for a second and staggered, almost falling, but Markus kept him up, using both hands to steady his friend.


    ¡°You okay?¡±


    But Ern didn¡¯t answer. There was only one reason that would happen.


    ¡°Bezret!¡±


    In an unusual display of energy, Ern turned around and called out for his familiar. It was quite shocking to see the small snake being held down by the hostage girl. She was pressing the snake down on the ground with one hand, and using the other to pry Bezret¡¯s eyeball out. Ern was frozen for a second in disbelief. Earlier, before talking with the robbers, Ern had told Bezret to secretly search the store for any sources of Od. The results were negligible. That girl was just a normal person.


    And while it wasn¡¯t common, normal people could see phantasms. Even semi-imaginary or intangible ones like shades.


    But touching one was impossible for a human. The only reason Ern could even partially feel Bezret¡¯s weight was because of the various markings that had been bestowed upon him by the familiar ritual. Did Bezret make a mistake and not notice her?


    Either way, Ern needed to stop this.


    Now Ern is a pretty thin guy. He¡¯s underweight and short, and even though he¡¯s sixteen years old, he looks barely a day over thirteen. And his enemy, this strange girl, was likely bigger and stronger than him. That was an easy call to make. However, even if she was his superior in physical strength, by tackling her at full force from behind when she wasn¡¯t paying attention, Ern was able to knock her off Bezret and free his familiar. Instantly, the snake darted away and evaporated into smoke, wafting back to Ern to sink into his skin.


    Before she could do or say anything, Ern jumped off. If he had one good physical trait, it was his speed.


    In his mind, he was prepared for her to strike him, so he clenched his eyes shut and braced himself for the strike, but it never came. When he opened his eyes, the girl was simply staring at him silently. She didn¡¯t even move from the position where he¡¯d knocked her down.


    ¡°So, uh¡­¡± Markus interrupted. ¡°Is everything okay down there? Ahaha¡­¡± He felt awkward. It was his job to kill everybody here, and it was starting to take a little too long.


    ¡°Yeah, everything is good,¡± Ern said. Possibilities were racing through his mind. Who was this person?


    Markus grabbed his shoulder.


    ¡°Hey, Ern,¡± he started. ¡°Why¡¯d you come here tonight?¡±


    It was a simple, innocent question.


    ¡°I already told you,¡± Ern replied. ¡°I came here to get food.¡±


    ¡°Then this is just a random coincidence?¡±


    ¡°So it seems.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Markus crossed his arms and frowned. ¡°Well, like what ¡®I¡¯ said, I¡¯m here for a job, and that involves killing everyone here. Now, I¡¯m pretty sure that technically includes you too.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a problem.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡±


    Ern looked down at the girl. The gears in his brain were slowly being put to use, and an idea was forming.


    ¡°By the Boss? He¡¯s the one who wanted you to come here?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°And did he tell you why he wanted you to kill everyone? A hint, perhaps?¡± Ern asked. He held his hand out as Bezret came forth, wrapping around his fingers. The yellow eye was smaller, and seemed wary of the girl.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t tell me a thing. Just to slaughter everyone. And I should be doing that, don¡¯t want to let the barrier collapse. And get caught by the police. But it really seems weird that he¡¯d want me to kill you, ya¡¯ know?¡±


    ¡°Probably shouldn¡¯t let that happen,¡± Ern said. ¡°Here, what about this: don¡¯t kill me right now, and let me talk with the Boss. You can bring me to him, and I won¡¯t try any funny business. Then, when we¡¯re talking to him, he can say for sure whether or not I¡¯m supposed to die. Like, if that was his intent, you can just kill me on the spot. Because it doesn¡¯t really make sense to kill me. Plus, you don¡¯t want to either, right?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°I wish you were a little more committed to not wanting to kill me, but I¡¯ll take it,¡± Ern said, nodding. ¡°In that case, what do you think? Agree?¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    ***


    Markus had to think about it. Normally, thinking wasn¡¯t part of his job, and he could get by solely on instinct, so this was like trying to flex a weak muscle. On one hand, when Alfonse, the Boss, told you to do something, you did it without asking questions. But on the other hand, it could¡¯ve just been a coincidence that Ern was here right now. Killing him would mean killing one of Alfonse¡¯s allies, and that seemed like it¡¯d probably be a bad thing. But then on the other other hand, Alfonse was always coming up with those tricky plans, so this might¡¯ve been something he considered. The fact Ern was able to come up with a plan so quickly also bothered Markus, and the whole thing with the little shadow snake seemed fishy as well.


    Aghhh!


    It was too confusing!


    To let his anger out, Markus smacked Golf-ball in the back of the head, cracking the man¡¯s skull. It was an instant death. Markus let the thread fall from his fingernails to absorb the man¡¯s blood, then started tapping his toe. What to do, what to do?


    Killing people helped him think. Now that the only possible runners were dealt with, Markus could go to town on the helpless folk. He started with the cashier, who was unconscious and tied up. Markus decided to drain his blood like a normal vampire might, and placed his hand upon the man¡¯s heart. Slowly, blood began to flow towards the center, then coagulated in the still beating organ. Markus slipped his hand through the skin and bones to touch the heart, and pressed a singer finger inside. From there, he was able to suck out enough to kill the man. But still, even after doing that, there was no clarity to be found. In fact, Markus spent more time thinking about how much he liked blood than what he should do with Ern! For shame!


    Well, there was always the old lady and the girl. It seemed that Ern was talking to the younger one while Markus thought, so he decided to go to the granny. There was little life left in her mangled form, but that just made it taste better. He lifted her off the ground, shook her, then lapped the blood up with his mouth. Supposedly that was what the older hematophages did, but Markus had never met any. Nowadays, it was just the savages and the fresh blooded, but it still had some appeal.


    Okay, yeah, he didn¡¯t figure anything out. That was fine though.


    Markus decided he¡¯d just do whatever Ern suggested. Worse came to worst, he would just accept some punishment, and that¡¯d be it.


    With a smile on his face, Markus called out: ¡°Ern, alright, I think I came up with an idea!¡±


    ***


    During the time Markus spent thinking and killing, before Markus came to a conclusion, Ern let his curiosity out. Might as well, since he could be dying in a few minutes.


    ¡°Bezret, become my eyes,¡± Ern said, lifting the familiar up to his glasses. ¡°You can help me with spiritsight, right?¡±


    ¡®Yes, master.¡¯


    Spiritsight was a technique most practiced magi knew. A simple technique, with many different applications, depending on the root of a person¡¯s soul. For Ern, using spiritsight degraded his vision permanently. It was due to overuse of it as a child that he was required to wear glasses, and any further use could permanently blind him. But by using Bezret as a proxy, he could mitigate that damage, and only go blind for a few minutes. That was a far better trade off. At least, that was assuming everything went right.


    The shadows entered his eyes, stitching themselves to the retina. It didn¡¯t feel horrible; the sensation was like putting on very comfortable contacts that moved on their own. With Bezret resting on his eyes, Ern no longer needed to blink, and he channeled his Od towards his eyes, activating his spiritsight.


    The root of Ern¡¯s soul was passed down to him through his father¡¯s bloodline, and compounded with his mother¡¯s. The ability to read and determine the energy of another¡¯s soul. Normally, it didn¡¯t amount to much good, but it did have some basic uses. It let Ern determine whether someone was a phantasm or not, on the most basic level. After that, the only use was checking for leakage. A skill basically only useful against curses and spirits, Ern could learn things about them. Weaknesses, attachments, or patterns. Great for doing exorcisms, which is what his parents specialized in before their deaths.


    At first, everything was black.


    But Ern knew this was normal. He did not panic. Slowly, bright blue dots started to appear in his vision. Very quickly one dot grew to a massive size, just a bit to Ern¡¯s right. This was Markus. A little further on, a blue box appeared. The barrier keeping the convenience store segregated from reality. That still confused Ern: if Markus wasn¡¯t the one who put this up, who was it? Was someone else from the Parci clan here on backup? But if so, why haven¡¯t they shown themselves? And if it was someone inside, who was doing the robbery...well, none of them seemed the type. Plus, if they¡¯d been killed, the barrier would normally be dispelled. Quite a strange situation. Of course, that wasn¡¯t what Ern really cared about.


    His attention focused on the new bloom of blue flames at his feet.


    He felt surprise from his familiar.


    Oh? This wasn¡¯t what Bezret saw earlier, when observing the store. Then¡­


    An awakening?


    Was this event traumatic enough for her to suddenly develop supernatural powers? Or perhaps it was coming into contact with Bezret, or possibly Markus that did the job. Either way, something in her only activated a few minutes ago. That was what bothered Bezret.


    What bothered Ern was the quality of this soul.


    It was absolutely terrible. Filled with nothing but holes and weakness. A pit of darkness and waste that never seemed to end, just collapsing in on itself endlessly. An eternity. There was something else, deeper, that Ern almost wanted to peer into, but before he could, he heard Markus shout:


    ¡°Ern, alright, I think I came up with an idea!¡±


    ***


    Caitlyn was trapped within her own mind. Whatever that thing was...she touched it. There was some form to it. Not a hallucination...probably? But couldn¡¯t that just be her mind controlling her? Making her think she held it, that there was substance to an illusion? There was no way of proving it. No way of determining the truth. It couldn¡¯t be real, so it must have been fake. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw blood. This was a nightmare. But even still, she felt cogent enough to wallow in sadness.


    What did this look like to other people? Was she just sitting down on the ground, spacing out? How much of tonight had been real? Did she even get hit on the head? Were there even robbers in the store? Did she even leave her house? Where was she?


    Of course, it all seemed real. Hazy and faded, but real. If it didn¡¯t, it wouldn¡¯t be a convincing hallucination. This was chaos, how could anyone live through this? Slowly, Caitlyn was beginning to feel less horror at the dissociation and more pity. Was this what her mother went through all those years? What would it be like spending every day like this? Not being able to tell the difference between reality and the illusions. Suddenly, death felt like a preferable alternative. It would make this a lot easier.


    Aaahhhhh¡­


    But she couldn¡¯t.


    This was real life. This was reality. Everything that was happening was real. As much as Caitlyn tried, her mind wouldn¡¯t shatter. Even if none of this made sense, her brain was putting together the pieces as rationally as possible.


    There was some kind of small shadowy snake. It seemed to be friends with the kid from her school, Ern. And Ern seemed to also be friends with the strange black man who killed all the robbers with some hidden weapon. This was an impossible scenario, and any normal person would just think they were going crazy. Surely Caitlyn did to...but she wasn¡¯t. This was reality. But a nonsensical one.


    Ern was looking at her, the snake sliding through his eyes. How strange? It was slithering in and out of his face as though it were a ghost. Oh, it probably was a ghost. Was this like Ghost Whisperer or something? Caitlyn never watched television, but when she was a kid, she seemed to remember her parents liking a show by that name. Some lady could see ghosts. Was that what was happening here?


    No, it seemed like Ern knew it was there. He rubbed against it as he stared at her.


    What was he looking at?


    Caitlyn felt bothered. People rarely paid attention to her, and she liked that. That was the best way to live.


    ¡°Ern, alright, I think I came up with an idea!¡±


    ***


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Ern said, letting Bezret fall from his face. As expected, he couldn¡¯t see much, with his vision going completely white. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take you to the Boss, like you suggested,¡± Markus started. ¡°But to make sure you don¡¯t do anything bad or tricky, I¡¯ll slice off your arms and legs. Remove them totally, so you can¡¯t move by yourself. Obviously I won¡¯t kill ya¡¯ or anything, I¡¯ll make sure to leave a clean cut. Fill you up full of blood, if you need it. You can regrow limbs, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    Well, he technically could.


    ¡°It¡¯d be a lot of trouble,¡± Ern finally decided, rubbing his face. ¡°Are you sure there¡¯s a need for that? I promise I won¡¯t do anything dumb.¡±


    ¡°Ha. A promise from you ain¡¯t worth much, bub,¡± Markus said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry! We can just ask Ares to make a few for you, temporarily. Then you can figure it out at your own pace. Aren¡¯t you friends with a doctor?¡±


    ¡°...doctor¡¯s don¡¯t normally replace limbs...but...if this is the only way¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Markus said, smiling wide. ¡°I promise, it¡¯ll probably only hurt a lot, but now that much. I mean, it¡¯s just your arms and legs, right?¡±


    ¡°Right. Oh, wait, I just thought of something. Could you tie them up instead?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°You just want to cut my arms and legs off, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Markus started. ¡°I¡¯d be lying if I said that wasn¡¯t part of it, but there¡¯s more. You got that little shadow shade dude now, so I don¡¯t want ya¡¯ doing anything shady. Get it? Shade...shady? Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?¡±


    ¡°Slim Shady?¡±


    ¡°...you¡¯re joking?¡±


    ¡°Sorry buddy,¡± Ern said. ¡°I don¡¯t listen to old people music.¡±


    ¡°But...that¡¯s¡­¡±


    Markus didn¡¯t know what to say, so he just sighed, then let bloody threads slide out from his fingers, draping down like thin razor wires from a puppeteer¡¯s paddle. As he lifted a hand to reach out for Ern, he saw the teen take a slow step back, smiling weakly.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Ern said. ¡°Before you do that, I was wondering if I could ask for one more thing¡­¡±


    ***


    --Fifteen minutes later--


    Two more weeks until the full moon and Daniel was still without a stable job.


    Seattle was supposed to be a new start for the man, after the incident at Odessa, however, things really hadn¡¯t been working in his favor. A friend of a friend worked pretty hard to get Daniel some work up in Washington, but all of the calls Daniel made to the recruiter ended up just being pointless. He had absolutely no skills and no previous work history, plus he couldn¡¯t complete a background check, so any job that paid well was off the table. It didn¡¯t help that Daniel was missing any education above middle school.


    To make ends meet, he had been doing different minimum wage and odd jobs around the city, trying to scrounge up cash while he bummed away near homeless shelters. Shuffling through the streets, picking up fliers and ads at bus stops for work, he¡¯d done all sorts of things: cleaning, moving, testing out strange drugs and filling out surveys. It was a complicated life.


    The most recent struggle he found himself in was a courier job. On the tin, it was quite simple. Ride your bike (which he found in a dumpster) to a location, pick up a package, then ride it to another spot and drop it off. Not the safest work he¡¯d ever done, since he was most likely delivering drugs, but it was nice for some quick and easy cash. Morals were something Daniel didn¡¯t quite have; when you¡¯re barely surviving in the world, the line between right and wrong begins to fade.


    But when his bike tire popped during the last delivery, he decided that wouldn¡¯t work anymore.


    That was the reason why he ended up just walking around aimlessly, with only about forty dollars to his name. Going over simple calculations to figure out what that cash could be used for. It was during this random walk when he saw something that did strike his moral compass. Something that gave him pause and feel alarm.


    A dangerous looking man, whistling an exotic tune as he walked down the street, one arm hoisting an unconscious girl over his shoulder and the other...some sort of quadrapelegic boy? The scene was so ludicrous Daniel needed to do a double take, and even after that, he rubbed his eyes violently to make sure it wasn¡¯t a delusion. No, that was definitely real. This was...probably a crime? Well, probably. In most places, kidnapping was illegal. Daniel was pretty sure of that.


    But could he have been misguided?


    Neither of the kids seemed to be struggling, and the man didn¡¯t seem particularly worried about his surroundings. That made it seem pretty normal. Was it possible that this muscular man was actually just a nice guy who was helping out these kids? Perhaps they were all at a party and got tired, so he decided to help carry them home. Yeah, that was likely. It actually sort of made sense. If that was the case, then everything was fine.


