《BEEADDLEDRUNG ⁠— Serial Bogeyman》


 Prologue - His Pledge

    The resonant clangs of sword against fleeced knuckle or palm rang throughout the village in the stead of silenced voices. The source of the sounds, a true battle knowing not predator nor prey but two equally impassioned opponents, had taken no pause since morning. Even now, as the sun tugged the droopy lid of night over the sky in its orange deluge, the pants and cries of a warrior denying death''s approach continued as if begging the village to stay awake past twilight, to bear witness. From beneath that struggle rose a distinct, ear-tickling sound.


    Though the warrior knew that this village had long since been dragged into an unshifting slumber, he couldn''t help but pretend that he was within a packed stadium, with a city of spectators holding air in their lungs in anticipation of his victory. Nostalgia washed over him like dusk over the village as he recalled his young adulthood ¡ª he could almost see the spectators waving their ragged banners, smell the pungent spice of concessionary snacks wafting through the sun-drenched air, hear the ringing in his ears that accompanied every expectant, placid silence, every killing blow. In those days, the warrior was no hero. He killed, he desperately seized lives, just to ensure his own survival. He played to the interests of his patrons, partook in their awful gatherings where the air was stiff with winish breath and he was but another man¡¯s party trick. He did this to survive, and yet each day he was reminded that his life was not even his to hold.


    ¡°Perhaps this time, my child,¡± or, ¡°win another victory for me, then we shall see.¡± Some variation of these words spilled from the lips of that wretched man, the one whom he was taught to call father, whenever the warrior pleaded to be released. Release never came except in brief and guilty glimmers, those deep breaths and roaring applauses.


    Since those days, the warrior now realized, death had not been so frightening. It had not been frightening at all. No matter how feline and ferocious his foes were in rumor or tattle, they always shrunk at the sight of his sword and died as mice. Of course, he never enjoyed fighting. He hated the feeling of a hilt in his calloused hands: natural. He hated blood and the way it dripped and pooled, dried, crusted, and cracked. He certainly did not fight for blood. He even hated being called a warrior in the first place. ¡°Hero,¡± he could stand. After he escaped from the Pit, he hoped naively that he might never have to fight again. Finally his own master, he didn''t expect he¡¯d ever feel responsible for a life other than his own. But now he bore that burden, and so he fought as a hero.


    On the other end of the blade stood a monster, the agent of each teasing parry which shook the foyer they fought in, shook the front doors to and fro on their aching hinges. In truth, the dying sunlight and the sight of the village only entered the fray in these brief gasps. This hilltop manor was not the monster¡¯s home, and yet he had hauled all of his possessions into the place, once the boastful house of a ruling lord. In a sense, then, he had made it his. It may have been an elegant place once, but now it was adorned with all the dour flair one could expect from a monster¡¯s abode: cobwebs, unlit candles, the stench of death, et cetera. Some delicate furnishings from the past remained intact, such as a crystal chandelier which hung over the foyer. It swung violently as the battle raged, its usual eerie glow now an enraged twinkle.


    The crackling hum in the air grew in volume until it crowded the hero''s ears. It was a curious sound. Was the monster preparing a spell? If so, it would be best to disengage from close combat. And yet the monster moved with such fervor that to disengage, and so to halt the flurry of strikes he had so long sustained, could mean giving the monster the perfect opportunity to attack with his crooked claws. Attempting to change into a defensive stance could completely backfire, but if a magic attack was imminent, failing to do so might also be lethal. But how could such a magic attack be prepared without an incantation? And then it became clear ¡ª


    The monster was laughing.


    ¡°Ahaha, ahahahaha!¡± his voice rumbled.


    Both parties ceased exchanging blows. While the hero saw an opportunity to end things swiftly during the monster¡¯s pause, he was too taken aback to act in time. Would it have made a difference if he did act? His opponent was confident enough to stop and laugh at him. His mind raced.


    ¡°I am sorry, human,¡± the monster spoke. ¡°I have been so caught up in this game we¡¯ve been playing that I did not think to ask ¡ª why have you come here?¡±


    The jerking of the doors slowed to a stop and the last light of the evening bled in. Its soft illumination outlined the monster¡¯s form ¡ª he stood around two heads taller than the hero, and from a distance could perhaps have been mistaken for a human of grand stature. Up close, he was undoubtedly monstrous. A great mess of fur ran from his breast to his jaw and then wrapped around his head in a mane. Pointed ears shot out from his hair, horn-like, and both furrowed brows looked aflame with more coppery fur. His eyes were a sickly yellow, and each hung under its brow like a waning moon beneath a swab of cloud. Sharp fangs, notably polished, poked out from his underbite. Despite these bestial features, there was something oddly sophisticated about him. He was dressed in the proud garb of a count or lord, torn and re-stitched with patches of miscellaneous cloth so that it fit his hulking figure. From a chain tied around his waist as a belt dangled a keyring and, strangely, a small cage, vacant. The longer the hero observed, the more like a person his opponent appeared. But he couldn''t shake off the monster¡¯s own question despite how his curiosity had been kindled.


    After catching his breath, the hero responded, ¡°So this has been like a game to you, fiend? I have not found it so fun.¡± A fib. ¡°You should know exactly why I¡¯m here if you¡¯re as smart as you look.¡±


    The monster¡¯s taut face mimed confusion. Or perhaps he really was confused. ¡°I do not know¡­ could it be that you have come to reclaim something?¡± the monster asked. He puzzled over which of his many adopted belongings this human could be after.


    Just as the hero started to reply, a thought flashed across the monster''s face and he spoke, ¡°Oho! Could this be what you¡¯re seeking?¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Reaching an unwieldy mitt into a deep pocket, he slowly removed a glossy sphere. Within the sphere, which he pinched between his claws, danced a bright flame. The hero recognized it as an Ignis artifact, a powerful source of fire magic. The villagers must have relied on it for protection.


    ¡°Honestly, I am not sure how to use it. It is all yours.¡± With this, the monster flicked it toward the hero, who instinctively deflected it with his sword. It bounced away harmlessly.


    ¡°An artifact like that can be extremely volatile,¡± the hero warned, almost losing his composure. ¡°And that¡¯s not what I came here for.¡±


    ¡°Oops,¡± the monster replied dully. ¡°Then did you come for the villagers?¡± With this, he let out a large, rumbling belch. The smell of death grew stronger.


    The hero¡¯s expression turned grave, and he spoke more coolly now. ¡°No, it seems I¡¯ve come too late to help those poor souls.¡± Anger began to show in his trembling grip. ¡°Where is my daughter?¡±


    Drip.


    As he gripped his blade, the hero¡¯s blood ran down the weapon and onto the floor. Blood? The pain was slowly setting in, too. When was he wounded? Could he have been so mesmerized by his opponents competency in parrying his attacks that he failed to notice someone else lurking in the room? Was the monster stalling while a thrall readied to assassinate him? Had a magic attack actually been carried out? How could he have been so foolish?


    He swallowed anxiously as he looked down to find his body covered in lacerations. They didn¡¯t appear to be too deep, but he was bleeding nonetheless, and had probably been bleeding for some time. He felt weak, not just physically, but in the crushing sense of suspected defeat, a feeling he had forgotten.


    ¡°Hmhmhmhmha,¡± the monster chuckled. ¡°Looks like I got you.¡± He tugged on his coat to reveal a wide gash across his own chest, raw with indigo blood. ¡°But you got me, too.¡± The monster snapped his fingers, and at this the candles lining the walls lit themselves. The shadows he now cast began to squirm with sharp, rigid motions, as if they were about to pounce. ¡°I was licking at you with your own shadow,¡± he spoke, and snapped the candles back out.


    Meanwhile, the hero moved slowly as he listened to his opponent and observed the effects of their battle. He eyed the ornate walls with imagined interest as he inched towards the thing and swiftly snatched it up. Then, he moved back toward the door, all the while acting ¡ª as best he could ¡ª as if he were searching for something else. It might not have been a believable performance if he didn¡¯t genuinely wonder whether his daughter might be somewhere nearby, although he feared the worst.


    ¡°And that thing?¡± the monster asked, his words stinging with disgust. ¡°Ahhh, of course. It gave me some trouble. It¡¯s not here anymore.¡±


    ¡°Dead?¡± the hero asked plainly, his hands wrenching tighter around his blade. Depending on the answer given, he''d judge the creature in front of him right then and there. He''d paint those old walls with its blood if he had to and just sit there in the quiet for a while. Were he younger, he might have tried, but he knew that right now it would be suicide. He had priorities.


    ¡°Not last I saw it,¡± the monster said. ¡°They are not as tasty when they are that defiant, anyway. I prefer them scared. That thing cast a confusion spell and escaped.¡± He licked his lips, and trailed off, ¡°but not without spilling some of its internals, I reckon¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all I needed to know,¡± the hero responded through gritted teeth. His muscles tensed so that the monster expected him to lash out with his sword. Humans were always vengeful for their own kind, the monster thought, and this one surely could not resist the urge to avenge its own-


    The room erupted.


    Before the monster could react, the hero was out the door. The foyer had become engulfed in hungry flames, and shrapnel fell in sharp clumps from the ceiling. The effect wasn¡¯t devastating, but it gave the man an opportunity to escape. The monster gave chase as soon as he could stand again, and his arms waved gashes through the flames as he ran.


    A bloodthirsty roar sounded from behind the hero. There was no doubt that the creature would chase him, but he was confident in his speed. Under his breath he spoke a simple incantation which roused his legs to propel him forward with renewed finesse. He had left his sword, but that didn¡¯t matter now. Nothing mattered but his child.


    The hero charged down into the village in a spectacular flight, and as soon as the monster stumbled out to the edge of the hill he understood that he wouldn''t be able to catch up. Shadows danced around him in a tango with the flames loosed by the artifact, and with one last angry howl he sent a fireball streaming toward the village. It took a few of the abandoned houses down. Thatch burned and crumpled against the ground and wood turned to charcoal.


    At the edge of the crater its impact created stood the hero, thoroughly impressed by the beast¡¯s tenacity. Had things gone on longer, or if he''d been a bit slower, he may have even fallen to it, and so perhaps out of respect he turned to face his enemy.


    ¡°After I find my daughter,¡± he yelled up toward that building, still burning, ¡°I will return to kill you! This, I pledge.¡± For a moment, the two locked locked eyes so that the monster understood this as a promise. ¡°You can keep my sword!¡± Obscured by the corona of flames that surrounded and spread from the crater, the hero vanished into the night.


    ¡°Come, then!¡± the monster shouted. ¡°I will look forward to that day, the day you¡¯ll kill me!¡±


    He mocked the warrior, but his hair was standing on end. Something like hatred or fear bubbled within him. He wanted to keep hating this stranger, or fearing him. Didn¡¯t the hero want to avenge his daughter? Being coy about the girl''s whereabouts should¡¯ve made him angrier. He didn¡¯t even ask which way it went! It must be dead by now. The man had better return soon, the beast decided.


    Louder now, the monster howled into the dark, ¡°Remember this day and the pledge you made, human! Remember it by my name ¡ª


    BEEADDLEDRUNG.¡±


    This cumbersome name poured out through the village and then down through the trees like an avalanche, an ill-formed tumult assaulting all who could hear. Except for the hero, if he was not already too far away, there were none. The village was empty now, and only the crackling of combustion could be heard in response to this desperate proclamation.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG sighed, defeated. He turned and reentered his adopted lair and allowed the shadows to feast on the restless flames. Removing the keyring from his belt and twirling it around his index claw, he stared at his wound, which was still wet. It glistened.


    It hurt.

 Chapter 1 - BEEADDLEDRUNG

    It was late in the evening, and summertime. Mosquitoes skated through the air. Ouacan hated how the little daggers always snuck indoors, seemingly immune to all arcane deterrents. He remembered hearing about a high level mage in the capital who had engineered a spell to eliminate the bugs, but way out in the marshes where his small town was, they were clearly still thriving. He watched one land on his arm with unbecoming grace before slapping it, releasing a small blood splatter. Maybe the local sage would learn some anti-mosquito spells during one of her next semesters in the capital. Maybe by next summertime.


    Ouacan tossed the book he''d been holding against a wall, which it hit with a muffled clunk. While he wanted to study, he couldn¡¯t get his thoughts straight. Oftentimes he thought it useless, anyway. Reading, that is. If any historical sons of tanners had moved to the capital and become skilled in the arcane arts as he wished to, he''d read of none. Though he had yet to take on a class himself, it seemed certain that his would be tanner, too, like his father''s. The title of the book glared at him from its spine: On the Origin of Spells.