    Daniel was certainly not intelligent, nor was he wise or capable. What he did have was the rare ability to recognize his own failings, his own stupidity, granting him the candor to judge his own thoughts and overthink everything.


    Despite Daniel¡¯s fear that something horrible was happening in front of him, he allowed himself to become ignorant of it, questioning his own suspicions in a way to block out all the evils of the world. It was easy to forget terrible things in the city, wasn¡¯t it? A small event like this was nothing compared to the many happening to the hundreds of thousands on these streets. That¡¯s why he came here, to escape the terrors of small towns. To become just another bystander.


    He looked up at the dark clouds, which were currently giving a reprieve from the rain.


    Dang.


    Daniel decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and dashed around, trying to find the closest payphone possible. It wasn¡¯t easy, but when he did, he rang up the emergency hotline as quickly as possible.

 Chapter 4

    A person¡¯s name is everything.


    No matter how wonderful you are, or how terrible you are, if your name fits a certain stereotype or sound, you¡¯ll never be seen as anything different. That¡¯s the reason certain names simply no longer exist; for instance, some courts might rule naming a child Hitler or Stalin to be forms of abuse. While that might be extreme, it doesn¡¯t detract from the importance of a person¡¯s name.


    Which was why, no matter what he did, or how he acted, Officer Jake Bambi would never be respected in his entire life. He came to realize this at a young age. Once upon a time, he dreamed of changing it, but circumstances made him reconsider. Surely it wasn¡¯t that bad, was it? Just a bit of ribbing here, a little teasing there. Nothing awful. To keep people from going too far, Bambi went out of his way to look as tough as possible. Overcompensating by building muscles, shaving his head, and wearing a permanent scowl. Of course, that just made him seem like the gentle giant type, since his last name biased people into thinking he was a kind soul. In the end, it was all mostly fine. He could get through life without much trouble.


    But the one thing that grated on him more than anything else was when people referred to him by his last name.


    Everytime it happened, his left eye twitched.


    ¡°Bambi!¡±


    Like that.


    ¡°Yes, chief?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not doing anything right now, right?¡± The division chief was a portly man with a mustache. He was finishing some paperwork, intentionally going as slowly as possible to avoid going back home to his family. ¡°What the hell am I saying? You never do any work.¡±


    ¡°Chief...you wound me¡­¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± the division chief said. ¡°Seriously, you¡¯re free? We just got a call.¡±


    ¡°...about?¡±


    ¡°Somebody saw something strange down in a residential neighborhood. Could just be a prank call, but we don¡¯t have anyone patrolling the area. My guess would be it¡¯s just some kids playing a prank, but we can¡¯t just let it be.¡±


    ¡°Something strange?¡±


    ¡°Some ¡®rough¡¯ sounding man said he saw what might¡¯ve been a kidnapping happening. Called from a payphone and didn¡¯t give any other information, but we¡¯ve got the rough address of where the call came from.¡± The chief tossed a piece of paper with some hastily scribbled street names on it. ¡°Probably a waste of time, like I said, but we can¡¯t just ignore it. And since you¡¯re expendable and all¡­¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you can¡¯t send someone else?¡±


    ¡°Get off your ass!¡±


    In a matter of minutes, Bambi was in his car and driving towards the scene. Well, his shift was basically starting anyway, so this made sense, but it was still annoying. Driving through residential areas bothered him. He couldn¡¯t exactly describe why, but they did. Perhaps it was because dealing with family emergencies felt uncomfortable to him?


    Driving around aimlessly because of prank phone calls wasn¡¯t much better. He sighed as he came up to a red light. It was almost nine at night, and while many of the houses were lit up on the inside, there were plenty that had gone completely dark. He was driving around in a standard cruiser, so if there were any actual criminals around this area, and they saw him, it¡¯d be easy just to hop a fence into one of these house¡¯s backyards. Maybe that was what bothered him about these neighborhoods. As someone who always lived in tiny apartments, having a big sprawling and open attachment just seemed weird.


    By pure coincidence, he happened to see a familiar figure walk across the road, almost a block to his left.


    Jesus fucking christ.


    If that was who he thought it was¡­


    Bambi pulled the car around to just a bit before where the alley would exit, but not to where anyone walking through would see him. He flipped the lights off and got out of his cruiser, walking over to the alley exit slowly. He could hear voices, two men talking, as he turned his walkie talkie off. When the men were about to see him, he took a step out with his hands above his head in as non-threatening a pose as possible.


    ¡°Evening, everyone,¡± Bambi said, interrupting the conversation. He tried to think of something to say, but things looked so much worse from up front that he couldn¡¯t come up with anything else. Markus looked mostly normal, other than wearing a hoodie completely soaked with blood. Some it still seemed fresh. Under one arm was Ern, a local magi, but he was missing his arms and legs at the elbow and knee joints. They were completely gone. Then, Markus had hoisted what looked like a teenage girl over his other shoulder. From a distance, it was harder to tell the specifics of the three, as they shimmered like a heat wave. But now, with everything becoming clear, Bambi started getting worried. Eventually, his mind stopped short-circuiting, and he decided on what to say. ¡°What the fuck are you all doing?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t curse.¡±


    The two men acted like absolutely nothing was wrong.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Bambi said. ¡°Let me repeat myself: what the frick are you all doing?¡±


    ¡°Oh, morning officer,¡± Ern said, tilting his head a bit. Markus nodded as well.


    Bambi waited for the explanation.


    ¡°This might look suspicious, I admit,¡± Ern continued. ¡°But trust me, no, trust us. This is absolutely not suspicious at all. We are perfectly normal citizens doing as perfectly normal citizens do.¡±


    ¡°You-¡±


    ¡°Let me finish,¡± Ern snapped. Then he smirked as Bambi frowned. That kid was the definition of evil. ¡°We just had a bit of a scuffle. Everything is resolved, probably. I¡¯m not in any danger, and neither is Markus. Or this girl. She¡¯s unconscious, but trust me, she¡¯s plenty fine. At least for now.¡±


    ¡°For now?¡±


    ¡°For now,¡± Ern repeated. He looked at Markus. ¡°This is just a bit of...inter faction trouble. Nothing for the authorities to worry about. I mean, come on, you don¡¯t want us in your hair, do you?¡±


    Bambi was a corrupt cop. That was another way he bolstered his manhood. Taking kickbacks from the organized crime groups in the city, which also happened to be bizarre cults of demons and wizards, from a place they called ¡®beyond the veil¡¯. Bambi barely knew anything about it, only that he got paid well to keep all their secrets under the table.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone in my hair-¡±


    ¡°If you had any.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Bambi said. He cleared his throat. ¡°But there¡¯s not much I can do when you¡¯re walking around in public like this.¡±


    ¡°In public?¡± Markus asked. He scoffed. ¡°But Mr. Officer Bambi Sir, we¡¯re not technically in public. Ern and I were masking our presence, so the ignorant wouldn¡¯t take note of us.¡±


    ¡°They shouldn¡¯t,¡± Ern agreed. ¡°But then again...if Bambi over here found us, it wasn¡¯t working perfectly, was it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re talking about, and I don¡¯t really care about the specifics,¡± Bambi said. ¡°But yes, I did see you. And I¡¯m not the only one. We got a call to an emergency hotline about a black man carrying what looked like two children, one of whom didn¡¯t have any arms or legs. Thought it was a prank call¡­¡±


    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t,¡± Ern finished Bambi¡¯s grumble. ¡°That¡¯s strange.¡± He looked at the unconscious girl. Her face was completely covered by her long black hair. It almost looked like the creepy ghost from that Japanese movie, though he couldn¡¯t tell her ethnicity. ¡°Well, I can think of a few reasons why my familiar was having trouble disguising us.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care what your reasons are,¡± Bambi said. ¡°What I care about is making sure you don¡¯t get caught so I get paid. Since it was an anonymous call, it should be pretty easy to cover this all up...but there wasn¡¯t anything else, right? Nothing I should know about?¡±


    The way Markus and Ern both smiled at the same time made Bambi¡¯s stomach turn.


    ¡°What the fuck happened?¡±


    ¡°What the frick, you mean.¡±


    Bambi grated his teeth. To stay in the graces of Alfonse Parci, one needed to watch their tongue and not use swear words. It pissed him off, especially when his underlings did it to such an extent.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Bambi said. ¡°What the frick happened?¡±


    Ern sighed for a second, then cleared his throat.


    ***


    --Earlier--


    ¡°Before that,¡± Ern said. ¡°I was wondering if I could ask for one more thing¡­¡±


    ¡°Huh? More than sparing your life?¡±


    ¡°Trust me, this is well worth the five seconds it¡¯ll take to explain.¡±


    Markus nodded and crossed his arms. ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    ¡°Bezret,¡± Ern said, calling his familiar out. The snake slithered out onto his palm, yellow eye forward. ¡°Okay, Markus, take a closer look. You can sense the Od that comes together to form Bezret, right?¡±


    The source of energy and life, Od was a primordial force that was contained in all beings. Certain phantasms, including spirits and shades, were created entirely out of this material. To others, like vampires, Od was a food source. The tiny bits of Od that flowed through the bloodstream were the typical meals a vampire ate, but if necessary, they could consume other phantasms. They usually lacked in flavor, but a vampire as old as Markus could tell the quality of Od from a creature after a few seconds of study. He squinted at the familiar to do so before speaking.


    ¡°I can¡­¡± Markus started, then paused. He didn¡¯t know much about the relationships between masters and familiars, but something seemed wrong. ¡°Your cute little snake is missing something.¡±


    ¡°It was drained,¡± Ern said. ¡°Because something, or some¡¯one¡¯, sucked the life essence out of it. Not you, right?¡±


    ¡°I was too busy with these clowns.¡± As Markus said that, he pointed at the bloody bodies of the robbers.


    ¡°Exactly. So, if it wasn¡¯t you, and it wasn¡¯t me, then who was it?¡±


    The answer seemed sort of obvious, so Markus looked at the girl, curled up on the ground and shaking. There was blood splattered on the ground in front of her. It looked disgusting. Right...it was the same type of blood a phantasm would have. The kind of meal Markus could eat if he really wanted to, but would barely provide any sustenance. Then did that mean she was the one who bit off part of Ern¡¯s familiar?


    ¡°That¡¯s completely right,¡± Ern said before Markus could open his mouth. ¡°My good friend and hostage here, Ms. Whatshername. Without thinking, my cute Bezret-¡± (upon being called cute again Bezret growled and vanished into the darkness under Ern¡¯s sleeve) ¡°-stalked over to her. Thinking that it might get a free meal with all the chaos going on, slurping up her misery. But what happened was the complete opposite.


    ¡°In the end, Bezret was the one who got chewed. But from what I can tell, it wasn¡¯t an intentional thing. I mean, take a look at this chick. She ain¡¯t even listening to us right now. Not because she¡¯s scared, but because she¡¯s too focused on something else. That ain¡¯t normal on its own, but what¡¯s less normal is that Bezret lost Od just being close to her.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Geez, Markus, are you kidding me? You don¡¯t even understand this much?¡±


    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t be like that buddy,¡± Markus said, stepping closer and putting his hand on Ern¡¯s head. ¡°Here I am sparing your life...so why don¡¯t ya¡¯ just explain it instead of playing around?¡±


    Ern gulped audibly.


    ¡°Right, right. Yes, that¡¯s what I was going to continue doing,¡± Ern said. ¡°Well, you probably already knew this, but sucking Od out like that just from proximity isn¡¯t normal. Eating it is all well and good, but to just draw it out automatically? To guide Bezret over and drain from it without even realizing? Markus, this is totally crazy, but this girl isn¡¯t normal. I¡¯m just spitballing here, but the smart money says she¡¯s some kind of cursed human. Like, a really high grade one, too. I¡¯m talking Grade A, devourer or fiend level.¡±


    ¡°Those sound powerful.¡±


    ¡°That they are,¡± Ern confirmed. ¡°And they are absolutely worth a lot. Now, this girl isn¡¯t some long time super powerful phantasm. The exact opposite. When we came in, she was absolutely normal. It was exposure to Bezret and yourself that awakened her to this, somehow.¡±


    Markus nodded.


    But he was starting to get bored. This job was already taking a long time, and he wanted to play some basketball with his other vampire friends. All this nerd talk with Ern was endearing, but seemed pointless.


    So he said that.


    ¡°Ern, what¡¯s the point? What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, that¡¯s what we were talking about,¡± Ern said. He smiled at Markus and clapped his hands together. ¡°I¡¯ve got a proposition for you.¡±


    ¡°Propersation?¡±


    ¡°Close enough. You were told to come here and kill everybody, right?¡±


    ¡°I was.¡±


    ¡°But you didn¡¯t know I was supposed to be here.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t know the girl was here either. Or not her specifically, but the Boss didn¡¯t tell you about any other phantasms you needed to kill, right?¡±


    ¡°Yep, that¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that seem a bit strange?¡± Ern asked. ¡°The Boss tells you to go clear out a building, but doesn¡¯t tell you about any specific targets? That he would want you to kill a very specific phantasm and/or magus without saying so? That¡¯s not normal for his OCD orders, is it?¡±


    It really wasn¡¯t. If the Boss wanted someone dead, he would tell Markus exactly who to kill.


    ¡°He¡¯s pretty hecking smart,¡± Ern continued. ¡°But not perfect. Don¡¯t tell him I said that, by the way. He couldn¡¯t predict that I would be here, and there¡¯s no way he could predict that a high grade curse devourer would awaken upon seeing you. That¡¯s completely out of the range of anyone¡¯s estimation. But, that doesn¡¯t mean it can¡¯t be taken advantage of. With a bit of practice, someone like her could be very useful to the Boss. I mean, she¡¯d make my job incredibly easy. Devouring curses like she seems to be able to is pretty uncommon, and I¡¯m sure he would appreciate it.¡±


    ¡°Get to the point.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m suggesting that the two of us go to the Boss and say that we scouted her,¡± Ern finally admitted. He looked over at the girl to see that she was finally paying attention, though her eyes were blurry. Seemed like her glasses had been snapped in two, and she was trying to put them together. ¡°That way, none of us end up getting hurt, and we end up getting maybe some money, instead. A win-win for everyone around. Sounds good, right?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Markus thought for a second, closing his eyes. ¡°Alright. I guess. I¡¯m still gonna remove your arms and legs.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on!¡±


    ¡°You already got your compromise with bringing the girl,¡± Markus said. ¡°Speaking of...yo! Little lady! You got a choice right now. Die, like everyone else here, or get dragged to a mafia family head and maybe die then, but with like, a ten percent less chance of death. Pick your poison!¡±


    It took a few seconds for her to realize she was being spoken to. Hastily, she tried to put her glasses on, but they didn¡¯t stick. Seemed like they were broken in more than just the front.


    ¡°S-sorry?¡±


    ¡°Huh? What are you saying sorry for?¡± Markus asked. ¡°Did you not hear me?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°What? Sorry, I wasn¡¯t really listening.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Markus,¡± Ern said, taking a step between the two of them and putting a hand on Markus¡¯s chest. ¡°I¡¯m way better at talking to girls than you are. Leave this to me.¡± Then, to the girl, he continued: ¡°What¡¯s your name? I¡¯m Ern, and this is Markus. Nice to meet you.¡± He held the other hand out to her, extended to help lift her off the ground.


    She didn¡¯t take it.