    According to the book, or what he''d read of it, spells and even classes were first derived from monsters. When humans learned of monsters¡¯ ability to amass strength, to level and to evolve, they found a way to mimic it. Assuming a class, even a mundane one like tanner, was technically like becoming a monster in some sense. What kind of class resembled a mosquito? Could mosquitoes evolve? Ouacan imagined a large needle-nosed creature skulking around in search of blood. The image disgusted him.


    ¡°Hey Oua!¡± a familiar voice called out from behind the boy¡¯s bedroom window. ¡°You still wanna check out that carriage?¡±


    It was the voice of his friend, Maia. The daughter of a seamstress, she was always dressed well, and she had a particularly chipper tone of voice which obscured her mood. Ouacan was never sure whether he was annoyed by these features or liked them. In any case, the two were around the same age, and all children in town who were close in age tended to spend a lot of time with one another.


    Yesterday, a guard had discovered a wrecked carriage outside of town. He refrained from examining it as to avoid a possible ambush, but apparently a group of guards was supposed to be dispatched at some point to perform a proper search. It hadn¡¯t happened yet. This was all according to Fenel, however ¡ª the son of a man who, while employed as a guardsman, was recognized as Gildabrud¡¯s ¡°town drunk.¡± Ouacan did not trust Fenel.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ how far away was it? I¡¯m already getting eaten alive inside, can¡¯t imagine how itchy I¡¯d be in the morning if we spent too long out there.¡±


    Maia giggled. ¡°You really are scared!¡±


    When rumor of the carriage was first brought up among the kids, Ouacan quickly spoke against visiting it. If the guards were reluctant to, then it was probably dangerous. Of course, he was quickly derided for his alleged cowardice, which he had a sort of reputation for. Maia¡¯s comment made his eye twitch.


    Oucan propped open the window and poked out of it in one clumsy motion before staring down at Maia. ¡°I am not scared, stupid. I¡¯m careful,¡± he responded.


    ¡°Suit yourself,¡± Maia said, still smiling. ¡°We¡¯re meeting at the usual spot soon. Don¡¯t regret not coming.¡± With that, she turned and darted through the bushes in a hyperbolic display of stealth. Perhaps all the youth in Gildabrud would take the assassin class, Ouacan thought. They were so accustomed to sneaking around at night that it might be a viable option.


    While he didn¡¯t want to go, he wasn¡¯t going to keep reading that book. He could go to sleep like he was supposed to, but he had too much on his mind. It hurt a little bit to think that even Maia saw him as a coward. What¡¯s wrong with being scared if it keeps you alive, he thought? Plenty of things besides mosquitoes lurked outside the town¡¯s walls, and although the kids weren¡¯t little anymore, they were without class abilities or spells. They were basically defenseless.


    As he imagined the danger, Ouacan also thought of the capital. All the soldiers and students of magic there had encountered and overcome countless dangers; even the shopkeepers and couriers had. The place was only so great because its inhabitants were the strongest adventurers and most skilled artisans, those with high levels in their classes. If he ever wanted to become like them, he¡¯d have to get more used to danger. Otherwise it was certain that he¡¯d remain in Gildabrud his whole life.


    The kids had been waiting on the roof of the barracks for some time, a place they could access rather easily thanks to Fenel¡¯s spare key, ¡°for emergencies only.¡± The skinny boy looked at Maia and then down towards the center of town as he scratched at his shaggy brown hair. ¡°A no-show again, huh?¡± he spoke, half-teasingly, half-concerned.


    A burly kid with crooked teeth chimed in, ¡°he¡¯s going to miss out. I bet the carriage is full of loot.¡±


    ¡°Wait, look!¡± Maia said and pointed towards the edge of the roof, where some fingers strained to hold on. The four children crowded around to look down at Ouacan, who struggled to pull himself up. ¡°A little h-help?¡± he mustered. Their arms twisted toward him and lifted him onto the roof.


    Before Ouacan stood Maia and Fenel as well as two others: the larger one, Don, and a quiet one named Jonfrey. These four were his closest friends, and in the moment that they lifted him up he felt that they really did have a special connection. The feeling quickly went away as Fenel began to speak.


    ¡°Well, look who it is!¡± Fenel said a bit too loud, which earned him a shush from Maia. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you had it in you, buddy,¡± he continued in a whisper.


    Ouacan took a deep breath. ¡°Me neither, I guess.¡±


    ¡°The longer we¡¯re out, the more likely we are to be caught,¡± warned Jonfrey, who looked irritated. He started to hoist himself onto the large wall next to the barracks and motioned for the others to do the same. Ouacan shrugged before following suit.


    The jump down from the wall always stung the legs a bit, but the numbness that followed complemented a nimble run well. The kids moved swiftly in single file and kept to the shadows until they were far out of view of the guard towers.


    ¡°Apparently it¡¯s a ways down the road, right around the ridge.¡± Fenel pointed out into the darkness at the curving path, which could barely be distinguished from the rest of the moonlit sprawl ahead. The group started trotting slowly now while keeping to their marching order. Don stood at the front because, well, he was biggest. Maia was, to her distaste, kept in the middle, ¡°for her protection.¡±


    From the back, Ouacan observed the stillness of the night. He felt surprisingly calm. It seemed as if there were no other living creatures for miles around. Strangely, Fenel was shaking a bit. As soon as he noticed, Ouacan saw this as a perfect opportunity for payback.


    ¡°You know¡­ ¡± he started in a mysterious tone, ¡°they say a particular type of monster loves to prowl around on nights like these¡­¡± In his mind, this was a weak attempt to be scary, but Fenel turned to look at him, followed by the others. They all looked slightly worried.


    ¡°Shut the hell up,¡± Fenel laughed, visibly on edge.


    ¡°No, no, I¡¯m not kidding. I read about it in a book.¡± The others at least thought of Ouacan as booksmart, so this would give his story some credibility. ¡°What is it?¡± Don asked. Ouacan gestured forward and the group continued walking as he resumed:


    ¡°I¡¯ve read that it goes by many names. Most sources aren¡¯t sure that it even exists. All that''s known is that it stalks children who leave their villages when it''s dark out... and then the children go missing.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit-¡± Fenel started, still facing forward.


    ¡°Like little Laon went missing?¡± Maia cut in, her voice wavering. She was referring to another girl the kids played with when they were young who was no longer present in Gildabrud. Ouacan smiled creepily.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± he continued. ¡°When I asked the sage about Laon, she told me it was the work of this very monster. She said it waits in the shadows, watching its victims for hours before¡­


    Zwoosh!¡±


    Everyone jumped and halted again just before the ridge.


    Jonfrey weakly asked, ¡°What else did the Sage say?¡±


    ¡°She said it was a one-of-a-kind monster, the last of its breed in all the land, and that it had a name like a person.¡±


    ¡°Which was¡­?¡± Fenel was more impatient than scared at this point.


    ¡°Um, erm¡­¡± Ouacan hadn¡¯t thought this far ahead. A frightening name could really sell the story, but what made a name frightening? Before he could properly formulate something, a word tumbled out of his mouth almost unconsciously ¡ª


    ¡°BEE-ADDLE-DRUNG.¡±


    And a gentle wind rustled through the nearby trees.


    Zwoosh-


    ¡°Hahahaha! Lame!¡± Fenel said, breaking the tension and eliciting hushed laughter from the rest of the group. ¡°You almost had me there, Oua.¡±


    Ouacan was a little disappointed in himself for ruining the climax, but on top of that he was unsure of where that name came from. It seemed predestined to roll off his tongue, silly though it was. Had he read it somewhere? Maybe he really had heard a story like the one he described.


    ¡°Hey guys, look," Don said, and stopped after turning around the ridge. He pointed towards the apparent wreckage of the carriage. The vehicle had been toppled onto its side, with its underbelly now facing the direction the kids approached from. Its wheels looked to be in decent shape, and in fact there wasn¡¯t any kind of damage visible befitting of a toppled carriage. It was as if it had just been flipped over. Stranger still, a warm light ballooned from behind the carriage. A fire.


    ¡°An adventurer?¡± Maia asked excitedly. She looked toward Ouacan for an answer. How should I know? ¡°Hmm¡­ ¡± he replied, distracted by the anomaly.


    ¡°Only one way to find out,¡± Fenel said. He hurried to the front and advanced as sneakily as he could, using the brush on the outskirts of the ridge to his advantage. The others did the same. Ouacan felt uneasy.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a bit strange that an adventurer would camp so close to town?¡± he questioned, not really expecting an answer.


    Maia rolled her eyes. ¡°Adventurers do plenty of things stranger than that.¡±


    She had a point, but this seemed like¡­ bait. Ouacan indeed hadn¡¯t read much about high level monsters, nor had the sage told him about them, but his mother and father often warned him about bandits. There existed people who made a living, even leveled up by luring unsuspecting travelers into situations like this before stripping them of their belongings at knife-point and sending them away¡­ or worse.


    ¡°We should turn back.¡± His voice did not reach the others in time.


    ¡°-the hell?¡± Don stared out at the suspected camp from the brush, stupefied. He spied three figures ¡ª two slumped against the interior of the carriage, another laid flat across the dead grass. They were guardsmen.


    ¡°Papa!¡± Fenel shouted as his confident posture collapsed into worry. He ran toward the men with no regard for stealth, gasping for air as his heart began to race. Jonfrey squinted for a moment before letting out an uncharacteristically loud gasp from the bushes. Maia was motionless. Ouacan¡¯s heart sank.


    Seen more clearly, it appeared that there were actually four figures by the carriage. Two, slumped against the vehicle, were dripping crimson from deep pierce wounds on their chests. It looked as if they had been pinned there like job requests on the community bulletin. The one on the ground was face-down and looked gnarled, half¡­ -eaten? Mosquitoes buzzed around the blood that pooled beneath him as if it were the stagnant pool of water they had spawned from. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The fire, it appeared, was not kept alight with lumber. Another body, assumedly also a guard, acted as its fuel. Ouacan choked on the smoky air.


    One of the slumped guards slowly looked up at Fenel. It was not his father. ¡°Run, boy¡­¡± The man¡¯s final words were but a whimper.


    Then, a gravelly voice rose from a low hum. It came from the shadows.


    ¡°A human toy to lure out the guards, and the guards to lure out¡­ well, I presumed something stronger than guards. I did not expect children.


    Splendid.¡±


    The monster slowly emerged from the amorphous shadow of the carriage as if it were a deep inkblot, gelatinous as a bog. He ¡ª or it ¡ª was hairy as an animal, but had the cunning expression of a human criminal. But it wasn¡¯t a bandit. It was-


    ¡°B-beeaddledrung¡­¡± Fenel muttered, sinking weakly to his knees.


    ¡°Hm?¡± the monster raised a fluffy brow while holding a hand to his ear in a mocking fashion. ¡°BEEADDLEDRUNG?¡± He did his best to make it sound powerful. ¡°So they¡¯ve given me a name. Very good.¡±


    The beast sunk his claws into the two children by the carriage quickly, almost mercifully. Tendrils sprouted from his shadow and wavered like wheatgrass as they made their way toward the brush, toward Maia and Jonfrey. Ouacan was frozen. What could he do? This was a nightmare, a sick imitation of the story he made up. There was no way for him to escape ¡ª he couldn¡¯t cast a spell unless he had a class, and a magic-wielding class at that. Could he somehow take on a class in this moment? He thought of the mosquito-man he had pictured earlier. He saw BEEADDLEDRUNG.


    The boy blinked. The monster had turned to look at him. He didn''t feel the others by his side anymore, only the leering eyes of this creature boring into him. Did the monster already eat his friends, and the guards, playfully, slowly? Is that what happened? He wasn¡¯t going to think about it. He kept blinking and hoped for it to go away.


    The monster moved toward him and then stopped abruptly. This would have startled Ouacan if his mind wasn¡¯t pushed to the point of vacancy.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I like to leave one. To spread the word.


    Take care.¡±


    Spread the word? Leave one? Take care?


    Ouacan blinked again and the bodies were gone. Not a trace of blood remained, and the fire had disappeared, leaving a cloud of mosquitoes in its place. They buzzed in confusion, their expected blood bounty suddenly gone. He could have felt validated for wanting to stay home, but he just felt empty and afraid. Dinner fell out of his stomach in a rush of bile and landed in the tall grass before him. Then maybe he screamed. He didn''t know. He was too shocked to hear anything but the gentle zwoosh of the night air as his mind worked to generate a belated escape plan.


    ¡ª¡ª


    BEEADDLEDRUNG spun the keyring around his finger and listened to the faint jingle it made. He watched as the keys crossed one another and collided. Only a few of the keys were potentially useful to him, and even then, he didn''t use them often. Collecting them just seemed like an obvious hobby to take up ¡ª humans really liked to carry keys, apparently, and he had a habit of acquiring the contents of humans¡¯ inventories. At first, he¡¯d save every key he found, but after the ring became so overloaded that it was no longer fun to spin around, he had to get rid of some. Now only the most visually intriguing ones remained. As well as, of course, that one: the one he found the same night he found a name. It was a long time ago, somewhere on the other side of the kingdom.


    The creature stared at a painting on the wall in reminiscence. It was originally a portrait of a young human girl, but BEEADDLEDRUNG thought it looked contemptuous, so he punched the face in. The battered wall, exposed through the hole in the canvas, struck him as truly profound. He felt he''d surely improved the artwork.


    The human face was admittedly something of a mystery to him. He could hardly tell one human from the next, although certain categorizations were easy for him to make. The small ones, weak and whiny, were children. They were the hardest to get to but the easiest to break. The elder ones were similar, but they were often too smart, not worth the effort. Adults were more variable, and could sometimes put up a fight. Sometimes.


    His thoughts, as they often had lately, drifted toward a particular human man, the one who hurt him.


    Angrily, BEEADDLEDRUNG paced down the hall to the heavy door made of lead or iron or something enchanted. He pulled on it with mighty force, much more than necessary. Down the stairs he stomped, down to the inner sanctum, where he had found an impressive stockpile of minerals and magic tomes when he first adopted the property. They had since been relocated, and in their place stood the beast¡¯s most important possessions.


    One of them, a nasty little imp called Pennybard, scrawled away furiously at a vellum page three times his size. He muttered something profane as he scritched and scratched with his jagged fingers which stained the surface of the page with peculiar runes.


    ¡°Penny!¡±


    The creature jumped at the sound of BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s voice. His leathery wings fluttered nervously and his sour face contorted to form something resembling a smile.


    ¡°How is the thirty-first edition of my biografeed coming along?¡±


    The imp¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°I-it¡¯s biography sire.¡± It was probably a mistake to correct the oaf, but it was hard to resist. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ making progress. I think that you might be pleased with this edition.¡± He hoped that he would be.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG ran a blue tongue across his teeth. ¡°I¡¯ll have a peak, then.¡±


    At this, Pennybard squeaked. ¡°Why, of course.¡± He was, as ever, in no position to protest. He prepared for anguish and flapped his way under the book¡¯s cover before giving it a shove. The book closed with a flop. Onward to edition thirty-two, Pennybard thought somberly.


    The monster picked it up as gingerly as he could with his monstrous hands, which were best suited for strangling and decidedly not for this sort of thing. As he had observed humans do on occasion, he licked the tip of a finger and tried to turn a page with it. A thick globule of saliva splattered onto the table of contents. It slowly burnt through the page with an acidic hiss. Pennybard yelped.


    ¡°Oops,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said, and simulated an apologetic smile.


    He took greater care in turning the next pages, pinching the corners lightly between his claws and tugging them aside. A few ripped before he got the hang of it, but this didn''t detract from his reading.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG was not adept at sounding out words. If he were, he¡¯d be reading aloud, a great excuse to hear his own voice. Language was still a relatively fresh commodity to him. For two thirds of his existence, it was a concept beyond his understanding. Nowadays, he could at least grasp the general meaning of the symbols. As he scanned the pages, he thought of his origins.


    The monster spawned as a mere bugge, a puny thing not unlike a goblin. As a bugge, his scrawny limbs could hardly carry his ambition. Although he now only remembered that time in vague impressions and colors, he knew that he''d felt weak ¡ª hopeless and helpless beyond measure. He was almost always starving, and although he had a tribe, his brothers only ever proved to be obstacles on his path toward food. Together they would stalk the crags and search for carrion or wait for weak travelers to pass by. Individually, the bugges were quite fragile, but as a ravenous collective they could make quick work of their prey. In his dissatisfaction, BEEADDLEDRUNG must have first asserted his strength in a squabble for larger portions. He must have begun leading his tribe then and slowly leveled up until he could eat a whole human by himself. He must have evolved sometime in his thirties.


    With evolution came enlightenment. Memories of his time as a bugbear were far clearer, although they still lacked a sense of purposefulness or perspective. One of the first things he did was devour his tribe. It sounded a bit brutish now, but he was a brute then, and it was the best way he could think of to prevent being overthrown. Evidently, it''d worked. Around that time, he left the crags to seek out larger prey. Many formidable creatures became his food. On occasion he¡¯d cooperate with other monsters, but he always felt more full when he hunted alone.


    His greatest epiphany, the thing that eventually led him to his third evolution, was the sensation of flavor. Somewhere around level fifty, he noticed that some things tasted better than others. Hunting, which was once about merely filling his belly till he was bloated and sleepy, took on a new dimension. What prey satisfied him the most? The obvious considerations occurred to him first, such as texture and taste. How easily did the entrails slide down his throat? Were the bones hard to chew? Soon, though, it became clear that the quality of the meal had something to do with the way it moved, the way it acted.


    Humans had the best flavor. Once BEEADDLEDRUNG determined this, it seemed like it had been clear since his days on the crags.


    There were different kinds, of course, but the most abundant and satisfying flavor was that of fear. When he dismantled a human and they didn¡¯t want to be dismantled, that was flavorful.


    By the time the monster started to select prey based on this knowledge, to hunt meticulously and carefully, he had evolved to become a bogeyman. No doubt the rumors which began to surround him had helped. With his newfound sentience, he mastered the shadows along with the art of the hunt. He awakened a new bottomless hunger¡­ one he had yet to sate. As he stared through a page, BEEADDLEDRUNG thought of the name he''d earned, the name he''d told that hero to remember him by. Tears showered the book and singed its surface, filling the air with vapor.


    ¡°Sire!? Does it please?¡± Pennybard interrupted. He leaned forward with his little black eyes stretched as wide as they¡¯d go.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful¡­¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG responded, his tears still undoing the book. Losing interest, he grasped the biography in his hand and tossed it over his shoulder at Pennybard. It tackled the imp to the floor with a painful crunch.


    ¡°My life is beautiful, is what I mean. The biografeed could use some work.¡±


    With this, the monster moved further into the room, driven by some incalculable emotion. Pennybard twitched beneath the book for a moment before prying himself out. His limbs were tangled.


    ¡°Have you ever thought about how my story could end, Penny?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked, confident that the creature was still alive.


    Many times, the imp thought. ¡°Such a grandiose finale is beyond the limits of my imagination.¡± It¡¯d be best to avoid being mangled further.


    ¡°It is inconceivable indeed.¡± The monster arrived near another precious item, a large sword with a thick, angular blade. It took some effort to pick up, but BEEADDLEDRUNG dangled it from its hilt, which he held between two fingers. He admired an inscription on the guard of the sword, which was in a script he could not read. He imagined that it spelt finale. He thought that would be a fitting name for the sword.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG shifted the weapon in his hand so that his grip was closed around the hilt, and he pointed it towards the far wall of the room. As he traced the perimeter with the blade, he noticed how small the room really was. It could hardly hold all the unread love letters, all the wedding bands, all the locks of hair and teeth and bones and other assorted mementoes that lay about. It could hardly even hold puny Pennybard. BEEADDLEDRUNG felt that he should hunch over.


    ¡°How long have I been here?¡± he asked. Pennybard was meant to respond, but BEEADDLEDRUNG was also asking himself this question for the first time. It was unusual for him to remain in the same place for too long, as prey was always moving. If it wasn¡¯t, then it likely wasn''t worthy prey.


    Ever since he accepted that pledge, though, BEEADDLEDRUNG had remained in the village. He¡¯d barely ventured outside of that deceased lord¡¯s estate on the hill, where he was now. If he were to leave, how would the warrior find him again? Perhaps he underestimated the warrior, but ¡ª no, that wasn¡¯t it. He simply knew that if the battle were to be finished, it would be here. If his story were to end-


    ¡°It has been, by my estimation, some fifty cycles since you settled here,¡± Pennybard replied. This was likely an understatement; it had been a very long time since he was last calibrated to tell the time.


    The number stung. Fifty cycles spent pacing around these halls, waiting for something. It was good to know that the fear he held in his belly had sustained him for so long, at least. Fifty cycles. BEEADDLEDRUNG tied the hilt of the sword to his belt. It scraped the ground like a knife against a dinner plate as he walked toward the stairs.


    ¡°Hmm¡­


    I think I have had enough. I will go and look for him.¡±


    Him!? Pennybard could not believe that his master would refer to a human this way. He was always talking about them like they were tools, mere objects to be used or discarded by the beast. He treated the imp more or less the same way, but this was made less offensive by the fact that he showed humans, those vainglorious creatures, the same disrespect. At least, he had.


    The small cage at BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s waist creaked open as he pulled away a key, clipping the ring to his belt again. ¡°Get in,¡± he commanded.


    ¡°W-where are we going, sire?¡± the imp asked nervously. He expected to be ferried to some new hell.


    ¡°I am going¡­ to die.¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG stalked up the stairs, and the hero¡¯s sword was worn slightly duller as it scraped against each step. Pennybard grumbled and puzzled over his master¡¯s statement. Was he ill?


    The hall was chilly with roaming spirits. They parted upon the approach of the lumbering beast. In the foyer, which was now a charred ruin, some embers still sizzled as they suckled at the last reserves of the mana the Ignis artifact had released into the atmosphere so many cycles ago. Heavy claws fell over the embers and snuffed them out at last as BEEADDLEDRUNG walked through what was once the entrance.


    Even after the village was bereft of its inhabitants, it still carried a certain liveliness in the greenery which embraced it and the rich soil which it sat upon. Although the people had gone, the trees remained to weep for them as the breeze rattled their leaves.


    Fifty cycles later, the area was a barren hollow. The buildings had all rotted or shattered and the trees were dead and petrified. The earth was a dull and dusty grey, and the wind pooled in swirly wisps in places, carrying clouds of dirt. One of the only distinctive features that remained on the land was a scar, the crater BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s desperate attack had made. It looked glassy in the light of dawn.


    The sky reddened as the sun ascended from behind the hills and bathed the earth in ethereal blood. Morning.


    ¡°I am going to die.¡±

 Chapter 2 - Breakfast

    Pennybard wrapped his bony fingers around the bars of his little prison and hoisted himself up out of the pile he had been compressed into. With a strained exhale and a loud crackle, the knot his joints had formed unwound. He laid idle for a while, his vision blurring as it adjusted to the light of day. With each step his master took, he shook a little in the cage, to his annoyance. Something about the outside air and its dryness instilled hope in him, at least. It carried with it the slightest hint of escape.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG moved in his practiced gait, one which was deceptively quiet for a creature of his size and uncannily like a person¡¯s. It was not completely silent ¡ª he had a spell for that ¡ª but it was effective in avoiding unnecessary attention. Were he skulking around somewhere forested, or really inhabited by any life, his footsteps would blend in with the necessary ambience. In this grey and empty place, however, the sound seemed to echo. In that sense, it felt as if he hadn¡¯t left that manor yet. It was clearer now that he had seriously adopted the whole village, a feat which while no longer exciting was decidedly impressive.


    As the monster exited the village through the pass at its edge, the sword at his back continued to drag along. It traced a thin line through the dirt ranging back up to the top of the hill. Every now and then it would clip a stone with a sharp ding, at which Pennybard would jump. BEEADDLEDRUNG seemed to pay no attention.


    When he had first discovered the village and decided to adopt it, the area was hilly, but pockets of forest and snaking streams made the land feel full and even. As least, that¡¯s how he recalled it. Looking out from the pass, the terrain was alien to him. It was hideous now in that there was nowhere to hide. While he was chasing irregular prey and stealth wasn¡¯t such a priority, this troubled him nonetheless. Exposed like this, he¡¯d have to navigate more carefully than he was used to.


    ¡°Pennybard,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG rasped, ¡°I don¡¯t seem to recall the general human lifespan.¡±


    The imp perked up in his cage. ¡°Well, most humans do not survive longer than¡­ seventy cycles or so,¡± he responded. Just as soon as he did, he mentally rebuked himself. Damn it! According to that information, the man his master was seeking was likely already dead. If BEEADDLEDRUNG recognized that, the two would probably return to that house for eternity. It was ultimately unnecessary, but Pennybard added, ¡°however, the strongest of humans may live longer than one hundred whole cycles!¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG was silent for an uncomfortably long moment. Then he spoke. ¡°That man seemed unbound by what I supposed was the limit of human strength. He must be alive.¡± With this, he fell silent again and his gait resumed its prior cadence. Pennybard blinked in relief.