    ¡°Yeah, I know who you are,¡± she said. Then, as if bothered by her own words, she frowned. ¡°I¡¯m...my name is Caitlyn. What do you want? What the fuck is going on?¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t use the ¡®f¡¯ word, please.¡±


    ¡°...sorry.¡±


    ¡°But anyway, yeah, I understand the confusion,¡± Ern said. ¡°And I¡¯m glad you¡¯re not freaking out right now like most people would be. I mean, with all the dead bodies and an evil vampire in front of you, that¡¯s gotta be tough on the brain and all.¡±


    Caitlyn was quiet for a few moments before speaking.


    ¡°I think I am freaking out.¡±


    ¡°Then that¡¯s normal. Totally expected in this situation. But whatever, who cares about that. What¡¯s more important is what happens next.¡±


    ¡°Next?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Ern said. ¡°I¡¯ll just repeat what Markus asked you. In simpler terms: do you want to live, or do you want to die?¡±


    ***


    ¡°...and that¡¯s basically the gist of it,¡± Ern finished, nodding and looking quite satisfied with himself. ¡°Now, are we under arrest, officer?¡±


    Bambi did not like Ern.


    The teen was from a family of immoral spellcasters who played with souls and the dead. Bambi wasn¡¯t religious, but desecrating corpses would make anyone bristle. To top it off, Ern was given quite a bit of leniency with his position as the cities only exorcist, which made him free to do whatever he wanted. Offend anyone he wanted. And nobody could do anything about it.


    ¡°You¡¯re fine,¡± Bambi finally said, sighing. ¡°A bunch of people were slaughtered mercilessly, huh? You didn¡¯t clean the scene up at all?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s your job, isn¡¯t it?¡± Markus asked. He smiled, matching the cocky attitude Ern gave the cop.


    Bambi didn¡¯t like Markus either.


    But he couldn¡¯t do anything about it. He was just a corrupt cop, living in a world where horrible creatures like Markus could slaughter him in a second. Bambi looked at the ground.


    ¡°I¡¯ll figure something out,¡± he said. ¡°But you need to be more careful. If other people see you, then there¡¯ll be a big problem.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you go silence the person who saw us?¡±


    ¡°It was an anonymous call. We¡¯ll investigate it, but since I¡¯m gonna just say it was a prank, the force will probably drop it. I¡¯m more concerned with this whole convenience store slaughter or whatever. There was a ward right? Who set it up? And you¡¯re sure the security cameras were affected by it, right? You didn¡¯t leave any other evidence or fingerprints, right? And the causes of death all looked natural? Please tell me that you at least took some precautions to keep it from looking like a living tornado of death went in and killed everything. Wait, you made sure everyone was dead, right? Nobody just hanging on, or anyone hiding? You took those measures, right? So that none of this would get out? No, actually, hold on. Don¡¯t say anything, just stop. Wait.¡±


    Neither Ern or Markus said anything as Bambi continued ranting. ¡°Don¡¯t answer any of those questions. Don¡¯t say anything that would implicate you. No proof, or words that make it seem like you were there. In fact, I have no proof you were. And you won¡¯t give me any. Because I never saw any of you. But please, think really, really, really, reaaaaally hard about what I asked and make sure this doesn¡¯t get traced back to you. Okay?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea who placed the ward, thinking about it,¡± Markus said. ¡°Hey, can you give us a ride?¡±


    Bambi blinked at the vampire.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Darn. Well, it was worth asking. Anyway, I¡¯ll catch you later, Bambi.¡±


    ¡°Seeya later,¡± Ern added, saluting with a nub. ¡°Bambi.¡±


    Caitlyn groaned.


    ¡°Well then,¡± Bambi started as he pulled his keys out. ¡°Markus. Ern. Young girl being kidnapped. It was a pleasure seeing you all tonight. I wish you luck in whatever the fuck you¡¯re doing, and I hope we can agree that none of us met tonight. Capisce?¡±


    ¡°Capisce,¡± Markus said.


    ¡°Capisce,¡± Ern repeated.


    Caitlyn coughed.


    Then, without another word, the officer returned to his car and left the three to their own devices. When they were gone, Bambi clasped his hands together and prayed that none of this came back to him.


    ***


    What was she getting herself into?


    This was reality, Caitlyn realized. Right now, she was sitting inside a small room decorated with red tapestry and elegant paintings on the walls to either side of her. The three of them were let into the room by a large wooden double door, and Markus set them on a velvet couch in the center of the room. A wide desk sat in front of them, and behind it, a glass door continued to a balcony that observed the cloudy sky. The only other person in the room was an enigma. The one who opened the door and told them to sit was a tall man, wearing a fully plated suit of armor, two glowing blue eyes visible underneath the visor. He was wordless, standing in the corner of the room by an alcohol cabinet, though Markus and Ern had greeted him as Carmichael when they entered. The knight didn¡¯t say anything in return, and since then, everything was quiet.


    The bleeding at her forehead had stopped, but it still itched, and it took everything in her not to scratch at it. Accidentally bleeding over expensive looking furniture would be bad. These people...whoever they were...were incredibly dangerous. That thought kept bouncing around in her brain. Earlier, it had seemed like the group of robbers with their guns were the worst people in the world, but it had only taken a few minutes for the man named Markus, or Mozart, to cement his place as the most terrifying. And then, she was forced to come along with them. As some kind of good. It made her stomach turn. What was going to happen? This was some kind of organized crime, right? Did that really happen in Seattle? She wanted to try and run, to sprint away as quickly as possible, but after seeing what Markus did, she knew it wouldn¡¯t matter. Even when confronted by a cop nothing happened. It was inevitable.


    Somehow, despite the horror of it all, Caitlyn felt a bit relieved. Why shouldn¡¯t she? Only half an hour ago, it would¡¯ve seemed like she was about to die. But now, she was just in the clutches of some criminal organization. A much better fate.


    There was a bit of commotion as two men came into the room.


    One drew far more attention than the other.


    He was tall and sharp. His face was thin and his chin cut down like a razor, with a curt smile and relaxed eyes, both with black sclera and red pupils. He had slicked back blond hair, with a few strands sticking out from the front, and was wearing a perfectly fitting black pinstripe suit. The man¡¯s tie was red, and it was held to him by a golden tie clip. He moved with absolute precision, every step with confidence, and when his eyes moved over the three and finally stopped at Caitlyn, she looked away. Whoever this person was, he was scary. There was just something about him that made the room feel oppressive.


    The other man, not so much. A scrawny black guy, wearing a frazzled suit with his tie incorrectly tied. Unshaved and with his tiny afro pressed down on one side and not on the other. He was holding a clipboard and talking as the two entered the room.


    ¡°-which when you look at the amount flowing in from...ah, hold on, this is what Markus was talking about, I think,¡± the black guy said. ¡°Should I be staying for this, Boss?¡±


    Then the blond guy was their boss.


    ¡°Please do,¡± he said, walking around the room over to the desk, where he sat down and put his feet on the table. ¡°Carmichael, bring me something to drink. I hate wine normally, but washing the taste out with some AB neg is truly flavorful. Oh, and some lime with it, as well.¡±


    ¡°As you wish,¡± Carmichael, the man in the suit of armor, said. His voice was like gravel.


    Then it was quiet.


    The only sounds Caitlyn could make out were her own heartbeat and breath, as well as the soft patter of rain on the glass doors and the clinking of glass from the drink being made. She was keenly aware that the Boss was staring at her, but she couldn¡¯t meet his gaze. Her eyes were focused on the ground and she felt tense. This lasted for almost an entire minute before Carmichael finished, walking over to set a wine glass with dark red liquid in front of the Boss.


    ¡°Markus,¡± the Boss started. ¡°I take it you did your job properly?¡±


    ¡°Mmm. Mostly.¡±


    ¡°The ¡®mostly¡¯ referring to these two stragglers?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°Well, I seem to recognize one of them,¡± the Boss said, glancing at Ern. ¡°Normally I¡¯d be pretty pissed that you just decided to go against the job you were supposed to do...but I guess I can¡¯t really complain considering the circumstances. Our little human boy here is most likely worth keeping alive. For now, at least.¡±


    His eyes slowly moved back to Caitlyn.


    ¡°But about the other. She doesn¡¯t look like any of the restricted people I know. I take it she¡¯s a friend of Ern¡¯s? But even so, to bring her here...what¡¯s the purpose?¡±


    The question hung in the air for a second as Markus shrugged. He put a hand on Ern¡¯s shoulder.


    Leaving the heavy explanation all on Ern¡¯s anemic shoulders.


    ¡°Boss, you trust me, right?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Understandable,¡± Ern said. A bead of sweat rolled down his spine. ¡°But even if you don¡¯t trust me, you can at least trust that I¡¯m always looking out for myself. And right now, I¡¯m looking out for myself. This person, Caitlyn, or whatever, may look normal, but that isn¡¯t quite the case. You can sense that, right?¡±


    The Boss took a sip.


    ¡°Of course I can sense her state of being. She¡¯s a phantasm, just like Markus or I. But why does that mean she should be spared? The only reason to keep you alive is because of your usefulness.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saying she¡¯s useful.¡±


    ¡°Then are you useful?¡±


    The Boss asked the question to Caitlyn as he slowly spun in his chair, looking out the window. His back was to the rest of the room, but that didn¡¯t make him seem any less threatening. Caitlyn felt like this was the first time she got a chance to breathe, and blinked.


    Ah, she was supposed to say something here.


    ¡°Uh...I...I¡¯m not sure,¡± Caitlyn admitted. ¡°They were saying something about it...but I¡¯ve got no idea. Sorry. I don¡¯t really want to die, though¡­¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t ¡®really¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    The Boss paused for a moment.


    Then, he sighed and pulled a cellphone from his pocket and sent a quick text. After finishing, he lazily tossed it onto the desk behind him and spun back around to the group.


    ¡°Ern, what good is she? I don¡¯t employ prostitutes, you know that.¡±


    Caitlyn didn¡¯t really listen to Ern¡¯s answer.


    Perhaps it was because the adrenaline was starting to wear off, but Caitlyn was starting to get cold. When she went to the convenience store earlier, she expected to be in and out in under half an hour. To be back home before it even turned nine.


    But now, it was long past that, the clock slowly making its way near midnight. And here she was, sitting inside some criminal headquarters with a bunch of psychos. And psychos that were...not normal. Her mind was still scrambled. These weren¡¯t hallucinations, but it was still difficult to admit they were real. Still¡­


    Her eyes slowly moved to Ern¡¯s stumps.


    When Markus was slicing them off, Ern screamed. It was hellish. Caitlyn was no stranger to horror and slasher film genres, but hearing those screams of raw pain were completely different. Or maybe they weren¡¯t, and it was just because of her proximity that she felt so bothered. Because she knew that it could be her, instead. What did they want her to do? Ah, she knew they talked about it earlier, and she was aware they were talking about it right now, but she just couldn¡¯t pay attention. It was too hard. Too difficult to keep all of this in her head, to keep it all together right now.


    But she did.


    If Caitlyn had one skill, it was staying calm. Things could be horrible, could be traumatizing, or could be wonderful, but after just a little bit of time, Caitlyn would feel her emotions going back to normal. Her pulse stabilizing, and rationality flowing into her brain. Ever since she was a little girl; before her mom was sent away. This superpower of hers, automatic dissociation, had its perks. It let her sit here, looking perfectly calm to outsiders, all while knowing that at any moment she might be killed.


    Or worse. Earlier, she thought that anything would be better than death. I mean, if she wasn¡¯t dead, and she still had her mind intact, couldn¡¯t she just recover? But that was before she saw the Boss. That single word made her feel a knot clench in her guts. Prostitution. There were fates worse than death. She could imagine it. Picture different fates that would cause her to beg for release...things these people probably did without batting an eyelash. This overactive imagination was killing her.


    She¡­


    Stopped thinking when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Caitlyn looked to her side to see the skinny black dude. He was smiling. Not in a cruel way, or a sorry way, but like how her dad used to. The expression was difficult to place, but for a moment, she felt calm.


    The door to the room opened, and a woman in a stylish business suit strolled in. Her hair was messy and long: dark red and falling down to the middle of her back. She was smoking a cigarette and had an eyepatch, with a tattoo of a triangle underneath the other eye. Her jacket was open, and very openly it looked like she was carrying two holstered pistols, each with engravings on the side Caitlyn couldn¡¯t read. The woman glanced at her for a second, then closed the doors behind her. This entrance caused the conversation between Ern and his Boss to stop.


    ¡°Boss,¡± she started. ¡°You texted?¡±


    ¡°Serena, yes, thanks for taking the time out of your oh so busy schedule to come up to the realm of the mortals and immortals,¡± the Boss said, spreading his arms wide to grandstand. ¡°I hate to call you up for something so insignificant, but I was hoping that I could get you to confirm something for me, with your spiritsight.¡±


    The woman named Serena sighed.


    ¡°On this little girl, I take it?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Serena said, pushing hair out of her face. She tied some of it into a ponytail on top of her head, then her single good eye shot to Caitlyn. ¡°What¡¯s your name, kid?¡±


    ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the only person here I don¡¯t know, so yes.¡±


    ¡°...Caitlyn Till.¡±


    ¡°Caitlyn Till,¡± Serena echoed. After a few seconds where she seemed to think the name over in her head, Serena placed one hand over her good eye and used her other hand to remove her eyepatch. ¡°Become illuminated.¡±


    The empty socket expanded.


    Fingers began to crawl out of the woman¡¯s head, longer than they should have been. Gray spindly things with slate fingernails that sprouted from her empty eyeball that soon grew into arms that obscured her entire face. Then, once six arms had emerged up to the shoulders, they stopped moving. The palms slowly opened, each of them holding a glossy eye in the center. As soon as it began, it stopped, and Serena pulled her eyepatch back on.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°I did it. Now what?¡±


    ¡°You tell me. Ern claims this chick is worth my time.¡±


    ¡°Not sure exactly what you want me to tell you,¡± Serena said. She looked back again at Caitlyn with her normal eye. ¡°She¡¯s certainly full of Od, but not enough to make an impression. You¡¯ve gotta be aware of this, right? If you¡¯re a seven on a scale of one to ten and I¡¯m a four, this girl is only a two and a half at best.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±


    ¡°Boss,¡± Ern started. He moved slightly, which caused his limbless body to sway before Markus caught him. ¡°Hold on a second. Sure, she¡¯s not some crazy powerful phantasm just yet, but think of the future!¡±


    ¡°The future?¡±


    ¡°Right. Just because she¡¯s weak right now doesn¡¯t mean that won¡¯t grow exponentially. I mean, we¡¯re talking about a Grade-A cursed human here. A devourer class. That isn¡¯t something that you just see everyday, especially when they jump from being a regular person to phantasm in half an hour.¡±


    ¡°Speculative,¡± Serena said. ¡°As nice as that sounds, I doubt we¡¯d get much from some teen.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m probably the same age,¡± Ern replied. ¡°And I¡¯m not useless, am I?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not a phantasm. You¡¯ve been trained to do your job since you were born, and not much else. Those are two completely different things.¡±


    ¡°Look, Boss, this is my specialty. Dealing with curses and cursed humans and whatnot. And when I tell you that she¡¯s absolutely worth investing in, I mean it. With a little bit of guidance and training, I¡¯m sure she¡¯d become useful.¡±


    ¡°At doing your job?¡± Serena asked. ¡°Why are you vouching for her, anyway? If she¡¯s capable of devouring curses, then doesn¡¯t that make you redundant?¡±


    ¡°Not if she¡¯s working specifically with the Parci Family directly,¡± Ern said. ¡°Then Boss Parci wouldn¡¯t need me. The other families would still need my services, so it wouldn¡¯t be that bad.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s an entirely selfless decision? You just want to do good for no reason?¡±


    A moment passed.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d also like to get paid for finding such a useful tool,¡± Ern slowly answered. ¡°And then there¡¯s my personal curiosity. But mostly the payment thing. You guys haven¡¯t been giving me very high paying jobs recently, so my savings account is starting to get kinda low¡­just think about it. A one time finders fee for Caitlyn here, instead of charging me whenever you need a curse exorcised. Think about it! What a deal? You really can¡¯t say that over the long term, this wouldn¡¯t pay itself off. Oh, but I haven¡¯t even told you how much I was thinking. I-¡±


    The Boss held up his hand and Ern stopped.