    It occurred to the imp that his ¡°chauffeur¡± might have no sense of direction regardless of his commitment to this search. ¡°Sire, if I might ask¡­ where are we going?¡±


    It was a worthy question, BEEADDLEDRUNG thought. ¡°We will have to find someplace where humans still dwell. There was another place near here that I used once or twice, but we will see what has become of it.¡± With that, he took a long drag on the dusty wind, and continued, ¡°I believe I can smell something upwind.¡± It was the scent of the living, which seemed a rarity in these conditions.


    The descent towards the nearby valley revealed some signs of life ¡ª stubbornly weak things persisted, such as the scaly critters which BEEADDLEDRUNG had now stepped on a few times, or the cacaw-ing birds with lanky necks and broad wingspans which circled overhead. These things couldn¡¯t even be considered a nuisance, and nor were they desirable, so they might as well have been invisible to BEEADDLEDRUNG. They were not lesser monsters, but animals, which only humans ever feared or hunted. There were some bushy plants which could have been alive nestled between dry dead trees or poking out of notches in the earth, but they lacked the vibrant green which once dominated the landscape. Now it all seemed cloaked in the same desperate color which hamlets full of starving humans evoked, a color BEEADDLEDRUNG never knew how to react to. Sometimes, he observed, humans could be so hopeless and hungry that to devour them would be an act of mercy. Was there any potential for flavor in that? He still did not know. Anything that wants to be eaten must be poisonous, he thought.


    ¡ª


    As the monster and his pet made their way into the valley, a group of four humans lurked within it at a small campsite, yet unaware of what approached. After traveling for nearly a full day on foot from the nearby outpost, the party had decided to set a camp in the open of the valley, where they could avoid an ambush. At least, that was the reason they settled on for stopping there to rest. As two of the humans finished packing up their bedrolls, one of them, a lean man with olive skin and scruffy black hair, yawned melodramatically.


    ¡°Man, I really needed that sleep,¡± he said teasingly. ¡°Hey, I think it was a good idea to stop after all, hm?¡± He looked at his tentmate with a smug grin.


    Said tentmate, a tall, muscular fellow with a severe face, sighed in response. ¡°Kinjo, I¡¯d rather not bicker today. You¡¯d do well to stay focused, yourself.¡±


    Kinjo¡¯s smile faded. ¡°No, I¡¯m focused.¡± And then reformed. ¡°Because I got some good rest!¡±


    The party leader, who sat outside, observed an angry grumble from within the last standing tent followed by an exaggerated yelp. Kinjo, whose cheek was now red and swollen, stepped outside soon after, as did the other man. ¡°Rough start to your morning, Kinjo?¡± she laughed.


    ¡°Good morning, Erika¡± said the muscular fellow as he passed by, uninterested in joking along.


    Kinjo looked embarrassed. ¡°Ah, thought I¡¯d try using a rock as a pillow. Bad idea.¡±


    Erika clapped amusedly in response. ¡°Didn¡¯t you argue last night that a ¡®good night¡¯s rest¡¯ is important before a hunt like this? Sounds like you¡¯re trying to sabotage us,¡± she teased.


    Kinjo raised his arms, yielding. ¡°You caught me."


    The fourth party member, a stout man clothed in an oversized tunic, twirled his beard hairs between his fingers as he squinted through a telescope. He gulped down the last bite of the rations he had packed as he scanned the perimeter. ¡°The payout for this bounty¡¯s supposed to be big, yeah?¡± he asked, aware that everyone was awake now.


    ¡°Very,¡± replied the muscular man, who had walked up beside him. ¡°But they won¡¯t say exactly what it is.¡± He took the telescope from his short companion, utilizing his height to survey the surrounding area. The valley wasn¡¯t so dusty as the crags and hills which surrounded it, but it was still such a wasteland now. A shame.


    ¡°How mysterious!¡± Kinjo chimed in, his voice wavering in mock allure.


    ¡°Rumor has it this one was posted by the crown,¡± Erika added. She smiled slightly, suppressing her excitement. ¡°Must be a tough one.¡±


    ¡°About time. Work¡¯s been too easy,¡± the bearded man said. He felt impatiently at a dagger holstered around his waist.


    The muscular fellow¡¯s breath, typically quite conspicuous in the rise-and-fall motion of his broad shoulders, halted for a moment. He focused the telescope in front of his eye and adjusted it until he was sure of what he saw. It was a large figure, slowly descending from a passage to the south. Humanoid. But not human.


    ¡°Something is approaching,¡± he warned. He handed the telescope to the bearded man and moved to an oblong bundle that lay on the ground, which he began unwrapping. The beige cloth unfurled to reveal his broadsword. He equipped it.


    The bearded man looked towards the passage after his companion pointed it out and became visibly nervous before passing the telescope to the leader. Kinjo looked hurt, having expected to look next.


    ¡°Oh, wow¡­¡± Erika trailed off. She carefully examined the figure. ¡°Looks like a tough one.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying the bounty¡¯s come to us?¡± Kinjo asked. He held no weapon, but his fingers twitched in anticipation.


    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± Erika responded absent-mindedly as she decided on a plan of attack. ¡°We should probably try to catch it off guard. I doubt it¡¯s friendly.¡±


    ¡°O Luna, I beg for your protection,¡± recited the bearded man. His body warped and shimmered before disappearing. ¡°I¡¯ll get behind it and follow,¡± he spoke, his voice quiet and tinny. ¡°Just gimme the signal and I¡¯ll strike.¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡ª


    BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s ears twitched. Pennybard started to speak, but stopped when he realized that he¡¯d only be insulting his master¡¯s perceptiveness if he did. Stupid though he may be, the monster¡¯s senses were those of a trained predator, far greater than Pennybard¡¯s own. The two continued into the valley in silence before BEEADDLEDRUNG spoke again.


    ¡°Ah,¡± he inhaled, savoring the scent on the wind. ¡°Just as I thought ¡ª humans.¡±


    It was not often that the beast smiled, but in this moment he was beaming. It had been so long since he¡¯d seen or heard or smelled a human. Sure, he had memories, which felt like enough while he waited in that house. But nothing could compare to the real thing. Drool leaked from his maw and dripped down from the base of his fangs. It sizzled as it hit the ground.


    They were not far away, and there were a few of them. Beside them stood a tent and the remnants of a fire, still fresh and smoky. They had large packs, which BEEADDLEDRUNG imagined might contain some interesting keys. He¡¯d flay the humans and eat them live, while they still screamed¡­


    And then he stopped himself, reluctant to go further down that trail of thought. He was not on a hunt, at least not like the kind he was used to. The humans could be useful to him alive, preserved, unconsumed. No more drool fell. Patience, he reminded himself. An ability to resist temptation and hold out for a greater prize was what made him such a successful hunter in the first place, something he could not have understood before he was a bogeyman. He was proud to be patient.


    It wasn¡¯t long before BEEADDLEDRUNG reached the humans, who stood ready with a practiced calmness. There were three: two men and a woman. One man had a sword about half the size of the hero¡¯s. The other held nothing. The woman was furthest away and held a bow. Something about their rehearsed formation was funny to BEEADDLEDRUNG, and so he laughed.


    ¡°Humans are so full of guts,¡± spoke the beast, alarming the group. ¡°I mean that you are brave, challenging me this way.¡±


    The muscular man retained his intense expression, but a bead of sweat rolled down his neck. The monster, while still some length away, was clearly taller than even him. It was dressed like a person, and spoke like one, but something about its bulging cheeks and stiff jaw was so uncanny. Its long, pointed ears caught his eye.


    ¡°A bugbear is brave to challenge a group of adventurers, I¡¯d say,¡± he responded in an attempt to agitate the thing.


    ¡°I thought bugbears were extinct,¡± said Kinjo, glancing at his companion. ¡°And stupid. Like, the ¡®can¡¯t talk¡¯ kind of stupid¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG roared. ¡°Ahahaha! I¡¯ve not heard that name in a long time¡­ I was stupid then!¡± He licked his lips. ¡°Now I know better.¡±


    The monster slowly stepped closer and upturned his palms as a show of peace. The hero¡¯s sword skidded quietly behind him.


    ¡°My master will interrogate you, now!¡± Pennybard hollered, his voice shrill and indignant. The humans had not noticed the imp until now.


    Kinjo looked confused and disgusted, but before he could make a remark, Erika spoke from behind. Her fingers clutched an arrow.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re in a position to interrogate us? I think you¡¯re the only one who¡¯s feeling merciful today, beast.¡± She readied the arrow and aimed at the beast, emanating pressure.


    The bearded man, still under Luna¡¯s protection, held a dagger shakily to the back of the monster.


    ¡°I know that there is one behind me,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG responded. His shadow squirmed menacingly. The man gulped and held his position. ¡°I am familiar with that strategy. It won¡¯t work.¡±


    Understanding that the assassin was essentially a hostage now, the party leader lowered her arrow. ¡°What is it you want?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for something. Someone,¡± the beast corrected himself. ¡°He¡¯s the owner of this sword.¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG clumsily pulled the sword from behind his back, which caused the bearded man to back up quickly and fall over. Some dust flew up from the ground.


    The muscular man examined the sword and scoffed at its ridiculous size. ¡°Only a fool would carry such a weapon. How impractical.¡±


    ¡°I am confident that the owner is the strongest of humans. You do not know of him?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG expected the weapon to be an easily recognized relic. Surely the hero was a legend. Disappointment tugged at is lips as he prepared his next question.


    Erika thought the sword looked somewhat familiar, but she was never great at distinguishing between swords. ¡°And if we did know of this man?¡± she asked hesitantly.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG lurched forward with alarming speed, only stopping a bit before the stronger looking human. His gaze was still fixed towards the woman. ¡°Then you should tell me. Tell me right now.¡±


    The man was still sweating, but he glowered at the thing before him in disgust. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t get any closer if I were you.¡±


    ¡°Do you know who I am?¡± the bogeyman said, anger welling up in his gravelly voice. ¡°Have you heard the stories? The shadow which steals away women and children and fools?¡± The ground shook a bit, but the party stared blankly. They seemed confused. ¡°The man I am looking for did not shrink in my presence. You lot are tiny. I can smell your fear. And humans should be afraid, for I am ¡ª


    BEEADDLEDRUNG.¡±


    The valley was quiet for a moment except for the reverberation of the monster¡¯s name, which he revelled in. The name had served him well, and it was his.


    ¡°Pfft. Who?¡± Kinjo chuckled.


    ¡°...BEEADDLEDRUNG,¡± the monster repeated, this time louder.


    ¡°Never heard of you,¡± the muscular man said matter-of-factly. The party leader looked on, somewhat at a loss. It was an interesting name.


    What!?


    The bogeyman¡¯s eyes went wide in shock. He used to thrive off of the stories humans would tell, the things they¡¯d whisper about him. ¡°Don¡¯t go into the woods alone,¡± they¡¯d warn, or ¡°don¡¯t stay up until dawn. That¡¯s when you¡¯ll start to see him.¡± He¡¯d left plenty of signatures in the past ¡ª a trail of fingers, or untangled intestines, or even just a whole lot of blood. And they ate it up. He even often left a survivor. He¡¯d tell them, ¡°I am BEEADDLEDRUNG. Take care, and spread the word.¡± They started to imagine him everywhere, and it inspired greater fear in their hearts. It made them delicious. Because he was BEEADDLEDRUNG, and there was no human who could avoid his gaze, none who could escape his pursuit. He was a king in the shadows, a being with no equal¡­ except for that man. Who? Never heard of you? They¡¯d grown arrogant in the fifty cycles he had waited. They¡¯d grown insolent. Useless. Pennybard shook his head.


    In an instant, the beast burst forward and flailed the sword around in one hand as he lept. The bearded assassin reacted swiftly and piereced the wind with his dagger in pursuit of the beast. This was the opening he¡¯d been waiting for, one he thought he¡¯d been deprived of until the thing became distracted. He¡¯d render it lifeless before it could reach his comrades.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s shadow leapt off the ground, humming delightedly. It skewered the assassin. His fresh blood was the first thing to reveal itself before his body flashed into visibility. He choked on something which rose out of his throat, but never learned what it was.


    The swordsman jumped back, not far enough to avoid the monster, but enough to avoid the imminent explosion of magical energy. Kinjo, the mage, had prepared the ground with a spell which would detonate upon contact. A pillar of blinding blue light shot up around BEEADDLEDRUNG, who tumbled over before catching himself with the hero¡¯s sword. He could feel the top layer of his skin burning off. Pennybard was unphased.


    When the light faded, Kinjo was surprised to see the monster still standing. Then, before he could speak, his mouth fell agape. There was a long splatter of blood behind BEEADDLEDRUNG, a crimson trail, and something was tearing and chewing at the body which lay at its end.


    ¡°O Lumen,¡± the mage muttered, ¡°I humbly ask: what is this monster before me?¡±


    The beast¡¯s body was steaming, its exposed flesh a sickly blue. Blood still crackled on its surface and oozed out to form a thin membrane.


    ¡°KRJRKJBP,¡± commanded BEEADDLEDRUNG. New skin wove itself around his steaming flesh. It carelessly laced itself through his tattered garments, and new tufts of fur sprouted from the skin like weeds. His eyes glowed, the facade of intelligence they carried before swallowed by their emptiness.


    [Bogeyman - Lvl 99]


    Whatever was feasting on the assassin¡¯s body finished and hissed satisfactorily before whipping back toward its caster. It danced around him, dividing into many tendrils. Pennybard shook his head.


    ¡°You¡¯ve made a mistake. My master has an awful temper, and a very fragile ego,¡± said the imp. He couldn''t help but grin. The beast flicked the cage hard, which dizzied the imp so much that he became sick.


    ¡°O Ignis,¡± Erika began, the head of the arrow she aimed catching fire, ¡°please, be my-¡±


    ¡°IGNIS,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG roared, tongue flapping. ¡°Hush.¡±


    The fire went out, even the little blue flames that still tickled the ground, and for a moment Pennybard shuddered. The shadows cackled.


    ¡°If you do know anything about this sword, tell me right now.


    Before I gobble you up.¡±

 Chapter 3 - Bodies

    For a moment, the surviving party members stood drenched in confusion as the stench of death and foul, raw monster flesh wafted their way. Then came an awful sobriety with the change of the wind¡¯s direction. The three were clearly outmatched, as indicated by their minced companion, who had already begun to sink into shadow.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG continued his primitive stare. Pennybard was quiet.


    Erika shakily took in a breath and lowered her extinguished arrow. ¡°That sword¡­ to me, it looks-¡±


    The swordsman scoffed, glaring at the other two humans. ¡°So you surrender?¡± he said, a hint of hurt in his voice. ¡°Conner is dead.¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG began a slow approach.


    Kinjo shook himself out of bewilderment. ¡°There¡¯s no use in attacking, Ike. We don¡¯t stand a chance¡­ ¡± The mage had gone pale since he¡¯d seen the monster¡¯s info, his trap having utterly failed.


    Step.


    Ike stiffened his posture in an effort to become more imposing ¡ª something which might deter an animal or lesser monster, but here and now¡­


    Step.


    Erika struggled her gaze away from the monster and looked at the swordsman sympathetically. ¡°Please, Ike. Just drop your sword. There might be a way to-¡±


    Ike lunged forward with all his strength, poised to bisect BEEADDLEDRUNG.


    Then there was the clamor of a desperate wrestle, the twisting of joints, and finally a pained yell. The swordsman was tossed aside, slid, and rolled along the parched soil, quenching it with blood. The beast took Ike¡¯s sword and compared it to the hero¡¯s sword for a moment before throwing it over his shoulder. Clang.


    Step.


    And already now it seemed that this fiend loomed over Erika. She could not look up anymore. Regret and fear tugged her attention toward the ground. She¡¯d taken her party into the southern Badlands for the sake of some longshot, high-stakes bounty and it had gotten them killed. She wondered if this BEEADDLEDRUNG was even the intended target or a pawn of fate, some thing that had come wandering out of the old kingdom to deliver death. It¡­ purred above her before speaking.


    ¡°Continue,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said plainly.


    ¡°...never seen a sword like that. I swear. I¡¯m an archer, anyway¡­ but Ike ¡ª he¡¯s dead now ¡ª I doubt he¡¯d have known either. To me, it looks foreign. I think you may be right that it belonged to someone famous. But word doesn¡¯t travel like it used to. Would you know anything about that? What are you, anyways? Is this our punishment? I-¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s rambling, master,¡± Pennybard hissed. ¡°I think you should just cut her off.¡± It suddenly occurred to Erika that she was sweating profusely and had the performative smile of a hostage on her face. Her bow fell to the ground.


    Cursed fey, Kinjo muttered spitefully. ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± he cut in, ¡°it does look foreign. Only a specialist could tell you where it came from, I reckon.¡± Erika looked into Kinjo¡¯s eyes and her expression wavered between hopeful and terrified. ¡°Which¡­ neither of us are.¡±


    Step.


    ¡°But!¡± he added, and fell to his knees in surrender with his hands folded before him, ¡°We know where you can find one. They''re nearby. And we could take you to them.¡± He let out an exhausted sigh, his desperate proposal now laid out.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG eyed the two for a while. He wondered which one would break first. The archer was already close it seemed, but the mage¡¯s composure was clearly fragile. They both held on longer than his patience.


    ¡°Hmm. I doubt your specialist would like the sight of me very much,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said. His hastily regenerated form was obviously further from human than his usual. The garments which masked some of his figure had been destroyed, too. ¡°No, even if you introduced me, it might play out uglier than this did. Am I right, Penny?¡±


    Pennybard was delighted to help steer his master¡¯s will. ¡°So right, master,¡± he chimed. ¡°I think your patience has rewarded you well with the information they¡¯ve given, but they can be of no more use. It would be dangerous to leave them alive, or even to leave their remains out in the daylight. You should get rid of them.¡±


    ¡°Dangerous? Your cowardice is what keeps you in that cage, Pennybard,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG mocked. ¡°Leaving survivors is a courtesy of mine, and I think that today I am feeling generous. I will eat neither.¡± The imp frowned while the two humans sighed quietly in relief. Before they could feel too grateful, dark tendrils coiled around their ankles and dragged them forward.


    Erika grasped quickly for her bow, aimed an arrow at the monster, and let fly as she slid. The flat edge of Finale, the hero¡¯s sword, clanged hard against her temple and sent her into a deep sleep.


    ¡°Why lie about leaving us alive?¡± Kinjo asked weakly.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG pulled the arrow tip from his thick skin, broke the shaft, and let the pieces flutter to the ground. It hadn¡¯t drawn blood. ¡°To give you hope. But I was not lying, exactly. The woman will live.¡± A black puddle began to form beneath the mage. He could see it gathering around his prone body and there was an icy chill surging through his back. Whispers and moans of lament rose out of the abyss. Then his consciousness began to sink slowly into that dark space and it felt like he was fainting.


    ¡°You got me with that blue fire,¡± Kinjo heard BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s voice, faint as if from a great distance away. The bogeyman¡¯s yellow eyes looked like fiery stars from within the darkness. ¡°That was well done. It stung. It ruined my favorite coat and my favorite skin. So I¡¯m going to adopt yours.¡±


    At this point Kinjo felt disconnected from the world above and that horrifying encounter. As he sank deeper, the ghostly noise got louder: Help me, my child is still out there! Were the dead pleading with him? He could offer no help. It hurts, it hurts! So much anguish in their voices. And now it seemed that uncountable pale faces like tragic masks lined an invisible cylinder in the abyss. A bearded face looked desperately at Kinjo. Kinjo, I can¡¯t see anything! Where are the others? The mage tried to answer his friend, but he choked on the gelatinous air. Then something snapped, and the world above seemed to bounce out of sight, and a boisterous laughter filled the darkness as Kinjo saw his own body leaving him to die. Whether the laughter came from him, or BEEADDLEDRUNG, or something deep, deep below, he could not tell. But it took him.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    A tough one, huh, Erika? Kinjo mused, and fell.


    ¡ª


    Pennybard was filled with curiosity and horror as, from the spot where his cage had been set, he watched BEEADDLEDRUNG twist and go limp. For a moment he hoped that his master had indeed perished, but then the bogeyman¡¯s body started to spasm as his great bones dislocated and wound themselves into a heap. The shadows were hard at work incising the mage¡¯s body and unfolding it all over so that BEEADDLEDRUNG could wear it. They dragged the swordsman¡¯s body near and kept it in case filler-flesh was needed. It was. Once the skin was sufficiently prepared, the monster¡¯s sallow bones and grey-blue organs exploded from his discarded body in a rush of vomit and entered their new vessel. His dirty blood singed its new blanket and a smoky cloud of purple reek rose out like a belch. Erika, still asleep, turned over and winced in unconscious disgust. A fresh pile of Ike¡¯s inner flesh was laid and patted atop the vessel until the bubbling and occasional bursts of gas and fluid ceased, and then the shadows coiled, swooning, round it and did something which Pennybard thought must be salivating. The imp felt fire from his belly tickle his throat as the unholy mass throbbed, throbbed, and went silent.


    A naked human arm thrust itself out of the pile and felt at the dark membrane which encased it. Then another arm came. The fumbling appendages poked for the ground and then gripped it and pulled hard.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG burst from his cocoon. The change in his form was great enough to make Pennybard question his identity. What was once a monster was now a naked man, coughing feebly. The man crawled over to a crimson blood pool leftover from the battle, puked into it, and slowly stood. He looked down into the puddle with his back hunched unnaturally before muttering in a low voice. The shadows whispered back, and tufts of black hair began to squeeze themselves out from his skin until his scalp was fully adorned, his body more sparsely. With one last spasm, his spine slithered into its correct position and he stood twitching for a moment.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG spoke: ¡°Penny bard.¡± His cadence was off. ¡°Pnnybrd.¡± He took some time to practice moving his new vocal chords before trying again. ¡°Pennybard. Aha!¡±


    The man turned. An exaggerated smile was on his face. ¡°New skin, Pennybard! I feel fresh.¡± He danced about the area either as an expression of joy or in an attempt to grow more accustomed to his new motor functions. Before long his foot slid into a patch of afterbirth and he slipped. The imp heard a painful crack. BEEADDLEDRUNG said nothing at first.


    Then, ¡°repair,¡± he commanded, and the shadows tucked the broken bone back into his leg and kissed the wound shut. ¡°What a fragile body. No wonder it¡¯s so easy to toy with them.¡± Pennybard squinted at the man.


    ¡°Sire?¡± the imp asked with a tone of something like doubt.


    ¡°Yes. It is I, BEEADDLEDRUNG. I¡¯ve adopted that human¡¯s body and now it is mine, another item in my collection, just like-¡±


    ¡°Sire,¡± Pennybard interrupted. ¡°Pardon my insolence, but could you please clothe yourself as soon as possible?¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG tilted his head in confusion before nodding. ¡°Ah, yes. The disguise is not complete without that.¡± He moved to where Kinjo¡¯s removed outfit lay and started to pull the clothes onto his new body. They were tight, but not uncomfortably so, as they had been baggy on their previous wearer. Altogether there was a light, hooded cloak the color of pine needles, pieces of leather connected by straps which must have been a sort of armor along with worn brown boots, and some cozy woolen pants with cuffs just below BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s knees. Of course, there were some undergarments as well, but it did not feel right to adopt these, either because they would deprive the bogeyman of a degree of freedom or because they¡¯d been used. Pinned to one of the leather straps of the armor was some kind of badge with numerals stitched onto it.


    Pennybard was still surprised by the success of that horrific experiment. BEEADDLEDRUNG now looked very similar to the man whose skin he had taken, but was some inches taller and had the bulk of a martial fighter. His skin only bore the slight discoloration that a mild sickness might bring, as did the whites of his eyes. His irises were flecked with bronze in contrast to the man''s original plain brown, probably the most unnatural deviation, but they could be excused as a high-born trait. Black hair fell from his head like tendrils to meet an unkempt beard.


    The bogeyman plucked his keyring off the chain wrapped around his bestial corpse and attached it to a strap on his waist, then hauled that huge sword up from the ground and strapped it to his back. He eyed his old self with pity. ¡°When is the last time you did any tailoring, Penny? The shadows are tired,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said. The dark presence around him had lessened significantly since that awful surgery, and now it was hidden.


    ¡°Will you let me out for a little? I am as good a tailor as ever,¡± Pennybard asked eagerly, winding his little arm around at the shoulder as if to loosen it up. He wanted to dash around in the air and look along the horizon, barren though the land was. His wings were sore from disuse.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG took the cage in one hand and unlocked it with the other, leaving the door to creak open. ¡°Go ahead and fly. I need you to make me something nice out of that old skin,¡± he said. ¡°Just clean it up so I can wear it like a coat.¡± The imp nodded and flew free, and as soon as he thought time to escape while the shadows sleep, BEEADDLEDRUNG added: ¡°But do not fly away from me. Do not forget your pledge.¡± Pennybard shuddered, sputtered, and almost crashed. He felt tethered to BEEADDLEDRUNG.