    ¡°Don¡¯t rush yourself into the business side of things, Ern,¡± he said, gently placing a finger over his lips. ¡°It makes you unsympathetic. So far, you¡¯ve just explained why your friend would be good for me. And I understand what you¡¯re saying. You know that we need curses exorcised, and you know that right now, we can¡¯t push our limits without having you on call. Currently, the limits of our violent activity is determined only by your availability, which is minimal enough on its own, not even considering what Fernand and Lawrence want.


    ¡°I understand it all. You¡¯ve made a very convincing argument, even if my subordinates disagree. There is value in a devourer. If you went to any other organization like ours, they¡¯d pay a premium for a phantasm like this. And I know that you, personally, would have preferred to take her under your own wing to ease your own workload. All of that knowledge is set deep within my brain, tumbling around.¡±


    Ern smiled weakly. He looked over to Caitlyn for a second, who was only still barely calming down from seeing Serena¡¯s face blossom into a dozen arms.


    ¡°What the most important thing is,¡± the Boss continued. ¡°Is not ¡®what¡¯ total good a person can do for you is. What¡¯s way more important is: what ¡®will¡¯ that person do for you? We are a criminal group, after all. Plucking a random person off the street to work for you, even if they¡¯re the best in the world, wouldn¡¯t do you much good if they don¡¯t get invested. And right now, Ms. Caitlyn Till looks like she¡¯s barely surviving through a panic attack. Even if you tell me she can do so much for us, that¡¯s only hypothetically.¡±


    The pale man stood up from his chair, letting it spin behind him, and he set his wine glass on the desk. Slowly, he walked around the table, until he was standing directly over Caitlyn. He put a hand on her head, then lowered his head and forced her to stare him directly in the eyes.


    She could smell his breath; a scent of rusty iron and mint combined. It made her eyes water.


    ¡°My apologies for not introducing myself earlier, young lady. My name is Alfonse Parci, and I run a small mafia,¡± the Boss, or Alfonse Parci said. ¡°My small little family here, excluding Ern of course, are all terrible psychos who run the underworld as a business. Drugs, prostitution, underground fights, loan sharking, and all sorts of other fun ventures. The kind of stuff that you see on crime shows. I myself have killed more people than I can remember. It¡¯s nice to meet you, Caitlyn Till. Now, introduce yourself.¡±


    ¡°I...uh, sorry, uh...I¡¯m-I mean, my name¡¯s Caitlyn. Nice to meet you. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Compared to my introduction, I feel like yours is a bit lackluster, but perhaps that¡¯s for the better,¡± Alfonse said. He let go of Caitlyn¡¯s head, but still stood before her. ¡°You have no idea what¡¯s going on, do you?¡±


    ¡°...w-what?¡±


    ¡°All of this. It makes some sense to you; I can tell. At the very least, you understand that we¡¯re criminals, and that being here is dangerous. You¡¯re perfect at imitating prey, and making yourself invisible. You almost seem to disappear if I don¡¯t pay attention to you. Not literally, of course. But even though everyone is talking about you, and your fate, you seem to have a lack of input. Why is that? Not because you don¡¯t care, nor because you¡¯re afraid. If you actually understood what was going on, you¡¯d be talking a lot more. Or, well, at least I think you would be. That¡¯s just my read.


    ¡°Knowing Markus and Ern, they probably didn¡¯t say much to you, did they? Ern thought you were interesting, like a cool new toy, and told his friend to drag you along. He¡¯s trying so hard to justify helping you here. Whether it''s for his own sake or not, he¡¯s pulling all the stops for it. But you¡¯re just quiet. And unless you talk, none of us can move forward. So, tell us what you don¡¯t understand, so that we can have an adult conversation.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°I...I don¡¯t get any of this¡­¡± Caitlyn admitted. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but what the hell are you guys talking about? That woman...sorry, I¡¯m sorry. But what¡¯s happening?¡±


    A beat as Alfonse¡¯s eye twitched.


    Then, the man burst out laughing, almost tumbling to the floor. Carmichael sauntered over to put a hand on the Boss¡¯s shoulder, steadying him, but by that point, Alfonse was back to normal.


    ¡°As I expected,¡± Alfonse said. ¡°Well, here, what about this. We can start with the really easy questions. Even someone as dumb as Markus would be able to answer them properly. First: which would you prefer? To live, or to die?¡±


    ¡°...to be alive? I guess?¡±


    ¡°Good choice. The second question is: what would you be willing to do to survive?¡±


    Caitlyn took a deep breath.


    ¡°Uh...I don¡¯t know what you want from me...sorry¡­¡±


    ¡°Nothing too dangerous, trust me,¡± Alfonse said. ¡°I take it you didn¡¯t understand anything that Ern was saying about you? The whole: cursed human, devourer, whatever thing? About exorcising curses? Actually, you probably weren¡¯t even listening, were you?¡±


    ¡°...yeah, I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s completely fine, it wouldn¡¯t make sense to expect you to. Let me just make this incredibly simple for you. Is that fine?¡±


    Caitlyn nodded hesitantly.


    ¡°You should have died tonight,¡± Alfonse started. That made Caitlyn¡¯s stomach drop. ¡°More specifically, if what Ern tells me is the truth, which I believe it is, you should¡¯ve been killed. Slaughtered like a pig, like the rest of the unfortunate souls of that tiny convenience store. But right now, you¡¯re alive. So, if you think about it, we¡¯ve in some sense saved your life. Perhaps spared is a better word, but regardless, you are only living right now because of Markus¡¯s decision. Which might as well be my own decision.


    ¡°So while it may be true that you¡¯ve been kidnapped and forced to be here, your other option would be death. This probably should speak for itself, but not a single soul in this room should ever reveal the details of what happened in that store. The mission Markus went on must stay with all of us until death, and if I learn the details have leaked, then someone will pay. And the only way I can make sure that you don¡¯t speak of them, Caitlyn, is to have control of you. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not suggesting anything too sinister. To make it simple, I just want you to join the Parci Family, and become what might be best described as a special type of cleaner.


    ¡°I won¡¯t go into the specifics of the work, because Ern knows it far better than I, but right now, there¡¯s only one way for you to keep living, and that would be to take this job. I¡¯m not an evil person; I¡¯ll pay you a fair amount. Nothing too extreme, of course, but the standard rate we¡¯d pay Ern. More than you¡¯d get at any job for high schoolers. Do you understand so far?¡±


    ¡°I...think so.¡±


    ¡°Good, good! In that case, I think you should understand the point completely, then. You¡¯ve got two choices in front of you: death, or to become my tool and work for my mafia. So please, decide right now.¡±

 Chapter 5

    --An hour later--


    That was truly one hell of a meeting. Left without any other choice, Caitlyn accepted Alfonse¡¯s demand, and shortly after was left alone in the building¡¯s foyer. There were other people in the building; frightening adults, walking around with scars and tattoos. Caitlyn didn¡¯t pay them much attention, and was surprised when she saw Ern walking over with the skinny black man. Ern had arms and legs, though after closer inspection, she noticed they weren¡¯t made of skin. Rather, the flesh was a peach colored clay that moved as though it were really one of his limbs.


    After that, the black guy introduced himself as Antione. Soon after, the three of them had driven to a nearby Italian restaurant, where the kitchen staff allowed them to sit in a spotless backroom.


    They could order anything they wanted, and even though Ern was filling himself to the brim with spaghetti, Caitlyn couldn¡¯t eat anything but a bit of salad and water. There was still so much turbulence in her brain to act properly. This was real. And she was alive. But for how long? Was she really going to be forced to work for some criminal group? What were they gonna have her do? If she did this, wasn¡¯t she just still going to die? Or see things even more horrifying than earlier?


    ¡°That¡¯s the purpose of coming here,¡± Antione said with his soothingly deep voice, as though he had read her mind. ¡°Trust me, I don¡¯t understand half this stuff either. The Boss is a vampire. There are some days where I wake up and just imagine it¡¯s all just a dream, but then I come to work and realize it¡¯s just facts. The truth is: the world is split into two halves; one that¡¯s normal, that us regular people live in, and then another half, where all the weird supernatural and occult stories you hear about exist. So just take it slow. Breathe in, breathe out. There¡¯s no point in stressing out about the details, trust me.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand it all,¡± Caitlyn said, watching Ern eat. He was supposedly a year older than Caitlyn, but he looked and acted way younger. ¡°Vampires? Magic? It seems like dungeons and dragons, or some kind of video game stuff. Weird fantasy crap.¡±


    ¡°Heh, you ain¡¯t wrong. Worst part about it all? You can¡¯t go around telling people. They¡¯d just think that you¡¯re crazy. I¡¯ve been married over ten years and my wife still doesn¡¯t know about it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re married?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Antione said. He lifted a hand up to show off his ring. ¡°Just because you¡¯re a scummy criminal doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t live a normal life. Well, I mean, I mostly do accounting and work with the public facing businesses, so I guess I¡¯m a bit privileged in that aspect, but you get what I¡¯m saying, right?¡±


    ¡°Not sure I do.¡±


    ¡°That just because this all seems so unbelievable and crazy doesn¡¯t mean the world doesn¡¯t stop spinning. That¡¯s my other job. Making sure people still have connections with real life. Probably because I¡¯m the only normal one with the Boss¡¯s favor. Ah, no offense.¡±


    ¡°Normal?¡±


    ¡°Yep. I¡¯m just a regular person. Nothing special about me, other than my incredibly mediocre cooking skills and fantastic typing speed.¡±


    ¡°How does someone like you get a job like this?¡±


    Before Antione could answer, Ern burped.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m done,¡± he said. He stretched his arms out, which seemed to be a bit too long for his body. ¡°Wait, sorry, were you guys talking about something?¡±


    Caitlyn looked at Antione, who smiled and shrugged.


    ¡°Not much,¡± Antione answered. ¡°Please, don¡¯t mind me. The Boss wanted you two to talk, right? Something like an internship of sorts? I seem to recall him deciding something along the lines of: once Ern trains the girl to do his job better than him, we can wire the money to his account. Until then, the best he gets are some arms and legs.¡±


    That was the rough outline as Caitlyn understood it. Ern was supposedly an ¡®exorcist¡¯, and Alfonse wanted her to learn how to do his job. But what that meant escaped her.


    Ern cleared his throat.


    ¡°There are five different grades of curses,¡± he started, pushing his glasses up and leaning back in his chair. The way he spoke was deliberate and scholarly, as though he were reciting things directly from a textbook. ¡°Beginning with D-Grade and then ascending all the way to S-grade. Before getting into anything else, you¡¯ll need to understand this, so please, pay attention and take notes if you need to.¡±


    He paused and squinted at Caitlyn, who hadn¡¯t moved.


    ¡°Okay, well. We¡¯ll begin with the lowest and weakest, and most pathetic grade of curse: the D-Grade curse. A D-Grade curse is going to be a D-Grade for a few reasons. First of all, they are limited in their overall hate or spite when concerning the applicability or contagiousness of the curse. In layman¡¯s terms, this means basically that the curse has an incredibly narrow focus, or is limited in a way that means it cannot possibly cause harm to anyone or anything unless they fall into a very narrow criteria attached to whatever the curse is meant to achieve.


    ¡°The other reason why you would classify something D-Grade is because it¡¯s weak and forgetful. For the most part, these are the basic everyday curses that you would see and receive if you were looking for them. Something so minor, and with little to no conviction that it barely lasts. For example: a child may curse his mother for not giving him an extra scoop of ice cream that night, but after twenty minutes when the ice cream is all finished, he¡¯ll forget entirely about it. A curse may be created in this time and applied if the son, mother, or location has an affinity for it, though the negative emotions attached to it would be so basic that they¡¯d fizzle out on their own without much interference.


    ¡°D-Grade curses, like I said, basically kill themselves off on their own really quickly. They¡¯re unsustainable and rarely cause any harm other than minor inconveniences, so to most people who want to deal with curses, D-Grade curses can be mostly ignored. You might start to notice them as your attunement with phantasms start to grow, but just ignore them. In fact, you might just exorcise them simply by being nearby, so that¡¯s fine too. Either way, you can mostly pretend they don¡¯t exist, but to get a good understanding of how curses work, you need to begin at the most basic level.¡±


    Ern was about to keep speaking, but Caitlyn raised her hand, which stopped him. He slowly blinked and pointed at her.


    ¡°Sorry, Ern,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°But I don¡¯t understand. What¡¯s a curse? Can you, like, start at an even more basic level?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it either,¡± Antione said.


    ¡°Jeeeeesus,¡± Ern said, sighing. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯ll make it even more basic. Okay! So! You probably have no idea what Od is, right?¡±


    Both Caitlyn and Antione shook their heads in the negative.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s start there. Od is the life force that flows between reality. The energy and fuel that keeps reality together, and the spark of power that keeps phantasms together. There¡¯s a lot more metaphysical junk to it, but I really don¡¯t think that matters. You get that, right?¡±


    ¡°So...it¡¯s like mana?¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Caitlyn felt a bit embarrassed at that. ¡°Like, you know. Mana from video games, or something. You know.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t play video games so I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± Ern said. ¡°But if that works for you, good on ya¡¯. Now, phantasms, like vampires and werewolves and all that jazz, live off of Od in different forms. Some of them drain it from human beings, while others receive it from the earth or other rituals. There are all sorts of ways for something to fill up on Od. But regardless, what matters is that humans produce it as well, without realizing it. And without realizing it, when someone feels extreme negative emotions, especially towards certain external targets, the Od automatically reacts and forms what you would call a curse. That should help clear things up, right?¡±


    ¡°More or less, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Good. Then let me continue with C-Grade curses. They¡¯re above D-Grade in all aspects, and while they have enough application to actually cause harm, the general qualification of a C-Grade would be that it doesn¡¯t cause enough of an inconvenience to prevent an ¡®average day for an ignorant person¡¯. That¡¯s a pretty standard term for us on this side of the veil, I imagine you know it, right Antione?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± the man said. He looked at Caitlyn to take a chance at explaining. ¡°An average day is supposed to mean a day you go through without noticing anything wrong. An ignorant person is someone who doesn¡¯t know about all this fantasy stuff. And the whole ¡®side of the veil¡¯ thing he mentioned is about the normal half and the weird half of the world.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°Or, well, it doesn¡¯t, but I think I get it. Go ahead.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh. So. Moving on, C-Grade curses are what you might expect to see in something like an old campy serial killer teen slasher horror movie. Things like Friday the Fourteenth or Screamer are good examples of what a C-Grade curse might be like.¡±


    At that moment, both Caitlyn and Antione said things at the same time.


    Caitlyn, quite loudly, said: ¡°That seems like a pretty big jump in levels of danger.¡±


    Antione, at a far lower volume, said: ¡°That¡¯s not the name of either of those movies.¡±


    Ern chose to address Antione first. ¡°Hey, look. I¡¯m not a movie nerd, okay? I don¡¯t really care about any of those old grandpa films. But yes,¡± he then responded to Caitlyn¡¯s comment. ¡°I can get how the jump between D-Grade to C-grade might seem extreme like that. But take a second and think about those examples. Who actually gets hurt and attacked in those horror movies? What circumstances could you take to avoid the dangers?


    ¡®Because I¡¯m not a movie nerd, rather, I¡¯d consider myself a movie cynic, I¡¯d say that in the movies, the only people who need to worry about those cursed monster psychos are the idiot teenages who decide to throw themselves to fate by doing weird rituals or pissing on graveyards. A C-Grade curse may be strong enough at this level to actually hurt someone, but they typically are very limited in their output. For example, if someone was bullied by a few jocks in school, the curse would only cause misfortune to those bullies a few years later when they returned to school. Or, if someone was killed in a certain spot by certain people, those few would become afflicted when they returned to the spot. You see?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯m starting to get it,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°But there¡¯s another part I want clarification on. What do you mean by causing misfortune? Or becoming afflicted?¡±


    ¡°Do I really need to cover this basic stuff?¡±


    ¡°Not everyone is as well-learned as you,¡± Antione said, rubbing his beard. ¡°Come on, out with it.¡±


    ¡°Seriously? But there¡¯s so much to cover...where do I even start?¡±


    ¡°How about with the question?¡±


    Ern sighed, but then composed himself and started the lecture again. ¡°A curse exists to cause misfortune and suffering. What the curse does can be basically anything, as long as the final result is to make more and more negative emotions. Think about it like this: first, a curse is born from the combination of someone¡¯s negative emotions and Od, which form a curse. That curse travels to a certain target (which can be a person, place, or thing), and then it¡¯ll have an effect there. The more intense the darkness of the person making the curse, the more intense the curse will be. And...wait, this is starting to get mixed up. Hold on, let me think. Uhhh...okay, hold onto any questions for a second while I just speed to the important stuff.


    ¡°So, curses don¡¯t necessarily need to come from one person. They can be kind of coagulated from different sources, and mold together.¡± As he spoke, Ern imitated packing a ball of stuff together in his hands. ¡°For example, after World War II, a ton of people were kept prisoners by the Nazis in concentration camps. This was called the Holocaust, and it was really messed up.¡±


    Caitlyn knew what the Holocaust was but didn¡¯t interupt the explanation.


    ¡°More specifically, the treatment of Jews was particularly bad. That isn¡¯t to say other people didn¡¯t get majorly screwed, but from those concentration camps, a massive curse was created. It grew and grew as people were tortured and killed, over and over, sucking up and absorbing the curses from all of the other tragedies that were happening across the planet at that time. The curse was like a plague of invisible locusts, clouds over the sky, that made soldiers go insane with rage and fight to the death. It was a massive issue at the time, and took some of the most powerful magi and inquisitors from the Holy Church to deal with it. But even today, you still hear and see vestiges of it pop up. That would be an S-Grade curse.


    ¡°And, uh, well, I sort of lost track of the question. Something about what do curses do? Well, like I was saying, they just make people suffer. D-Grade is minor, like stubbing a toe, mispelling a word, or remembering a cringy memory from years ago. The kind of thing that makes life suck just a bit, but goes away pretty quickly. You forget about it without much pain. C-Grade is where it spikes up to be more long lasting. This is also where you start seeing cursed humans, which are people who bear curses on themselves, whether that be intentional or not. These people bring negativity and sorrow to themselves and others around them. But C-Grades are so limited that it is only a big deal to some people. Another example would be a serial killer luring people into his house. There was some historical case where that happened, and when investigated later, the magi on the scene realized that a curse had formed in the house that made people more likely to be drawn in. I feel like I¡¯m getting off topic a bit, but the general gist is that if a D-Grade curse only affects one person, a C-Grade can¡¯t affect more than twenty.¡±


    ¡°That seems like a lot to me.¡±


    ¡°Is it? How many people die every day? Every minute?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Caitlyn agreed, nodding. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    Ern was ready to respond with a well-crafted argument about the fragility of human life, but her quick and agreeable response took the wind straight from his sails.


    Well¡­¡± It took him a second to recover. ¡°Okay then. Let¡¯s move to B-Grade, then. This is where you start seeing people react to the threats, and where you see exorcists start to get called in. They can affect large scales of people or places, and while they may not be incredibly dangerous, they happen frequently enough that ignorant people can start tracking them. Something like Bloody Mary, or the Bermuda Triangle. These curses draw in conspiracy and prey off of it. This level of curse doesn¡¯t target specific individuals...instead, they target the people who search them out.


    ¡°A-Grade curses are pretty rare, as you might expect. When one of these show up, they get someone called to exorcise them incredibly quickly. Why, you might ask? Usually, an A-Grade curse is reserved for three possible things: the first would be a curse that simply cannot be exorcised normally. Grudges immaterial, with shapeless forms that transcend our ability to monitor and dispose of them. They bounce from person to person and remain waiting to strike with their own levels of sentience when they believe the time is right. The only way to get rid of them is to seal them, or to make bargains with them. But these Type-I A-Grade curses are so uncommon, I¡¯ve never actually seen an example in any textbook, so it might just be theoretical.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°The second type of A-Grade curse would be one indiscriminate. They aren¡¯t as strong as the others, usually they can¡¯t do much damage, but can affect anyone and everyone, or anything. This would be where you fall in, by the way, as a devourer. That means curses are nothing but food for you, and Type-II A-Grades often end up doing more damage to curses than they do anything else, since they absorb energy but don¡¯t redirect it anywhere. Devourer is the typical name for a cursed human with this trait, and a place would be called a black hole.


    ¡°Type-III A-Grade curses are known just because of their raw destructive power. They spawn from terrorist attacks or wars and end up causing natural disasters or mass suicides. The Holy Church usually deals with these, because they¡¯re both easy to spot and exorcise as well as worth preventing.¡±


    ¡°The Holy Church?¡±


    ¡°Yes, they¡¯re not just a bunch of religious nutjobs,¡± Ern said. ¡°They¡¯re religious nutjobs who actually do something good sometimes. Their main purpose is to prevent phantasms from harming the ignorant or from breaking through the veil, and one of those tasks is dealing with the threat of curses. Oftentimes they¡¯ll just ask magi like myself to do it, but there are risks for them to do that.


    ¡°Usually, when the church deals with an exorcism, they completely obliterate the curse or try to purify it. But for magi who deal with curses, we have the messed up headspace to try and salvage the curse¡¯s remains and learn about them. Our scholarly pursuits are usually counter to what the church wants, but they¡¯re lacking in manpower. And that¡¯s pretty much where you come in.¡±


    ¡°Exorcising curses?¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Ern said, snapping his fingers. ¡°To be a cleaner for the Parci Family, specifically. Here, think about it. What happens when someone gets killed and they¡¯re angry about it? Can you guess what happens?¡±


    ¡°...do they curse someone? Make a curse?¡±


    ¡°Once again, you¡¯re exactly correct,¡± Ern replied. ¡°So, when the mafia kills someone, they hire an exorcist to rid the curse before it spreads. Because if every time you killed someone, they ended up getting automatic revenge, you wouldn¡¯t be killing many people, would you? So, what our job is, is to exorcise those people¡¯s curses after they get killed. Sounds simple, right?¡±


    ¡°But how do you exorcise something?¡±


    Ern shrugged.


    ¡°For you? I have no idea. In the books, it says devourers need to keep physical contact with the curses, but since everything I read was translated years ago, I don¡¯t actually know for sure. Just being within their proximity might also be enough. But don¡¯t worry, I know a guy, and we can figure it out tomorrow night. You¡¯re free, right?¡±


    ¡°...yes. After my homework. I didn¡¯t even finish the work I was supposed to do tonight.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s a joke, right?¡± Ern asked. He smirked. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna actually do homework, are you?¡±


    ¡°I was planning on it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea,¡± Antione said, butting in after watching the scene for so long. ¡°You¡¯re going to school then, right Caitlyn?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°What school?¡± It was Ern who asked.


    Ah, this was going to be awkward no matter what she said.


    ¡°The same one that you do,¡± Caitlyn finally decided on, trying to pick the words that would seem least passive aggressive. She didn¡¯t want to come off weird, even though she knew it would. She knew him, but he didn¡¯t know her.


    ¡°Eh, really?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Ern said, titling his head to the side. ¡°Wow, I totally don¡¯t recognize you at all. Sorry about that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, make sure that you¡¯re free tomorrow night. Before doing anything else, phantasms need to get themselves recorded. Going around without supervision by the Church is a quick way to get yourself killed.¡±


    Caitlyn nodded.


    ¡°So make sure we meet up after school tomorrow,¡± Ern said. Then, he paused for a second and pulled out a phone from his pocket and tossed it across the table. ¡°Put your contact info inside so I can reach out to you. Sound good?¡±


    ¡°...sure,¡± Caitlyn said, putting her details in the phone. It felt awkward. There were very few people in the world who had her phone number, and the only one who was male was her dad. She slid the phone over to him and turned to Antione slowly. ¡°Should I be getting yours as well?¡±


    He smiled and pulled a business card from his breast pocket.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Take this instead. Gimme a call if you need anything, and make sure you do it from a restricted number. I¡¯m trying to limit the data I keep stored as best as possible.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Caitlyn, another thing,¡± Ern said, checking his phone as he talked. ¡°What grade are you?¡±


    ¡°Sophomore.¡±


    ¡°Year under me, then. How popular would you say you are? On a scale of zero to one-hundred?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a wide range,¡± Antione muttered under his breath.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°Low?¡±


    That didn¡¯t seem like the answer Ern wanted as he frowned. ¡°No, no, no. Hmm. Lemme phrase this a different way. You don¡¯t have many friends right?¡±


    It was true, but it hurt to hear.


    ¡°That expression tells me everything I need to know,¡± Ern continued. ¡°You probably don¡¯t do much for lunch at school, either. Make sure that you¡¯re free. I¡¯m gonna introduce you to the rest of the squad.¡±


    ¡°Squad?¡±


    ***


    The two ended up talking for quite a bit longer as Antione lost focus and went to answering emails on his phone. He barely even noticed when the conversations stalled, with the two teens nodding off on the table. Ern¡¯s head was on his finished plate, but the spaghetti sauce was coating his hair. It was past midnight when one of the cooks came in to ask how much longer they planned on staying, and Antione relayed they¡¯d be leaving soon. He rustled the two awake.


    ¡°Hey, you don¡¯t mind if I drive you two home, right?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d better,¡± Ern said.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine,¡± Caitlyn said, yawning. ¡°I can walk.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re not imposing,¡± Antione said. ¡°What¡¯s the address?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright. Make sure Ern gets back.¡±


    Ern grumbled, laying his head back on the table.


    ¡°You understand how dangerous these streets are, so late at night, especially for a girl, right?¡± Antione asked. ¡°And you¡¯ve got at least a half-mile walk before hitting the edge of the residential areas. No point in calling a ride, either, since I can just take you back home right now.¡±


    ¡°Sure, but-¡±


    ¡°No buts about it,¡± he said. Antione put his arm around Ern¡¯s shoulder and heaved the boy up onto his feet, despite Ern¡¯s unintelligible complaints. ¡°You have school tomorrow. And if my gauge of you is correct, you¡¯re pretty serious about that. Don¡¯t try and act all tough and independent when someone is offering help.¡±


    ¡°How do I know you¡¯re not gonna do something weird? You could be some kind of creep.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to think I¡¯ve proven myself more than random people on the streets or random lift drivers, but maybe not. You seem to get snarky when you¡¯re tired. Is this how you normally act? Or is it because you¡¯re not as stressed anymore?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Sorry if you don¡¯t like being psychoanalysis, I didn¡¯t mean to,¡± Antione said. He was leading Ern out the door. ¡°Come on. I¡¯m not planning on leaving you to walk home. I¡¯m pretty protective of kids, you know. Got little ones of my own.¡±


    ¡°...right.¡±


    ¡°So hurry up.¡±


    Realizing she wasn¡¯t going to be able to get away without putting up a lot of fight, Caitlyn sighed and followed the two of them. Antione tossed Ern in the back seat, and the boy fell asleep almost immediately, snoring loudly. After waving to the closing staff of the restaurant, they slowly pulled out of the parking lot and got onto the highway. Having been woken up filled Caitlyn with energy, and she no longer felt tired.


    ¡°You never told me,¡± she started. ¡°Earlier, when we were talking, how you got into this business. You¡¯re a regular person, right? Like, normal?¡±


    ¡°Normal is a strange way to put it, but I guess that works,¡± Antione said. He was focused on the road. ¡°I might seem like a pretty straight and narrow fella, but that wasn¡¯t always the case. I¡¯ve done my fair share of crimes. Mostly white collar, believe it or not.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Heh. I shouldn¡¯t talk about it, but just a bit of fraud. Eventually, I was found out, but instead of the company reporting me or the IRS finding out, I was extended an invitation by the Boss...by Alfonse Parci himself. Since then, I¡¯ve been slowly getting into all this wild stuff. Honestly, at the beginning, I was pretty wilded out. Totally seemed crazy. That¡¯s why I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re taking it so well.¡±


    ¡°...I don¡¯t know if I really am¡­¡±


    ¡°Better than I did, at least,¡± Antione replied. ¡°I was married when I got this job. And let me tell you: having to keep secrets like this from my wife sucks! She¡¯s way too smart sometimes. Fortunately, as sharp as she may be, there¡¯s no way she¡¯d guess I¡¯m cleaning dirty books and running HR for a vampire mafia.¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°Whether you believe it or not, you are keeping yourself together well.¡±


    Caitlyn didn¡¯t immediately respond. Mostly because it still seemed strange. This type of fantasy stuff was completely illogical. She should be babbling at the mouth and questioning everything, but as each new fact came, it felt easy to accept.


    It made her think.


    Her mom went crazy in her mid-twenties, right after Caitlyn was four. And so did her grandmother, at roughly the same age. Did that have anything to do with this? As they drove, Caitlyn watched the scenery. It was so dark outside; darker than it should be. Was that real? The moon was gone, and dark storm clouds covered the sky, casting down lazy droplets to earth. Were the shadows at the edges of her vision just illusions, or were they something more? Did her mom go through something like this as well? Hallucinations that caused her to break down and get violent? Could she have been seeing the other side of things, but without anyone to tell her that?


    She was young when it happened, but Caitlyn could remember some things from back then. Bad things. Things she wanted to forget, but probably never could.


    That was why she could stay so calm about this. Because the alternative was far worse.


    Could she say that out loud?


    No.


    She wouldn¡¯t.


    There was nothing to complain about. This was just the true rigor of Caitlyn¡¯s mental durability. She was just ready to accept the loss of her mind, something she knew was coming since her tenth birthday. Even if this wasn¡¯t real, it was absolutely fine. If the alternative was raving at the walls and clawing her fingernails off, indulging in this fantasy was a perfectly sane thing to do. She liked it. It was kind of exciting. Like the books she read, right now, it felt like she was the main character.