    ¡ª


    It was not even midday by the time BEEADDLEDRUNG had scoured the supplies leftover by the fallen party and prepared to resume his journey. Pennybard was nearly done sewing his master¡¯s moult into a thick cloak. It looked like the pelt of a mythic beast quilted with patches and strips of fine fabric. When the imp crawled underneath it to finalize some interior stitching, he felt a chill as of a dense forest¡¯s shade from the sun. BEEADDLEDRUNG, who was somewhat upset to have found no keys among the luggage or choice meat leftover from his shapeshifting, was delighted to see the cloak his pet had designed for him. Pennybard thought that his master must have been the happiest he had ever seen him. He was rewarded for his handicraft with a heaping helping of fire and smoke, Ignis¡¯ savory ambrosia, which he feasted on till his little muscles inflated and his belly grew fat. When it was time for him to return to his cage, he had to squeeze in. He was too satisfied with his meal to feel uncomfortable, though. He had been starved for so long within that old mansion.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG thought about something one of those men had said, about bugbears being extinct ¡ª it was a word he didn¡¯t know, but it sounded to him like extinguish, so he reasoned that it meant dead. If this was his own doing, the result of his territorial phase long ago, he couldn¡¯t remember. He thought that perhaps the hero had killed them all as an act of indirect vengeance, and that he was saving the bogeyman for last.


    ¡°We are heading that way, Penny: towards the greener lands, and as quick as these legs will carry us. I am eager to get on with dying.¡±


    Refreshed by the morning¡¯s skirmish with a renewed sense of dominance, BEEADDLEDRUNG sprung into a jog towards his destination.


    [ALERT! PRISONER: YOUR PARTY IS OVERDUE FOR A STATUS UPDATE. PROMPTLY REPORT YOUR STATUS. A REPO FORCE WILL BE DEPLOYED ERE NIGHTFALL PENDING YOUR COMPLIANCE.]


    The voice rattled within BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s skull and sent him into a feverish panic. What devilry!? he cursed and shot Pennybard an accusatory look.


    ¡°Master?¡± the imp asked nervously, perking up from his snooze.


    ¡°Something is talking in my head. It¡¯s my head and they¡¯re talking. How stupid,¡± the bogeyman complained. ¡°We will have to hurry. I think they have sent for help, somehow.¡± He turned his eyes wrathfully to the archer. She was still unconscious, but tossing uneasily in the dirt. The existence of the voice threatened BEEADDLEDRUNG (his mind had never been invaded) such that he didn¡¯t kill the woman now, thinking that might escalate things.


    Fear of the voice only fueled him as sped towards the edge of the Badlands, where the earth became livelier and the air less dry. His sprint kicked up a long dust cloud and shook Pennybard¡¯s cage violently. The imp and his master¡¯s good moods were both ended and replaced with a lingering unease. Status update? BEEADDLEDRUNG thought, I¡¯m coming to eat you sorry lot, that¡¯s what. Voice in my head! I will have no voices but mine.

 Chapter 4 - Prisoners

    As the day crawled on and the landscape with it, BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s state of mind shifted. He had much time to think. If the ¡°repofores¡± that the strange intruder mentioned earlier were sent to find him, it seemed impossible that they¡¯d identify him as the beast who partook in a meal of human flesh out in the desert, which meant he could avoid open hostility. Then again, the voice called him ¡°prisoner,¡± something he was appalled to think might apply to himself. Although the previous owner of his new skin may have been some kind of prisoner, the fact that the humans he¡¯d encountered had been wandering out in the wild contradicted that.


    Pennybard¡¯s the most prisoner-like, in his cage there! he realized, and for the rest of the hike he suspected his pet, the apparent true target of those demands, of having played dumb when the voice called out. But whether that message was for Pennybard or What¡¯s-Its-Face, BEEADDLEDRUNG began to feel something like envy ¡ª he felt like his own notoriety had been encroached upon. According to those humans, nobody even knew his name anymore. The woman will now, at least, he comforted himself, but he felt a quiet angst from his shrunken shadow. As daylight trickled away into dusk over the softening terrain, which was becoming fuller of life and reminded him of the past, BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s thoughtful jaunt reached its conclusion. Skidding to a clumsy stop on his new used human boots, he shook Pennybard awake and pointed ahead at a large wooden mass.


    Tucked between some high hills with sheer faces was a settlement, a city, busy and loud even so near sunset. Upon the easternmost hill was a tower, the only sight here familiar to BEEADDLEDRUNG. Back when he had wandered out this way and eventually come upon the village where the hero met him, he¡¯d found an outpost, a Tower of Watch, and lurked nearby a few times to snatch a snack. It was easy pickings since the location was remote and, back then, undermanned. Although he often wondered if he was strong enough to eat the whole royal army, individual soldiers never stood much of a chance against the monster, even when he chose not to use spells or shadows for the fun of it. The area now looked like it might indeed contain all the king¡¯s soldiers. The old Tower did remain, but it had been bolstered with high battlemented walls of large hewn stones surrounding its base, and there appeared to be a swarm of smaller towers encircling it now.


    The strangest addition was what seemed like a large fire lit in a chamber at the top under a conical roof, fueled by something which burned bright as the sun. From the fire was sent a stream of light that reached far past the edge of the city and rolled slowly around. It was like a limb stretched out of the heavens to feel the shape of the earth. As it wound its way towards BEEADDLEDRUNG, he scowled and goosebumps stiffened his hair. He felt that if it hit him, the light would expose the monstrous skeleton beneath his skin and the voice would find him and talk in his head forever. He would have to navigate out of its path.


    ¡°It¡¯s no wonder we¡¯ve seen no trees, my lord,¡± Pennybard creaked, his voice still sleepy. ¡°It appears that they¡¯ve all been cut down and hauled here.¡± Even at this hour, men could be seen carrying twisted old tree trunks into the city gates in file.


    The city itself, which even snaked up along the hills before connecting to the tower complex at their summit, was like a leafless forest. Walls framed with many overturned logs and broad planks entrapped countless wooden buildings, some seemingly piled atop each other. There could be seen a whole canopy of roofs shingled with green clay, dotted with stout chimneys that spat out smoke. It looked to the imp like a fortress, except that the gate and the walls and the windows of buildings within bore firm root-like bars, dead and gnarled and grey. This place was an enormous cage.


    ¡°Prisoners,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said, gesturing towards the bustle along the walls. Not only were there workers, but also parties returning to the gates from different directions. Some were being dragged in. One party, heavily armed and armored, hustled out of the gate to some mission.


    ¡°Luna¡¯s silence,¡± BEEADLEDRUNG whispered. Asking for favors left a bad taste in his mouth, but that was the way of spells.


    No response.


    ¡°You must be more polite, master,¡± Pennybard said. ¡°We¡¯re nearing Luna¡¯s hours.¡±


    The bogeyman sighed. ¡°O beautiful Luna, may I please have the power of silence immediately?¡± Still no response, maybe even less of one.


    ¡°Damned moon.¡±


    Pennybard stifled a laugh at his captor¡¯s failure. ¡°This is the result of prolonged neglect, master. It¡¯s been too long since you asked favors of Luna or offered any blood ¡ª and that is her favorite offering¡­¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG snarled. ¡°The shadows only ever want what I want, that¡¯s why I like them better. But if she wants blood, here is blood,¡± he declared, and bent off a fragile finger in anger. Dark blood streamed from the human appendage and onto the scrubby weeds in the dirt. ¡°Silence. Stupid moon.¡±


    There was a sound like a glass throat inhaling, and then a shroud of eerie quiet was placed over BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s person, along with a hint of contempt. This amused Pennybard. The bogeyman was eager to put his shadow back to work and have his finger repaired, but its presence had receded even more. He let out an annoyed grunt and pocketed the finger-stump to stop it from bleeding too much before proceeding.


    The Tower¡¯s beam was enormous considering how far away it was, but moved slowly. It wasn¡¯t very difficult for BEEADDLEDRUNG to close in on the city gates without being noticed. He crouched as low as his human legs could bend, kept within dense patches of brush (these were still pretty meager) and stalked over to the furthest portion of the wall from the gate. Then, after waiting for an opening, he skulked along the wall right up to the colossal prison¡¯s front door. A grinding sound could be heard as the outer gate was shut, its dead roots digging deep into the ground. The inner gate was still open, and an anticipatory silence hung in the air.


    ¡°Halt! Show yourself,¡± a voice rang out. This was no mental intruder ¡ª it came from a lone armored figure up on a platform above the gate. If there were others, they were out of sight from BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s position against the wall, and didn¡¯t speak.


    ¡°Seen!?¡± said a shocked BEEADDLEDRUNG. His heart sank, and he felt more exposed than he could recall ever feeling. Once a furtive king, his many idle years had reduced him to a fumbling oaf, the kind caught in the middle of the night with a snack hanging halfway out of his mouth. He shriveled so much in posture that he nearly became part of the wall.


    Pennybard¡¯s beady eyes peered intently through the bars of his cage. ¡°No sire, not seen. If anything, heard, but that couldn¡¯t be. Look!¡±


    Amidst the chill evening breeze there swelled the sound of labored breathing, which grew more intense until, as it reached its peak, a yell resounded. Black birds with deep, woody caws scattered from their perches on the battlements as arrows zipped by them. They found their marks in the limbs of a man lying in the dirt some distance from the gates. He appeared to have been hiding crouched between some bushes, and made an effort to escape the arrows by diving out of the way. A pathetic gurgling noise passed out of his throat as he attempted to crawl away in spite of his wounds, but the outer gate was raised and two large men in thorny black armor rushed out. They held wooden staves with leaden clubs at their end, and used these to beat the man. He looked small and thin, could even have passed for a corpse if his clothes weren¡¯t so clean ¡ª and if, as was surprising to BEEADDLEDRUNG and Pennybard, he did not yell and stab ferociously at the guards¡¯ shins with an unveiled shiv. The weapon dinged uselessly against the armor until one of the guards kicked the man in the jaw, which ended his fit. The guards and their captive returned through the gates, which stayed open behind them.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Bahahaha! He made a good go of it, boys!¡± the figure atop the gate platform said, eliciting some collective laughter from behind. ¡°Looked li¡¯ a fuckin¡¯ caterpillar, that one!¡± said another. ¡°¡®elp me! ¡®elp me!¡± This mockery ignited even more laughter. Caught in a strange wave of relief, BEEADDLEDRUNG laughed along. ¡°What is a caterpillar, Pennybard?¡±


    ¡°Shush, you¡­¡± Pennybard held his tongue, ¡°Er, pardon me, master. It may close again. Now¡¯s our chance!¡± He gestured at the gate with a dart-like finger. ¡°Enter like those other prisoners did: act like you¡¯re returning from some business. And do not acknowledge what just happened!¡±


    ¡°I am no prisoner,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG grumbled as he kicked off the wall and moved for the gates. As he got close, he could see that there were two more guards within the entrance in regular metal armor holding tall spears. Through their helmets could be seen puckered faces ¡ª they may have been squinting in suspicion, holding in laughter, or both.


    ¡°In, then. In you go,¡± said one of the guards, who tilted his spear towards the inner gate. The fragile silence from before had returned, and the guards up on the battlements glared down at BEEADDLEDRUNG. Meanwhile, two more prisoners exhaustedly hurried past from behind.


    Casting off Luna¡¯s silence with a shattering sound, BEEADDLEDRUNG looked up at the guards who¡¯d been joking and saluted. Pennybard cringed. ¡°Well done,¡± the bogeyman said in a tone of voice he¡¯d call ¡°chipper.¡± He pointed a thumb over his cloaked shoulder at the sparse trail of blood leftover from the altercation. ¡°He hardly got out the door!¡±


    The frontmost guard looked puzzled and angry, and spat a globule of phlegm down from the wall. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± he said.


    Before BEEADDLEDRUNG could repeat the name declaration he¡¯d made that same morning, a gate guard commanded him again: ¡°You deaf? Get¡®nside,¡± and moved to prod him with his spear.


    ¡°We were planning on going in anyway, right master?¡± Pennybard whispered, cooling BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s temper somewhat.


    I¡¯ll raze the whole thing from inside, thought the monster from within his pleasant shell. ¡°Sorry,¡± he strained to say. ¡°Long journey.¡± With that, he shuffled his tense body inside, and a bell tolled a loud, low note into the deepening night. The gates shut behind him, and he entered the City of Bounties.


    ¡ª


    Just within the gates stood a crowd of tents and people. Flickering torches cast the area in a jittery orange hue, and moving bodies threw stretched shadows all around. The tents were strangely colorful and tastefully erected, albeit haphazardly, and something about the prisoners was uncharacteristically unreserved. It may have been their harsh, lively voices, or their unique styles of dress, or the diverse tasks they were performing. In fact, BEEADDLEDRUNG considered momentarily that he had stepped out of a prison rather than into one. A city of specialists, it looks like, he thought. But almost everyone had on a numbered badge, and those tall guards in black were about, pacing around and glancing at each person. One came so suddenly from a crevasse between passersby that it seemed they had just appeared next to BEEADDLEDRUNG, and stared through the shade of its mask at his adopted badge.