    A trigger went off in her head, scolding her for thinking like that. It felt so cringe inducing. How could she feel giddy about this? People were dead. An old woman and an innocent store clerk were murdered. And Caitlyn couldn¡¯t even remember their names or faces. Not even what they sounded like. They were good people, and must¡¯ve had families. Why was it they had to die? It was unfair. She should¡¯ve been killed alongside them; her worth was so much smaller. Both of them had tried to fight back against the captors, but all Caitlyn did was sit around and wish she was dead. Even though she was the least deserving of salvation, it was granted to her. Were they cursing her from hell? Knowing what she did now, the thought made Caitlyn shiver, and when he noticed, Antione turned up the heater.


    It was a long silence.


    Caitlyn didn¡¯t even remember the question Antione had asked that got her onto this train of thought, but she knew she needed to get away from it. This kind of spiral would lead her to depression.


    Come up with something to talk about already!


    ¡°Who was that woman, earlier?¡±


    Antione wasn¡¯t expecting the non sequitur, so he started and stopped, composing himself.


    ¡°You mean Serena?¡±


    ¡°The woman with red hair and an eyepatch.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s Serena,¡± Antione answered. ¡°Though her codename is Ares. We all have these codenames we¡¯re supposed to go by in the field, since learning a person¡¯s real name could have other effects. Though not many people care anymore, supposedly it¡¯s some old tradition. Anyway, Serena is the Parci Family magus. She¡¯s sort of like Ern. A mostly normal person, except she can do magic and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Magic and stuff? That makes it sound so mundane and boring.¡±


    Antione laughed.


    ¡°Well, it sort of is. I mean, when you think of wizards, you think or something like Harry Potter or Gandalf, right? The idea of magic conjures pictures of people shooting off lightning or something in your brain. Something super fantastic. But that¡¯s not it at all, in fact, when I first learned what they did, I felt sort of let down. I don¡¯t know the full extent of Ern¡¯s magic powers, since he¡¯s not technically part of the family, but Serena builds stuff. She makes these clay soldiers. I think she called them golems. And then once she¡¯s made a bunch of them, she programs them, like computers, to make more, and then they start just building things. Weapons, for instance. We never need to purchase guns from outsiders because she can just mass produce them. And that¡¯s about it. Useful, but not flashy, or really cool.¡±


    ¡°Then what was all that with the hands coming out of her face?¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay, yeah, that was pretty freaky. I¡¯m not exactly sure the entire deal with that, but I¡¯m pretty sure she has a little robot in her eye. We went drinking with a few other people once, and she did a party trick where she removed some of her fingers. It was weird.¡±


    ¡°That does sound weird,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°What about the suit of armor?¡±


    ¡°Ah, Carmichael. He¡¯s a suit of armor.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡±


    Antione shrugged.


    ¡°That¡¯s about all I know,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m only supposed to do HR for people that have normal lives. Without a physical body, it would be pretty tough to live and pretend to be a regular person, right?¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    That seemed to be the perfect time to stop conversation, as their car pulled up right in front of a small mansion. It was dark, so Caitlyn couldn¡¯t see much of it, but from what she did see, it appeared to be in disrepair. Overgrown plants emerged from the fence wrapped around it, and one of the gargoyles by the front entrance was missing a head. The most surprising thing about seeing the mansion was when Caitlyn realized how close to her house it was, and that she¡¯d never noticed it before.


    Antione got out to help carry Ern inside, and Caitlyn turned up the radio.


    It was pretty late. Almost one o¡¯clock in the morning. It would be tough to stay awake tomorrow, and she was worried that whatever Ern had planned for afterschool would be tiring as well. Time seemed to be passing quickly as Caitlyn felt herself getting tired and slipping back into slumber, and the next moment, Antione was shaking her.


    ¡°Here, this is it, right?¡±


    Yes, this was it.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Caitlyn said, bowing slightly. She yawned. ¡°Thanks for the ride. Sorry about the trouble.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Antione replied. ¡°And remember: if you need any help, give that number on my card a call. Using a restricted number, if possible. Anyway, stay safe, you hear?¡±


    Caitlyn nodded again as she left the car, then crossed the driveway to her house.


    It was embarrassing to come home.


    She lived alone with her father, and his job wasn¡¯t great. Their house was in a different sort of debauchery than Ern¡¯s. Paint chipping off the wood. A crack on the front window. Muddy grass instead of a lawn, like the neighbor¡¯s. Because she didn¡¯t have a key to the front door, Caitlyn undid the lock on the side fence and went into the backyard, and once she was out of vision, she heard Antione drive away. It made sense for him to be nice, but Caitlyn didn¡¯t like it. Made her uncomfortable.


    She reached under a fake rock to grab a key, which she took to the front door. It was important to stay quiet. Her father wasn¡¯t home when she left, but as she pushed the gate open, she could hear his snoring and the sound of static on the television, and the smell of alcohol and vomit assailed her. He worked long days, then went drinking with his friends. It was normal.


    Letting her eyes adjust to the dark, Caitlyn stepped over beer bottles and made her way to the back door, where she replaced the spare key. After, she returned to her room, and slumped down on her bed. Too much had happened, and now that she was finally returned to comfort, Caitlyn passed out almost immediately.


    ***


    --After the meeting of Caitlyn, Ern, and the Boss--


    ¡°Please, do come in.¡±


    The outside doors of Alfonse Parci¡¯s room slowly opened, and a man wrapped entirely in red bandages took a step inside. It would be almost impossible for a normal person to see, but to the vampire eyes in Alfonse¡¯s skull, he could easily see the wilted grey flesh hidden underneath those red bandages. A ghoul. Heh. The vampire''s most pathetic cousin, the third wheel to the hematophage classification. A creature that only eats dead flesh. But expressing contempt for this lesser wouldn¡¯t do him much good, so he just smiled.


    ¡°Argyle, correct?¡±


    When the man wrapped with red spoke, his voice quivered. Not from fear, but from pain. As though he were in the middle of being tortured.


    ¡°Y-yes...tha-that¡¯s-s mee¡­¡± He gasped before continuing. ¡°A-as pe-per...ord-ers, I...I bro-bro-brought the...the book. Clea...ned the sc-scene. And...bod-bodies. The...cr...crime l-l-looks...normal¡­¡±


    Good lord. Heaven¡¯s almighty, Alfonse wanted to destroy this inferior creature. Even little humans like Antione were better than these blights. It was almost embarrassing listening to the creature splutter those words out, but despite his dislike of Argyle, Alfonse couldn¡¯t help but appreciate the work it did.


    In Argyle¡¯s hands was a grocery bag, and the man set it down on the floor before bowing.


    ¡°T-th-then...my...my mas-ter sends-s his...re...rega...gards¡­¡±


    ¡°And send him mine as well,¡± Alfonse said, waving his hand. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see him at our next meeting. So far, everything is progressing according to plan. Tell him that, will you.¡±


    A short while after, the ghoul was gone, and Alfonse was once again alone, save for Carmichael, who stood silently by the liquor cabinet. In the crime boss¡¯s hands was a thick leather tome, bound in what felt like flesh, and penned with blood. The raw energy the book emitted was stronger than anything Alfonse had ever felt, and it got his dead blood flowing. He hadn¡¯t felt stimulation like this in over fifty years, since he first fought Fernand for the first time. The gears were starting to spin.


    ¡°Carmichael.¡±


    ¡°Yes, master?¡±


    ¡°Go and fetch Serena. I need her to translate this.¡±

 Chapter 5.5: Side Story

    --Two hours after the robbery--


    The two were referred to as the Eyes and the Hands.


    Deborah Whitefield and Louis Perosa were partners, professional detectives for the Seattle Police Department Special Investigations Department. They were called to action when bizarre cases appeared, or when crimes seemed impossible to solve. To colleagues, they appeared as a step above the regular detectives, but below the FBI.


    Louis, wearing his classic shoddy black suit and jacket arrived on the scene about half an hour after his partner had. It was pretty late at night, and when they got the call, Deb asked him to fetch some coffee, which was totally fine with him. The crime scene was pretty far from his house in the first place, and he was just about to go to sleep before the call came in. His presence wouldn¡¯t be missed at first, since Deb handled almost all of the crime scene analytics. Him being there was pointless until she finished seeing all the evidence.


    He stopped his car in the parking lot of the convenience store, outside of the yellow tape meant to fence off onlookers. After flashing his badge to the officers blocking the view, he took a casual stroll to the building.


    The forensic people directed him to the backroom, where the security cameras fed to.


    Sitting on a stool by the CRT televisions was his partner, wearing heavy sweats. She looked dangerously thin, and her messy tangled hair covered the top half of her face. Louis handed her the coffee he picked up and gave her a silent nod.


    She didn¡¯t even look at him before starting to explain what she found.


    ¡°Exactly when the security system goes to eight twenty-five, the feed freezes for about twenty minutes. As you can see,¡± Deb said, clicking through and manipulating the keyboard attached to the server. ¡°While the people inside are still moving slightly during those twenty minutes, you can tell that there¡¯s a loop.¡±


    She ran through the recording a few times, tapping places with her pen for Louis to take note of. ¡°The way the headlights from cars passing by are constant. Look...there, there, and there. Always the same lights, the same size, and the same time. I¡¯m certain the loop is about seven seconds long, pulled from when the victims were all stationary or doing simple movements. This old lady, for example, is looking between two cartons of juice. For over twenty minutes. It¡¯s highly unlikely someone would be that indecisive. The cashier also spent the entire time looking at the same images on his phone. You can¡¯t tell what he¡¯s looking at due to the pixelization, but they¡¯re all roughly the same.


    ¡°The security system is not very complicated, but still, editing this type of thing on the fly would be incredibly difficult. I don¡¯t see anything that looks like tampering, but it is possible that someone could have come in and gone through the footage to find something that stuck really quickly and were just fortunate to find an almost perfect loop.


    ¡°Immediately after the security feed hits eight forty-five, the image breaks into the display outside. Incidentally, about two minutes later, another car pulled into the store¡¯s parking lot, and the witness who called the police entered. We¡¯ve already pulled them for questioning, and I¡¯ve probed them. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s likely they were here beforehand, but we can always bring them back again for you to talk to.¡±


    Deb paused, waiting for Louis to ask questions or make deductions, should he have any. Instead, he was biting on his fingers while his eyes twitched. A sign for her to continue.


    ¡°The victims have all been identified. Barbara S. Greenwood, Edward N. Wright, Franklin Mendez, Jacob Reed, Finn Lemon, and Bruce Whitaker. The body of the girl who was captured in the footage was not found, nor were we able to identify her from any angles provided on the security film. We checked the transactions made on the register, but there weren¡¯t any that fit within that twenty minutes time frame.There didn¡¯t seem to be any other evidence of her left behind at the scene, so we¡¯re waiting to see if a missing persons report comes in matching her description.


    ¡°Four of them were wearing masks and carrying weapons: Franklin, Jacob, Finn, and Bruce. They were also dressed in heavy sweats and using gloves. It appears they took time to try and cover their appearance to not be caught. We found some basic things in their pockets, but no wallets, however, Jacob has a pair of car keys. Someone went out and tested the electronic unlock function, and found a van with a false license plate parked about a block away. The car is registered to a man who died four years ago. A safe in the back was open, and the contents all seem to be in a bag at Jacob¡¯s side. The store manager confirmed nothing else was missing when we had them look.


    ¡°Starting from the top with the victims, Barbara is a local aging widow. She has some family in the state, but none in the city. She seemed to die from internal bleeding, due to multiple interior abrasions; she was probably beaten or clubbed to death. Her body was covered in bruises, particularly her face and back. We also discovered a revolver on the ground near her, which was registered under the name of her late husband. Firearm residue appeared on her palm, indicating she fired the weapon, and we were able to find the bullet lodged in the wall opposite where her body was found.


    ¡°Edward was the cashier, and it appears he¡¯s only been working here for two months. There are bruises on his wrists, arms, and body, indicating he was tied up and beaten. He seems to have been stabbed multiple times in the face and chest, resulting in severe blood loss. The murder weapon is suspected to be the bloody knife we found next to him.


    ¡°Franklin is a repeat offender, who wore a gorilla mask. He was in juvie when he was younger and spent two years in jail. Recently, he was supposed to be on parole, but has been missing. We¡¯ve identified him as the one who attacked Barbara and killed her. He seemed to have had his neck broken, then his leg was...sawed off at around the knee.


    ¡°Jacob, the one wearing a cartoon character mask, was shot once in the chest and almost instantly killed when it punctured his heart. It appears that he was shot by Finn, who was wearing a fish mask. Jacob was not killed fast enough however to take a few shots of his own; he fired twice and blew out Finn¡¯s knee as well as hitting him in the shoulder. The blood loss from that was enough to kill him within a few minutes.


    ¡°The final victim was Bruce, a Seattle Native. He had warrants out for his arrest for theft already, and here, he was wearing a golf-ball mask. It looks like someone attacked him with a blunt weapon and cracked the back of his skull, putting his death as blunt force trauma. Due to the scene being in a relatively public location, the forensics team has had an incredibly difficult time finding things like fingerprints or other DNA samples.¡±


    After giving the entire explanation of the crime scene, Deb held her hand out like she was holding a tennis ball, then hefted it into the air. As the imaginary ball fell, she swung, knocking it into Louis¡¯s court. That was a sort of game they played. Because of the vast differences in how their brains functioned, they needed to have strict rules for communication, and this was one of them. When you passed the ball, you could no longer speak. No matter what, you couldn¡¯t say something unless it was returned to you.


    Louis caught the ball.


    He spoke slowly, as though deliberating every word, because he truly was.


    ¡°First, I¡¯m going to speak about the most basic assumptions I have, then work up. These four masked men, from what I can tell, had met and become allies. I¡¯m almost absolutely certain they were working together. With all of the possible avenues for crime in town, I can¡¯t imagine it would be very difficult for them to be part of a gang, or just be independent and brought together. This wasn¡¯t some random situation where they met up and fought each other. If they were all wearing matching clothes and masks, they were allies. It¡¯s possible they got friendly with an employee, or have a friend who worked here in the past, who they asked about the security cameras and store hours. There¡¯s also the possibility these four men were working with another accomplice, but I¡¯ll go over that later as I build up this theory.


    ¡°The crime should have gone off without a hitch. They bust into the store, guns forward, and intimidate everyone inside to getting down. They tie them up or keep guns on them. Well, they didn¡¯t tie up the old lady, since she proved them wrong by pulling out a gun and shooting it. It didn¡¯t seem like she hit anyone, right?¡±


    Deb nodded.


    ¡°So either she shot and missed, or she pulled the gun out and someone grabbed it and moved the barrel before it could hit anyone. After that, the one guy went into a rage and beat her to death. Or at least close enough. After doing that, the four realized that committing murder would increase the severity of the crime, so they decide to just remove any witnesses, stabbing the cashier to death after. I¡¯m pretty confident that¡¯s what happened so far. But after this point, things become cloudy. Two immediate puzzle pieces appear in my mind.


    ¡°The first has to do with the missing woman. It¡¯s possible to suspect that she was just forced into being a hostage like the other two in this situation, but couldn¡¯t it also be the case that she was involved? How would the robbers know when to attack? A possible theory would be that the Jane Doe was a participant in the crime as well. She could have sent them a message and told them when to do it, sitting on the sidelines and giving them advice throughout. It¡¯s impossible to say that she ran away, because if she did, she¡¯d have called the police.


    ¡°While there''s definitely only a single Jane Doe in our first scenario, the second puzzle piece complicates the ordeal with it being any number of possible John Does. Looking at everything, I can envision a few ways of this playing out. Among them, the most likely is the inclusion of another gang of robbers hit them at the same time. With the amount of gang-related crime currently in the city, I wouldn¡¯t find it unlikely for another group to stalk this one and attack them, though during the middle of a robbery seems extreme. It might explain the leg sawing, which could be torture, perhaps, and it would also make sense that if the Jane Doe was affiliated with another group, she might call them over to attack these guys.


    ¡°It could also just be that another person came at roughly the same time, or after everything happened. Because something to consider is: why did these men shoot each other? They were most certainly working together, according to the evidence we have, but in the end, two of them shot each other. Well, that¡¯s not necessarily certain. As easy as it might be to say they had a disagreement and shot each other, there¡¯s also the possibility that someone or some people entered and shot them, then planted the guns in their hands. However, my guess would be we already tested to make sure the firearm residue was on their hands and gloves, since you told me with certainty that they shot each other, but then on the other hand, if someone else came in and was wearing those gloves, couldn¡¯t they have just swapped them out? Ah, hold on, I¡¯m starting to lose myself¡­¡±


    Deb kept completely quiet as Louis started doing his deep breaths. Each of them were incredibly potent at certain things, and for Louis, it was his incredibly vivid imagination. He could take a single data point and extrapolate an immense amount of information and create insane theories off of it, but as a downside, he often made them over complicated and got lost in the weeds. His intuition was usually pretty good, but there were times when he went too far. Very rarely, Deb would need to step in and calm him, but right now, he seemed to be able to compose himself.


    ¡°It feels to me like someone was altering evidence,¡± Louis said, rubbing his temples. ¡°Things aren¡¯t adding up. This was planned beforehand, evidenced by the missing footage. Unless a manager or someone was waiting until after the crime went down to alter the video evidence, but they weren¡¯t seen leaving. There¡¯s only one way out of this backroom, right? Do the cameras cover it?¡±


    Again, Deb nodded. She clicked twice to display the camera outside of the managers room.


    ¡°There¡¯s also the swapped guns, and the missing leg. The missing girl, and the inclusion of whoever came afterwards to alter things. So many questions...too many to work with. We need to take a bigger look. That¡¯s all I¡¯ve got.¡±


    ***


    --An hour and a half later--


    Officer Jake Bambi was sitting at his desk in silence as two detectives were across from him. He knew them both by reputation, but had never seen them before in person, and just by hearing their nicknames, he felt sweat bead up on his back. It was difficult to tell which person unnerved him more. The Hands, Louis Perosa, was tall and lanky with olive skin and a thin beard. His suit was immaculate, something far more expensive than any normal detective would be able to afford to wear on the streets. The man¡¯s eyes were hazy and unfocused, as though he weren¡¯t paying attention to what was in front of him. The Eyes, Deborah Whitefield, on the other hand, was a small woman bundled up in sweats and with her face mostly covered by a scarf. As per her namesake, her bright green eyes were terrifying. Every time Bambi moved an inch, she spotted it. The slightest movement of his finger was picked up by her, and rumors around the precinct claimed that when she saw something, it wasn¡¯t forgotten.


    The fact that these two were asking him questions directly about what happened tonight made him worried. He had one job: misleading the police. There were other dirty cops. The force was full of them, though none of them knew each other. It was kept a secret. But these two were definitely not corrupt.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Bambi repeated, doing his best to keep his voice steady. ¡°We received a call that I investigated around eight forty-five. A man was calling from a payphone, saying that he saw what looked like a kidnapping. When we asked for his name and for him to stay on the call, he hung up. We identified that the call came from a payphone in the nearby area, but figured it was probably just a prank. Not really uncommon, these days. I mean, you don¡¯t need to pay for emergency calls, and if you wear a hoodie, it¡¯s almost impossible to catch someone on camera. My guess would be most payphones are only used for police prank calls.


    ¡°But still, I went to investigate. I drove around the streets and down the ones he mentioned. I even hopped out of the car to run around a bit and ask some pedestrians if they¡¯d seen anything, but I only got blank stares and no answers. Because we didn¡¯t get any emergency calls until a bit later, I was on my return to the station when I heard about the convenience store. It didn¡¯t seem to me like they were linked, even now, and at the time, even though I was in the area, I didn¡¯t hear or notice anything about the convenience store.¡±


    Hopefully that covered all the bases. He wasn¡¯t sure exactly what the dashcam recorded on his car, but he wasn¡¯t wearing a bodycam at the time, so none of his conversation should have been copied. Playing his ignorance up was the easiest thing to do. All he needed to do was seem incompetent enough that they overlooked him. Was it possible?


    Retrospectively, it was a good thing he didn¡¯t ask more questions about what Markus and Ern were doing. There was some relation to the murders at the convenience store, but he didn¡¯t know the exact extent. And when he was set up to guard the perimeter, he didn¡¯t notice anything out of place. The Parci Family must have sent someone to tidy the scene up for the ignorant police. The weight on his shoulders was to direct the investigation away from the unspeakable truth.


    The Eyes leant over her chair, beckoning to the Hands, who folded over so she could whisper into his ear. He nodded quickly, taking in her deductions and making his own calculations and opinions. Bambi watched the man¡¯s eyes come into focus.


    ¡°A few questions,¡± Detective Louis Perosa started. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Bambi did mind, but admitting so would spell his doom. ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    ¡°You said you questioned pedestrians about whether they had seen anything on the streets?¡±


    ¡°Yep. They didn¡¯t see anything.¡±


    ¡°What exactly did they say? You have their statements written down, I presume?¡±


    Bambi gave a timid and awkward smile outwardly while inwardly he was screaming. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. They were all saying the same thing, so I didn¡¯t bother writing any of it down. Sorry, I¡¯ll admit that it was a mistake on my part, but at the time, I really believed it was just a prank phone call and that I was wasting my time.¡±


    ¡°Did you collect their names and contact information?¡±


    Fuck.


    ¡°...¡±


    Bambi thought for what felt like a few moments too long.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he eventually said, sighing. ¡°Didn¡¯t get those either.¡±


    ¡°Not even their names? You didn¡¯t ask for their names?¡±


    ¡°Er...I got their names,¡± Bambi said. ¡°They were just some old housewives from the neighborhood walking their dogs. It was...Mary and Erin, I believe. Something like that.¡±


    ¡°Last names?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t remember. Again, sorry. I really didn¡¯t want to bother them, you know? It was late, and if some middle-aged women see an officer walking around, they might get worried. I didn¡¯t want to spook them.¡±


    That was probably good.


    It had to be good. Fuck. If Bambi had known that the two most impressive detectives on this side of the state were going to be asking him questions, he would¡¯ve come up with a better story. Making things up on the fly was causing his head to spin, and trying to look normal during this was taking a toll on his body.


    Louis looked at him for a second as Deb whispered into his ear.


    Then frowned.


    ¡°They were all housewives you said? And they were all walking their dogs at the same time? Does that mean these two women were walking their dogs together? Or were these separate encounters, both being women walking dogs? And how many dogs per each of them?¡±


    ¡°...well,¡± Bambi said. Fuck. He felt sweat form on his forehead, but he knew it could look bad if he wiped it off, since the air conditioning was cool inside the building. He tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows so hopefully it would roll to the side of his head. ¡°The old ladies were walking together. They knew each other. Just one dog each. I don¡¯t remember what type of dog they had. They seemed like friends.¡±


    ¡°Did they seem like they came from a dog park?¡±


    ¡°Umm...I¡¯m not sure. I didn¡¯t ask. But maybe.¡±


    ¡°Officer, I don¡¯t want you to take offense when I say this,¡± Louis started, looking away from. ¡°But are you lying to me?¡±


    Ah¡­


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Earlier, you said you spoke to some pedestrians, but now, you¡¯re telling me it was just two women walking their dogs. Does it really make sense to refer to two people as ¡®some pedestrians¡¯? Now I¡¯m no mind reader, but with the way you¡¯re speaking and acting, it obviously seems like you¡¯re trying to be evasive with your answers. Honestly, it seems to me like you lied about everything just now. Can you give some kind of defense for yourself?¡±


    That was far too blunt of an accusation. The Hands didn¡¯t even use a bit of tact as he laid out the claim, which caught Bambi like a gut punch.


    ¡°Ah...you see¡­¡± Bambi had little in the way of defense. At this point, the best thing he could do was to admit it. It was impossible to bluff his way out of this. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re right. I was lying. I faked everything and didn¡¯t talk to anyone.¡± If he lost his job here, what would happen to him?


    Louis nodded.


    ¡°You faked everything? Right, that¡¯s because you never actually check the area out, right? I can picture it now: you heard the call, and before even leaving, you decided that it wasn¡¯t worth your time. Before even driving out to take a look, it already seemed like a waste of time. So, you leisurely cruised through the area, then did your best to make it look like you were working hard. You came up with some false claims to back your story up. Once the call came in about the convenience store, it probably sprung into your mind that the emergency call was real, but you couldn¡¯t just admit you weren¡¯t taking your job seriously. To keep yourself from being punished, you kept to your story and continued lying. Please, correct me if I¡¯m wrong about any of this.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re,¡± Bambi started. ¡°Not wrong. That¡¯s absolutely correct. Sorry, you saw right through me. I won¡¯t ever do it again. Please, don¡¯t tell anyone.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, man,¡± Louis said, standing up and reaching over to clap Bambi on the shoulder. ¡°I get it. Checking on stupid calls at night sucks. I used to be in your spot, and I¡¯d be lying if I said I never did the same. But you gotta keep yourself focused, man. Anyway, clean your report up, just so that nobody else notices.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Right¡­¡±


    ¡°And was there anything else you wanted to say? Anything else you noticed, that might help us out with the investigation?¡±


    Bambi scratched his chin for a few seconds, pretending to be thoughtful.


    ¡°No, sorry. I got nothing. But thank you.¡±


    ¡°Have a good night.¡±


    Then the two left.


    It was as though he had been underwater the entire time, and Bambi was finally bursting through the surface to breathe. He felt his body shake, and he shivered. Damn. He was cold and covered in sweat. That was far more intimidating than it needed to be. Not as scary as talking to Alfonse Parci, but close. In a different way. To lie to the Parci Boss meant you were going to die. To lie to either of these meant you could spend your life in prison.


    Knowing that he was safe, Bambi let out a sigh.


    How the hell had that worked?


    I guess there are some perks to being seen as a wimp, he thought. And some perks to being seen as a deadbeat. They did most of the work for me, in the end. Jesus Christ.


    For once in his life, Bambi felt like he finally caught a break.


    ***


    ¡°He was lying, you know.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Louis said. ¡°I know. Even if I can¡¯t read people like you can, I could guess he wasn¡¯t telling us something. What did you get from him?¡±


    They were driving, slowly, to a nearby twenty-four-seven coffee drive-thru.


    ¡°Other than his incredible relief when you gave him an easy out?¡±


    Louis gave her a thumbs up.


    ¡°When you asked him to give you the names of the people he was talking to, he put thought into it. A brief moment where he had to come up with names. Inspiration. Then, when he started answering, he dragged on his speech to come up with them. He also tried to stay as vague as possible describing them, bouncing between housewife, middle-aged woman, and just old ladies. It was inconsistent, like he had no clear mental image. Then when you asked him about their last names, he panicked. It¡¯d be obvious protocol to take their full names, so not having any last names to give would make him look suspicious. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m wondering why he even brought up that he talked to anyone at all. Just saying he drove through the area without seeing anyone or anything would¡¯ve done the same job.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Good point. He¡¯s stupid, that¡¯s why.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the reason.¡±


    Deb raised an eyebrow. Louis didn¡¯t notice, however. He was the one driving, and it took all his attention to do so. Because his mind tended to wander, he¡¯d already been in two accidents so far this year. Deb, on the other hand, was in three. They were both very, very bad drivers.


    ¡°I think he really did talk to somebody,¡± Louis continued. ¡°He was driving around and saw somebody, then talked to them. We don¡¯t have any footage from the car yet, right?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°If you could check that eventually, it¡¯d be great. But my thoughts so far are this: when he went to go check out the area, he saw someone, or something. But he couldn¡¯t admit it. Why?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Louis didn¡¯t answer immediately. It was hard to use his hands to form an idea when they were glued to the steering wheel. Before planning out this next tangent, one that felt so nearly formed in his mind, he wanted to breach other ideas.


    ¡°If you were making up someone¡¯s name at random,¡± Louis started. ¡°Trying to call them someone else, how would you do it?¡±


    ¡°Pick letters at random. Utnjlae Qpiac.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Louis said. ¡°No. Sorry. The correct answer, or what most people would do, is to pick something similar. If you were trying to disguise someone by calling them a fake name, how could you come up with one and remember it easy? For most people, the easiest way would be to call them something similar. It¡¯d be like if you asked someone who their favorite movie actress is. They¡¯d most likely just answer with the first person they thought of. When it comes to situations like that, especially under duress, the human brain will try to take shortcuts.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense,¡± Deb said. ¡°In that case, you think that if he actually met someone, they¡¯d have similar names to the ones he gave?¡±


    ¡°If he did¡­¡±


    They paused the conversation as they came to the drive-thru and ordered. After doing so, they parked to continue talking.


    ¡°The transcript of the nine-one-one call claimed they saw an African American man doing the kidnapping, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then later, if you wouldn¡¯t mind, could you check to see if you can find a list of people with names similar to Erin and Mary, that are black dudes?¡±


    Deb gave a thumbs up. Such a task would be impossible for most normal people, but to her, it was just another Tuesday.


    ¡°So,¡± she said, changing the topic. ¡°What were you thinking about earlier?¡±


    ¡°About...?¡±


    Louis had a poor memory. He could grapple with things on an immediate basis, but holding onto that information was difficult for him. There were times where he¡¯d even forget who he was talking to during a conversation. Fortunately, he could usually reconstruct his thinking when it came to complex plots or theories.


    ¡°Why Officer Bambi lied to us.¡±


    ¡°Ah! Right! Okay, so, I¡¯m actually not totally sure,¡± Louis replied. ¡°Do you think he was falling for the bluff I was making? The easy out?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Without a doubt. However, he seemed to be pretty tired. Before we talked to him, I checked his work schedule, and it looks like he¡¯s been working for quite a while. His shift was supposed to be over before we talked to him. Earlier, you were saying you thought he was defending someone. If he was, he¡¯s probably going to be paranoid about talking to us. When he wakes up tomorrow and thinks about it, he might realize you tricked him. Are you really not sure why he lied?¡±


    ¡°I have some suspicions,¡± Louis said. ¡°But nothing confirmed. Anyway, gimme a sec. I¡¯ve got a missed call here.¡±


    Apparently, they¡¯d found something quite interesting while searching the van used in the convenience store robbery.


    ***


    --A little after one in the morning--


    ¡°Where the hell are they?¡± Ark asked.


    He was pacing, swapping between staring at his watch and the rusty metal door to the abandoned warehouse they agreed to meet in. Bundled in a neon colorful windbreaker with pink, light blue and lime, he looked completely out of place with thedirty set of industrial wreckage.