    ¡°Number 13,¡± came the guard¡¯s cold voice. ¡°You¡¯re on the repossession list for suspected desertion¡­ Where is the rest of your party?¡±


    It took a moment for BEEADDLEDRUNG to register that he was being spoken to, especially because it seemed the guard was looking through him. He felt, too, that what he had heard was like a different language ¡ª this wasn¡¯t the kind of direct conversation, usually with scared and hasty humans, that he was used to.


    He turned to face the guard. ¡°Hmm?¡±


    The guard stood silent for a moment, looked to and fro, and then grabbed BEEADDLEDRUNG by the wrist. Before he could react, the bogeyman had been yanked through the crowd into an alleyway further inside the city. Only as he was removed from the tent-filled space did he note a confusing dissonance in the sounds of its inhabitants. There were the muffled screams of wounded prisoners being treated, the grim laughter of folk keenly aware of their captivity but nonetheless cheerful, and yells of disputing patrons and peddlers. A sour defiance hung on them all, but now that ambience was muted. Two figures scoffed and filed out of the alleyway flicking embers onto brick-paved ground.


    The guard removed its helmet ¡ª it was a woman with black hair cut short, her muddy eyes flashing concern. She looked BEEADDLEDRUNG up and down, and the worry in her face increased as she observed his big cloak and sword and saw Pennybard at his waist.


    ¡°Kinjo¡­ what¡¯s all this?¡± She shook her head as if to clear it. ¡°Where are Ike and Conner?¡± Her voice turned grave. ¡°Where¡¯s Erika?¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG felt a sort of pressure alien to him that made him chuckle. The guard backed away a bit at this. Not like I¡¯m going to eat her, the bogeyman thought, although now he considered it. He thought about how he should respond.


    ¡°They¡¯re gone,¡± he stated, completely stoic.


    The guard¡¯s face filled with emotion and she examined BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s person again. He looked tall against the sliver of black sky outside the alley and his face was stony. The creature he held caged seemed panicked and stupid, pressed against the bars. The guard sighed, lunged forward,


    and embraced BEEADDLEDRUNG.


    ¡°You look really rattled,¡± she said softly. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Kinjo. I¡¯m glad you made it back.¡± After pulling away, she looked downcast and a fury entered her eyes. ¡°The Keepers and their fucking suicide bounties. What false hope¡­¡± Her arms hung limply and tears glazed her eyes as she began to process the loss of her friends.


    Being squeezed made the monster want to squirm, but for some reason he endured it. It seemed that he¡¯d avoided suspicion for now, but he had no idea how to respond, and so looked down at Pennybard.


    Pennybard, annoyed at his inability to speak in this situation, rolled his little eyes and began to mime advice to his master. He pointed at his horned noggin and then made an X with his arms.


    Ah, okay, BEEADDLEDRUNG thought. He looked at the guard again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He rubbed his head. ¡°I am very stupid. Could you explain all of this to me?¡±


    She looked puzzled. Pennybard coughed up some smoke to get his master¡¯s attention and vigorously shook his head. This time he contorted his face into an expression of hyperbolic confusion, clutching his chin and squinting around.


    ¡°Ah, I mean¡­¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG revised, ¡°I can¡¯t remember anything. I do not know what happened.¡± A squeaky sigh of relief came from Pennybard. The guard looked doubtful for a moment, but then grabbed BEEADDLEDRUNG by the wrist again.


    ¡°You¡¯re clearly shaken up,¡± she said, her face turned away. ¡°Let¡¯s get you some food and drink¡­ we can figure things out in the morning.¡±


    The bogeyman thought of flaky, moist, crummy, bland human food with disgust. He had no desire to dine on moldy bread or to drink frothy bitter water, and he had no desire to be dragged around by some woman, but the newness of it all roused a strange curiosity in him, and his shadow dragged limply behind. Even his hunt for a specialist he temporarily put aside as he felt himself become immersed in fresh excitement. It was as if his youth had been restored and he was a new bogeyman on a slow-paced, undercover mission for a fine meal. He salivated as the pair exited the alley and went deeper into the city.

 Chapter 5 - Bounties

    The city interior was as labyrinthine as it looked from the outside. Its stalk-like wooden buildings spiraled recklessly upwards ¡ª high enough that it seemed like minor tremors might topple them ¡ª and were strewn about as if they¡¯d been tossed down the slopes of the hills by an earth giant. This made for irregular, claustrophobic streets (barring a few main ways), one of which BEEADDLEDRUNG was being tugged through. In spite of the strange design of things, or perhaps the complete lack of design, the inhabitants seemed to be thriving. The people were loud, much louder than anything BEEADDLEDRUNG was used to hearing, and spoke in a dialect that made the monster imagine they all had mouths full of food. He noted that he¡¯d only heard humans speak like this since he¡¯d left his lair, and curiosity scattered his attention throughout the stream of bodies during this brief transit.


    ¡°Only sixty stars left on me,¡± spoke one voice among the crowd. It was deep and slightly strained.


    ¡°Only sixty stars, he says. Yer a hoot, Halfen. Better keep out o¡¯ trouble,¡± said another voice after a laugh. The sound of this one reminded BEEADDLEDRUNG of those desert birds. ¡°But maybe trouble¡¯ll just find you¡­¡± the voice continued, and then there was some scuffling and laughter, as if a fight had broken out but its participants were somehow enjoying themselves. BEEADDLEDRUNG thought of the hero as the voices passed out of earshot.


    ¡°Doot duh-doo, doot duh-doo, doo la la,¡± a high, frilly voice came from ahead. It sounded to BEEADLEDRUNG about as nonsensical as Pennybard¡¯s night time rhymes. ¡°Doo la la l-¡±


    ¡°Shut up. Please, please, just shut up. All day, I swear. This is the last time I¡¯m going to allow myself to be partnered with you,¡± said another close by. There was some silence between the two. ¡°¡­care if I have to cut his throat¡­¡± the speaker continued under his breath.


    ¡°You¡¯re no fun at all, Vyn-Vyn,¡± the other voice replied, still somewhat sing-song. ¡°Nope. A total buzzkill. That¡¯s why you¡¯re soooo lonely, huh? Or is it the other way around?¡± This seemed to strike a chord. ¡°I¡¯ll pretend I didn¡¯t hear you threaten Leader,¡± she said before he could snap back. And with that she continued singing.


    Lots of them in groups, the bogeyman observed. Will be hard to corner any one.


    ¡°Kinjo?¡±


    The guard had stopped guiding BEEADDLEDRUNG after reaching a crossing in the road. Here it was less cramped, and it seemed that anyone nearby was in one of a few buildings with bright, foggy windows.


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ drooling.¡± She pulled out a sweat-dampened rag from some notch in her armor and wiped BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s mouth. ¡°We¡¯re basically here, right?¡± she said with a forced liveliness. ¡°Come on.¡± Her gauntleted hand reached out to grab his again and she pulled him near a building on the corner.


    This one was stout compared to its neighbors, and it had a quiet air about it ¡ª not as if it was empty, but rather full of many contemplative bodies. Its planked walls were a dark, time-worn brown, and from an arched, greenish metal limb that shot out from above the front door dangled a weathered, sandy sign: Welcome Inn (& Lounge).


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± The guard stopped before the door. She thought it looked kind of depressing.


    ¡°What is this?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.


    The guard gave another sad look, then a light, anxious chuckle. ¡°This is one of your favorite haunts, isn¡¯t it? You always call it that, because¡­¡± She waited to hear the punchline from Kinjo.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG was quiet.


    ¡°Well, because it kind of seems... haunted, right?¡± she finished sheepishly. ¡°Not as funny when I say it.¡±


    There was a deep gloom in the woman¡¯s eyes that the bogeyman hadn¡¯t noticed before since she¡¯d been faced forwards, pacing without pause. He tried to discern what she was feeling, but after staring for a moment, he felt his own eyes sting. That¡¯s when he remembered ¡ª humans needed to blink! He must not have blinked more than a few times since adopting human skin.


    The guard¡¯s face turned even more forlorn as she watched the tears stream from her companion¡¯s eyes. He rubbed them vigorously and blinked a bunch, but droplets still hung onto his eyelashes and glittered in the lantern light.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be okay. I¡¯m still having trouble processing it, but¡­ gods, you were there.¡± Now tears flowed from her eyes, too, and her expression grew scrunched as she held in sobs. ¡°Erika¡­ how could this happen?¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG was shocked. What had triggered this? He¡¯d been cried at before, usually during mealtime, or even cried about, when survivors of his attacks relayed their experiences, but he had never been cried with. It felt wrong.


    ¡°Stop,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said. His eyes were still watery, but his expression was placid.


    The guard¡¯s face slowly stiffened, and she sniffled. ¡°¡­you¡¯re strong, Kinjo,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ll be strong, too.¡±


    She made for the door to the Welcome Inn, but before she could pull the latch and lead BEEADDLEDRUNG inside, she spotted something that made her jump. Two more sentinels in full black armor strode down the lane to the left. Evening stragglers who loitered outside quickly entered nearby buildings. The woman hastily equipped her helmet, which had been latched to her waist, and approached BEEADDLEDRUNG again. ¡°Damn it, damn it,¡± she muttered, and then sighed deeply and shakily.


    ¡°I know that this is the worst time, but I need to report back. I¡¯ve already received a warning thanks to our Resup Day shenanigans¡­¡± Her eyes were obscured by her helmet, but it was clear that she wasn¡¯t making eye contact. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay. Just eat something and then get some sleep. I¡¯ll find you in the morning, and, at least¡­ you can cash in that bounty alone.¡± Her voice was steely again.


    Only now, as she turned to leave, did she see the dark stain around BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s cloak pocket where he kept his wounded hand. ¡°You¡¯re still bleeding,¡± she started, but then one of the approaching guards said ¡°Hail!¡± and she hurried away.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG felt rid of a burden, but some other feeling was also welling up inside of him. He was fine with casting a burden away, but having one taken from him, as the woman was by those guards, didn¡¯t sit right.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t learn that one¡¯s name,¡± he said aloud.


    Pennybard had on a serious face. He broke his silence, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll meet her again.¡±


    ¡°I wonder,¡± responded BEEADDLEDRUNG. ¡°Where to, my Penny? You must know cities better than I do.¡± With this he laughed his true, mean laugh.


    The imp gave a sarcastic breath in response. ¡°This is a sham of a city. It looks more like a giant lavatory, to me,¡± he said as he studied the crossing. ¡°Master,¡± he began after a pause, ¡°you¡¯ll find much food and drink around here, I¡¯m sure. Of course, not the kind you favor, but I think it¡¯s best that you continue to blend in.¡±


    ¡°Blend in¡­¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said thoughtfully. ¡°Talk to more people, then?¡± He was unsure of this. It was taxing.


    ¡°Are you scared?¡± Pennybard said sharply. It was brash to challenge the monster like this, but now and then ¡ª


    ¡°I am not scared. I¡¯ll talk to them all, till I find the specialist, and the hero, and die,¡± the beast bragged.


    It bore results.


    ¡°Very well, my king,¡± said Pennybard, ¡°but you might need to sleep somewhere in between.¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG stomped toward the loudest building in the vicinity.


    ¡ªIf you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The hefty double doors of the Lioneer flung open. Flagons full of froth clung to thirsty lips throughout the tavern for just one extra, uncomfortable moment before all conversations resumed heedlessly. A few patrons still looked at the bedraggled figure who¡¯d just made a scene coming in, alone. It just wasn¡¯t something you did at the Lioneer, if you were a regular ¡ª busting both doors open all dramatically like that. Drunken newbies made that mistake from time to time, though, so it wasn¡¯t a huge deal. For newbies, it was not, but for-


    ¡°Kinjo Hellfingers,¡± a thick, raunchy looking man shouted out. He was standing right outside of a booth, his arms outstretched. It might have been endearing if his expression weren¡¯t so snide. ¡°That¡¯s what they call you, innit?¡±


    The room quieted down a bit as BEEADDLEDRUNG walked right up to the man. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m called Kinjo,¡± he stated. ¡°What are you called?¡±


    Someone seated further inside the room chuckled. ¡°He wants to know what you¡¯re called!¡± they mocked.


    The man wiped some froth from his goatee and scraped his hand on the stubble which lined his cheeks. He winced and smiled simultaneously. ¡°I¡¯m called Orval, ya son-of-a-bitch,¡± he slurred. ¡°We¡¯ve met.¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG looked contemplative. ¡°I don¡¯t remember,¡± he said.


    At this, a couple groups of nearby patrons laughed and cringed half-sarcastically at Orval, who looked dumbfounded. His flushed face turned a slightly deeper red.