    Sitting on one of those dysfunctional pieces of machinery was a semi-translucent girl, wearing a chinese dress. Her actual appearance was inconsistent; one second, she had a frail and soft face with silver hair, then another she was sharp and had a black bob. The only constant were the two black eyes, which were currently watching Ark sweat.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting too worked up. What¡¯re you so worried about?¡±


    ¡°Bruce isn¡¯t the type of guy to hang out or do something stupid after a job. Trust me, I know him well enough, and he¡¯s way too uptight,¡± Ark said. ¡°You know they were supposed to be back at midnight. You know that the job was supposed to be finished way earlier, but at the latest, they were supposed to be here by twelve.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s long past twelve,¡± she said. ¡°If you think something¡¯s wrong, just admit you¡¯re pathetic and give up. Don¡¯t you have confidence in yourself?¡±


    ¡°I do have confidence in myself,¡± Ark said between gritted teeth. ¡°But just because you have a good plan doesn¡¯t mean everything works out in the end. They aren¡¯t here, and they haven¡¯t even called me. What the hell is happening? I mean, why wouldn¡¯t they just call if something happened?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps they decided to take the money and run?¡±


    ¡°No, I doubt it. We both know that what we were stealing was worth way more than what they¡¯d find in that safe,¡± Ark said. The job was illogical to him in the first place, but it paid well, and he wasn¡¯t just going to not take it. He needed to climb the ranks somehow, but he didn¡¯t have anything other than a few crook friends. ¡°And Bruce wouldn¡¯t do that. He¡¯s too cool for that.¡±


    ¡°Maybe running was the wrong choice of words,¡± the woman muttered, then took a second to consider which words might grate against Ark the most. ¡°Betrayal is far more fitting, I think. If they realized how much they could get by auctioning off the goods, or whatever, to one of the other families, or decided they could just turn you in for money, why wouldn¡¯t they just do that instead? Far less risk, plus they get to remove you from the cut. I mean, you¡¯re the only one who didn¡¯t go along with them. Maybe they realized you were exploiting them and decided to take revenge?¡±


    That was a thought Ark didn¡¯t want to consider. Bruce and Jacob were both his friends, and they¡¯d worked together before. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t do that, no matter what you say. I trust them.¡±


    ¡°Still less risky,¡± she said, shrugging. ¡°Not everyone cares about loyalty as much as you. It¡¯s why you fail constantly. I think they definitely abandoned you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe it.¡±


    ¡°Suit yourself. Pretending it won¡¯t happen will just make it more painful when you end up getting stabbed in the back.¡±


    ¡°If anyone ends up stabbing me in the back,¡± Ark said. ¡°Won¡¯t it be you?¡±


    Cher smiled.


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± she said. ¡°I told you when we first met, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    The sounds of cars passing outside on the highway was infrequent. Lights flickered through the windows on the roof of the warehouse, filtering down across the various pieces of machinery, causing shadows to dance across the ceiling and walls like fiends at a party. Ark had to force himself to smoke and calm his nerves down; even then, his hands were overcome by incessant twitching he couldn¡¯t abate. The remedy, he found, was shoving them as hard as possible into his jacket pockets.


    He noticed that Cher noticed him. She gave him a look of mock disgust and laughed. A guardian angel he had once thought. A guardian angel, he had prayed for. But she was more like a devil in disguise, bringing him success at the cost of happiness. Even with victory, she promised ruin for him in the future.


    Like the idiot, he believed when they first met that he was unique. Special. He thought he would be able to carve out a place for himself, and climb the ladder. Cher was supposed to guide him there, or so he thought.


    A light flashed a little too close to the warehouse, drawing Ark¡¯s attention. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Do you want me to tell you? Being surprised might be more fun, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ark answered. ¡°Just tell me.¡±


    ¡°Bo~ring,¡± Cher said, stretching the word out as she did so to her own body, leaning back to recline on the conveyor belt. ¡°Heh. You¡¯re definitely not going to like this.¡±


    ¡°Please, just tell me what it is?¡±


    ¡°Looks like fourteen cop cars. They¡¯re approaching the building with their lights off, and they¡¯re pretty close. I¡¯d say you¡¯ve got about two and a half minutes before they burst in here guns blazing.¡±


    Ark twitched.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I told you that you were gonna get betrayed, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he responded. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. This has to be for something else¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cher said. ¡°You might be right. I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯m going to hide.¡±


    ¡°Help me?¡±


    She chuckled and vanished into thin air.


    ***


    ¡°This was where the note said they were supposed to meet up,¡± Louis said, opening the car door for Deb, who had a space blanket wrapped around herself. ¡°Whether that¡¯s something serious or not, I¡¯ve got no idea. It could be planted by anyone, intending on throwing us off their scent.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. But people have been coming in and out recently,¡± Deb replied, teeth chattering. ¡°This is an abandoned facility, but there are still cigarette butts outside. Someone has been here in the past day..¡±


    ¡°How recent?¡±


    ¡°They look clean, so probably within a few hours. I can¡¯t smell any smoke, so it had to have been before the rain. It stopped raining about an hour ago.¡±


    Louis pondered. ¡°If we were being set up to come here, then wouldn¡¯t it make sense for someone to be waiting? I can think of some reasons why they wouldn¡¯t be...but it still seems strange.¡±


    ¡°Nothing concrete?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s go take a better look. I¡¯ll keep thinking.¡±


    The squad of officers who the two detectives had followed to the abandoned construction warehouse had crept up to the building without flashing any lights. They were armed and prepared to enter, waiting on the command.


    After getting confirmation from Louis, the commanding officer signaled his underlings to advance, which they did. It was a loud operation, done by kicking down doors and screaming, flashing lights and banging things together with guns drawn and primed. Barbaric and bloody behavior by the police, who were expecting to get in a fight with another gang. It was a good thing no residential areas were nearby, because they would¡¯ve certainly complained about the racket being caused in the middle of the night.


    Like roaches, the officers and their dogs scoured the entire building, taking the good portion of an hour to finally complete their rounds. When they were certain the facility was combed to death, Deb and Louis were invited inside to investigate safely. Good timing, as well, because clouds were starting to come together again in the sky.


    There was no need for Louis to investigate, so he just took a seat in the manager¡¯s booth, a metal building that overlooked the entire factory from above. It was dusty and filled with broken glass, but a single stool stood in the center of the room, and Louis felt the need to sit. Deb had her own entourage of officers following her around, each hoping to prove their skills by providing assistance, or hoping to glean some insight from her to improve their own skills, as if it were a learned trick. Louis watched and considered the things he knew so far.


    They knew there were a few things guaranteed.


    Four men held up a convenience store earlier tonight, bringing with them guns and stealing a fat stash of cash from the register and safe in the backroom. However, during the robbery, each of the four men died, either killed by what appeared to be their own guns, or from violent blunt force trauma. There were other victims, who appeared to have been killed by the robbers.


    All of the security footage had been tampered with, and the quick reports coming in claimed that the forensic evidence also seemed to have been messed with as well. Some unknown pollutant was mixed in with the blood, making it difficult to send for identification. There must have been more people.


    But the question was:


    Who?


    It was possible that more than four people tried breaking into the store. The dead might¡¯ve been betrayed by their companions, or by someone entering after they did. There was also the mysterious Jane Doe, who seemed to simply float in the scene like an enigmatic phantom. What happened to her? Nobody had come up missing, and nobody like her had called the police. So was she kidnapped by the other unknown visitors? Or was she an accomplice...perhaps even the one who killed those four men? It seemed unlikely, but it could¡¯ve been possible.


    And another thing to consider:


    Why did they have a note to meet here tucked away in their van?


    It was just an address and a time, but the intention seemed obvious. It was a meeting point, or a drop-off. The time was specified as midnight, and they were certainly long past then, but it still seemed strange. Why did they have that? Was it a ruse, meant to throw them off? But if it was, what was the point?


    But what if this was an attempt to instill conflict?


    Two seperate criminal groups, both competing against each other, got into a scuffle at the convenience store. The girl could¡¯ve been part of it, or just a bystander who got abducted. When Gang A started the robbery, Gang B showed up unannounced and killed everyone in Gang A, cleaning up their mess and framing everything as if Gang A committed the crime. Leaving evidence to meet here could also be another part of the frame; sending the police to an abandoned area where that gang normally met to scare them off and possibly misdirect their thoughts.


    If a leader or lookout member of Gang A were to see a bunch of officers swarm their hideout, could it be possible they suspected the betrayal of their robbers? If Gang B wanted Gang A to sweat and destroy themselves from the inside, directing the police here would be a good way to mix everything up.


    Louis would need to tell everything about this to Deb soon, lest he forget the threads of ideas he had woven together. He flashed his light towards her, and soon she arrived in the overlooking manager¡¯s room.


    He explained his thoughts quickly and concisely while she stood in silence, recording every word. Once he hit the imaginary tennis ball her way, she began her own summary of the investigation.


    ***


    Ark managed to hide himself in a vent that had collapsed long ago. There was no escaping from the police here, and because he didn¡¯t have any idea what was going on, the worry of being caught overrode any idea that they might not¡¯ve been here for him. Upon learning they were surrounding the building, Ark tried to climb to the roof, but only managed to make his way through a crawlspace in the ceiling. The air duct was disgusting and dirty, but it was his best chance at staying hidden. Fortunately for Ark, he was a pretty skinny and lithe dude, so squeezing in wasn¡¯t an issue.


    Unfortunately for him, as he kept completely still during the police search, one of them, a slick haired man in a clean suit, decided to take a seat almost directly underneath Ark.


    The minutes that passed while Ark held his breath felt like years. Ark couldn¡¯t tell, but he suspected his bleached blond hair was probably going to start falling out due to the stress from this situation. After an eternity of waiting, the man got up and flashed a light down to the first floor, and soon after, a short woman in blankets came up to chat.


    Ark heard the entire conversation between them.


    They died.


    Everyone was killed during the job. Shot down by presumably some unknown perpetrator the detective was calling John Doe. The detective kept going back and forth about the existence of multiple gangs competing with each other, and about the possibility of traitors. His final deduction was that the note to lead them here was meant to pin the blame on someone else, but since it was so late, whoever was here would¡¯ve left already. That the best they could do was swab for DNA.


    But the detective had most of it incorrect.


    Ark was the one who wrote that note, giving it to Bruce so that he¡¯d be able to remember the address of the warehouse they were supposed to meet at. It was really fucking stupid in hindsight, but none of them ever considered the job would fail. The plan wasn¡¯t foolproof or anything, but it should¡¯ve been really easy to do. At least that was what they were told.


    Were...were they set up?


    Ark felt himself considering the possibility. The detective talked about another gang coming in and manipulating the crime scene, and that to pull it off, whoever was attacking would need to know what was going to happen.


    This wasn¡¯t some heist Ark came up with on his own. He was just the guy who ended up speaking with a member of the Volkov Family, and was introduced to a lucrative job if he could find a team of unaffiliated thugs. All they needed to do was stick up a small convenience store, one only the territory of another gang, and steal some petty cash. The time was predetermined, since it would be when only a single staff member was present and foot traffic would be limited. The entire thing was supposed to be smooth sailing, and they¡¯d get paid a fine amount and get a position in the Volkov Group.


    They were betrayed.


    Ark¡¯s thoughts naturally drifted to Cher.


    His guardian angel and guardian devil. Setting him up with a job like this only to fail was absolutely something that spiteful woman would do. Was this her fault? She had been with him the entire time, but was it possible she was also colluding with other people in Seattle to ruin the plan? Was it possible? Nobody had ever noticed her before, but she could still affect reality in some ways. Ark wasn¡¯t even fully convinced she even existed.


    The male detective eventually stopped speaking, and he made a gesture Ark couldn¡¯t see to the woman, who began her talking herself.


    ¡°The factory has been abandoned for a few years,¡± she said. ¡°Everything backs that up. Lots of nasty bugs and decaying infrastructure. Someone should probably either renovate this building or have it torn down. I might even submit a grievance myself for it.


    ¡°The only signs of life here were the cigarette butts I found down by the conveyor belts. They were the same type we found outside, however, these were even fresher. As though they were being smoked right before we came in. The area was also clear of dust, and it looked like someone was walking around or cleaning it.¡± She swung her hand at the detective.


    ¡°Someone was waiting,¡± he said. ¡°How interesting? But not for us, I believe. Whoever this person was, they were set up. But how did they escape? And how many were there?¡±


    ¡°Two,¡± the woman said. ¡°One looked to be male, who was pacing around. Shuffling his feet a lot. The other appeared to be female, or at least had a feminine silhouette. I believe she was carried by the man, or walked in his footprints perfectly, because the only evidence she was ever here was the outline of where she sat. I¡¯m not sure how they got away. The footprints come and go from where we entered, but I couldn''t find anything else. Of course, since we breached aggressively, they could have been sullied.¡±


    ¡°So there¡¯s nothing?¡±


    ¡°It almost appears like they vanished into thin air.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± The man was rubbing his chin. ¡°There¡¯s no way you wouldn¡¯t notice if they did anything...but then how could they get away like that? I mean, it could be that they were prepared for us, and had an escape plan sorted out, but then it doesn¡¯t really fit with the assumption that they were being framed. Unless they considered that a possibility¡­¡±


    The two stood in silence for a few minutes, until the metal near Ark¡¯s head creaked. The woman¡¯s eyes immediately shot to that area, and Ark felt his heart stop as their eyes met.


    She squinted.


    ¡°Do you see something?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± she replied to her partner. ¡°It looks like there¡¯s something up there, behind the ceiling. In the vents. If I could just get a better look¡­¡±


    She tossed her blanket to the male detective, then took his chair and set it directly underneath Ark. A bead of sweat formed on his nose, then slowly rolled down to the very tip, and as the female detective started to get onto the stool, the water droplet fell, landing audibly on the ground before her.


    Nothing moved as she stared at the drop.


    But before she could do anything else, another fell through a different part of the roof. Then another. Heavy rain started pelting the building, causing the sound to echo throughout. Water was spilling down in different places where the waterproofing wasn¡¯t perfect, and the detective grabbed her blanket back.


    ¡°My mistake,¡± she said, and then huddled close to him to whisper into his ear for a second.


    Then, they left.


    It took about fifteen minutes for the remainder of the cops to leave the building, and Ark waited another half hour after that to escape from his hiding place. His body was freezing from the icy rain, but he needed to be sure they wouldn¡¯t come back. This was his chance to escape. If they came back in the morning, and he was still here, there¡¯d be no way out.


    As he crept down the stairs, he couldn¡¯t forget that female detective¡¯s stare. As though it were locked directly onto him.


    He took off his jacket, which was soaked, and shoved it underneath his undershirt as he peeked out the building¡¯s door. If anyone stayed behind, they¡¯d see the jacket, even in the rain, and then all his waiting would be for nothing. Right now, he had a mission. His friends were dead, and he needed to figure out why. He couldn¡¯t ask Cher, since she would just lie. Right now, there was only one person he could go to for answers. The person in charge of the Volkov Family. The one who gave him this job directly.


    The nightmarish man.


    Lawrence Volkov.


    ***


    ¡°You were right,¡± Louis said, watching the drenched man exit the building from his car.


    The two called off all the other officers, but after Deb saw someone hiding in the ceiling watching them talk, Louis¡¯s curiosity had been piqued. They set themselves up in a nearby building, finding a spot where they could watch the most obvious exit.


    And like clockwork, someone left, heading south. Deb captured an image of him in her mind, then stored it for later.


    ¡°Of course. You were right too.¡±


    The two cautiously tailed him, sticking behind buildings whenever they could.


    He was easy to track, leaving footprints in the mud and drenching the dry areas he passed under. Within a few hundred feet of the abandoned building he had been hiding in, they found him pulling a tarp off a small red car before getting inside. He started the car and pulled out, through a side gate, then continued to the highway. Deb managed to see the license plate and recorded it in her mind.


    Louis sent out a request for all the data related to it.