    ¡°Where¡¯s yer golden lass at, wizzerd?¡± Orval spat. Someone gasped in jest and choked for a moment on their drink. ¡°I remember her,¡± he teased, and made some kind of monkeyish display about his chest. ¡°She¡¯s a looker. You been usin¡¯ those Hellfingers on her?¡± The booths around Orval were still laughing, but sounded slightly uneasy, and a few displeased grunts or scoffs could be heard near the bar. Most conversations were hushed now, and many expectant glances were aimed at BEEADDLEDRUNG.


    The bogeyman looked at his bloody pocket. ¡°I gave a finger earlier, if that¡¯s what you mean,¡± he said as the joke eluded him.


    Orval grinned and looked around the room to draw attention to this response, eliciting laughter from even the far end of the bar. ¡°This guy,¡± he began. BEEADDLEDRUNG at least realized that he was the butt of a joke now and his nose wrinkled in distaste.


    ¡°You¡¯re one to joke about nicknames, Orval,¡± came a voice, clear but unsure, from the center of the bar. Someone of medium stature was seated between two empty stools. They wore a boxy brown cloak that looked soaked with rain. ¡°I heard¡­ th-that they used to call you oval¡­ back when you looked just like an egg.¡± The tide turned against Orval with this remark, and even the patrons at his booth stifled laughter.


    ¡°Who!? Who called me that,¡± Orval yelled, clumsily looking around. The patrons had mostly returned to their conversations, though. ¡°I¡¯ve lost weight,¡± he comforted himself. The bogeyman snickered at his opponent.


    Before the man could continue to berate him, a body brushed past BEEADDLEDRUNG, and in a low voice said, ¡°Come on, over here.¡±


    Excited and off his guard, he followed the body to a corner table. It gestured to a seat and he took it, still smiling. His smile faded when he saw two worried faces seated across from him, and the body sat down and showed another. Three more humans who expected to be recognized. BEEADDLEDRUNG puffed hot air out his nose. He wanted to groan.


    ¡°Kinjo,¡± said the one who¡¯d escorted him over. It was a young man with a mild face, high-cut black hair, and blue eyes. He looked noble to BEEADDLEDRUNG, whatever that meant, but he was dressed in meager attire. ¡°Look at me.¡± He looked into the monster¡¯s human eyes for what felt like a long time, and BEEADDLEDRUNG remembered the bright light outside the city and felt Pennybard grow hot in alarm at his waist. But then the man withdrew. ¡°Hallows,¡± he sighed, and looked over at someone across the table.


    It was a woman too young to have such grey hair. Her expression was mostly stoic and her eyes were idly wide, but concern did tug at her face. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve been through hell,¡± she said. She sounded bored or tired, but nonetheless sympathetic.


    ¡°Looks like he took some o¡¯ hell with him,¡± the last stranger said. This one was wearing a hood even indoors, and their face was hard to make out aside from some silvery stubble. They nodded their chin at BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s extravagant cloak.


    The three shuffled awkwardly. ¡°What¡¯s with the sword?¡± the grey-haired woman asked.


    ¡°Do you know this sword!?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG responded excitedly. It was the first thing he¡¯d spoken to this group and he nearly yelled it. His posture grew to a bestial hunch.


    ¡°No¡­ what?¡± The woman responded. ¡°I thought you hated swords ¡ª joked about how they were only carried by men who compensated for something?¡±


    The hooded man laughed reservedly in the noble man¡¯s direction. ¡°Funny,¡± the latter said after a sip of his drink. He turned to look at BEEADDLEDRUNG again. ¡°About that bounty we recommended to Erika,¡± he said, and his companions shrunk back in their chairs.


    ¡°Bounty?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked. He¡¯d heard that word a lot in this city but still didn¡¯t know it.


    ¡°That mystery bounty. Head south and capture anything out of the ordinary. Bring it back to the city for examination,¡± said the woman, ¡°Kill only if necessary.¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG thought these directions were pretty explicit for something supposed to be vague. Is that what a bounty was ¡ª directions? Then he remembered that he¡¯d come from the south, at least by his reckoning.


    ¡°What about it?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.


    The hooded man sighed. ¡°Welp, I¡¯ve gotta piss,¡± he said, and walked out a creaky door.


    The noble man continued the explanation: ¡°We heard about it through an info broker with gang connections. They were trustworthy ¡ª but at the time they only gave us some of the details: they said it¡¯d have a huge payout, that it might¡¯ve been posted by the crown.¡± He nervously ran a finger up and down on his chin. ¡°Which is why, when I told Erika about it, I said to wait on more details. To me, it looked-¡±


    ¡°Oh, take some responsibility, Heath,¡± the woman interrupted. She looked agitated now. ¡°A bounty matching that description was just posted in the city center,¡± she said to BEEADDLEDRUNG. ¡°It¡¯s a triple-skull.¡±


    Heath¡¯s eyes were fixed on the table, away from Kinjo. ¡°I was really worried after I told Erika about that ¡ª you know how rash she can be, sometimes, although she means well. But now that I¡¯ve told you, I¡¯m sure¡­¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG smiled.


    Kinjo smiled with worried eyes, his face full of tragic forgiveness.


    ¡°Heath,¡± he said. ¡°We left on that bounty more than a day ago.¡± He rubbed the pelt draped over his shoulders. ¡°I just got back.¡±


    The two others at the table grappled with the news which they guessed at but had failed to accept. ¡°Oh gods,¡± Heath breathed, ¡°that¡¯s terrible.¡± The grey-haired woman gave a defeated ahhh and spun the liquid in her mug around nervously.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG felt someone walk past carrying drinks on a tray. He plucked a flagon out of formation, leaving a gap where some patron¡¯s order should be. Before the waiter could protest, the two strangers said ¡°it¡¯s on us¡± with simultaneity and waved him away.


    The bogeyman took a long sip of the mystery cocktail in his flagon. Too long. He spat it onto the table.


    ¡°Hey, at least you¡¯re still alive,¡± the grey-haired woman said grimly.


    ¡°Milla,¡± Heath started.


    ¡°Come on, Heath. It¡¯s not like hunters don¡¯t die often.¡± She stalled for a moment, recognizing her rudeness. ¡°Sorry ¡ª but once you submit that thing you captured, Kinjo, you might even be able to buy yourself back.¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG thought that Pennybard had gone unnoticed. It only now occurred to him how conspicuous the little bat was. He shifted in his chair.


    Heath had taken a last, large draught of his drink. ¡°Hey, Kinjo. How is it that you survived, anyway?¡± he asked carefully. ¡°If anyone, I¡¯d bet on that Ike to survive. I heard he¡¯d been through some shit.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re drunk,¡± Milla said, putting a hand on Heath¡¯s shoulder. ¡°And we¡¯ve all been through some shit. Stop.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m buzzed. But hear me out,¡± Heath continued. ¡°Erika¡¯s not the kind to go down without a good fight, ¡®s because she¡¯s so bullheaded.¡± He turned to point at Kinjo. ¡°Meanwhile, Kinjo¡¯s on the scrawny side, and-¡±


    He stopped dead in his tracks and went white in the face.


    Right now, Kinjo sat higher in his seat than he had any right to. The spellsmith was the kind to lean on an arm or, if he was against a wall, lean back. He had an easygoing gait, and it was like he went out of his way to look smaller than he was just to get on someone¡¯s good side. He didn¡¯t seem to take many things seriously, but had that quality where you expected him to suddenly become reliable when the stakes turned high enough.


    This tall man really did look like Kinjo if he¡¯d been dragged through hell. His outgrown clothes hugged tightly to his muscles, muscles that would better fit a swordsman, and an odd smell hung on him. His hair had grown rampant and he¡¯d not shaved in what seemed like weeks.


    He held his drink not from the handle but by the bottom.


    ¡°Kinjo,¡± Heath said, sobering. ¡°Erika is dead.¡±


    The Lioneer, from which many patrons had already departed, turned silent.


    Maybe he would have put on a more believable performance if he knew this to be certain. After all, BEEADDLEDRUNG had realized: this Erika was the very archer he¡¯d left unconscious in the desert. He¡¯d guessed by now that she, with her luminous hair, was also the golden lass Orval had jested about. He¡¯d have been better off if he could¡¯ve realized that she was someone especially important to Kinjo and avoided Heath¡¯s scrutiny. But he only understood people''s importance in the instrumental sense, and so fell for the trap.


    ¡°Erika is dead,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG confirmed, only frowning. He put down his drink, still nearly full, and sat up. ¡°Heath, Milla ¡ª good night. Take care,¡± he said, and excused himself. He didn¡¯t feel right. Maybe it was the stuffy tavern air. Maybe he was hungry. Whatever it was, it had so pacified the shadows that not a murmur could be heard from them.

 Chapter 6 - Partners

    The cool night air refreshed BEEADDLEDRUNG, but he still felt insecure. He looked up towards the familiar black sky but found that the Tower of Watch¡¯s light overcast the deep pool of heaven, even its giddy stars, in a white haze. The moon looked jealous.


    ¡°That was a commendable performance, for a moment, master,¡± Pennybard broke the silence. ¡°However, you should be more careful ¡ª I think-¡±


    ¡°I know what you think,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG interjected. ¡°If they sniff me out, I¡¯ll just take some other skin.¡± The bogeyman huffed out a visible warm breath. A bitter taste still lingered on his tongue. He began to look all around, motivated by two conflicting urges: the urge to hide ¡ª to cast off the suspicion that he felt clinging to him ¡ª and the urge to feed. A sudden noise from beside the Lioneer piqued his attention: a rustling like a small animal scavenging. Prey.


    There was a sort of alleyway here made up of a thin space between the tavern and long, tall trough. A nostalgic fragrance of decay struggled out of the trough, and for a moment it seemed that this is where the noise had come from, but then BEEADDLEDRUNG looked to the end of the alley.


    Two figures stood hunched over a bag, shaking. No, BEEADDLEDRUNG focused. Two figures stood kicking another who was prone.


    ¡°Mouth off now, sickling,¡± teased a kicker. The kicked groaned an apology, but it went ignored.


    ¡°Wait, I heard something,¡± said the other man standing.


    Both figures turned sluggishly towards the alley¡¯s opening. Through the claustrophobic gap they saw a lone person creeping slowly near. They recognized him.


    ¡°If it i¡¯nt Hellfingers himself,¡± one said. ¡°We¡¯re just dealin¡¯ with some other trash.¡± He kicked the body again.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG stalked closer.


    ¡°Oi, oi. What¡¯s that look, Hellfingers?¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG stalked closer. A thought flashed across his eyes as he barely recognized the men ¡ª they were seated near that oaf Orval earlier. If anything, that made them better targets. Emptiness returned to his eyes and he loomed.


    ¡°Heard you let your party die,¡± the other man said nervously.


    Flop.


    Huh? Orval¡¯s lackeys were puzzled by Kinjo¡¯s stillness, but there was a sound like fruit falling.


    One of the men howled. His arm hung limp at his side, mangled backward. BEEADDLEDRUNG clicked his drooling tongue. With his old body, the arm would¡¯ve been thrown right off by his strike. He needed more time to master the human¡¯s skin.


    To his surprise, the men fled immediately. ¡°We¡¯ll loose those knights on you, Hellfingers!¡± one shouted vindictively as the other cried. ¡°You¡¯ll have double the price on your head!¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s anger flared. His dinner had just gotten away while threatening him. He¡¯d have chased them if his body didn¡¯t feel so slow, but they had also gone out into the open, where he could be seen. No, he needed to feed in the shadows.


    At least one morsel remained. The bogeyman rose up over the cloaked body with his fangs bared and his arms cocked to crush the thing if it still drew breath and to roll it into an easy ball of meat so that it could fit down his human throat.


    ¡°¡­you saved me,¡± said the meat, clear but unsure. ¡°Thank you very much.¡±


    The body had shifted somewhat, not growing any higher off the ground, but to a prostrate position. Its face must have been against the filthy ground.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG face regained its semblance of humanity and his stance relaxed. The voice was familiar.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Get up,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said.


    Sorrowful green eyes peered out from the papery brown cloak. They widened temporarily before returning to their half-lidded default. The person stood slowly, their aching joints almost giving out as they leaned against the walls. They put their weight on their back as if they¡¯d been cornered, but it could have just been the pain. Wavy, dirty blonde hair crept over their face, hiding some of the blood and dirt beneath. They drew in a worried breath and slowly said,


    ¡°You¡¯re hurt¡­¡±


    Pennybard looked anxiously at his master, who seemed thoroughly puzzled. Go on and kill the human! he wanted to shout, but it seemed like BEEADDLEDRUNG wouldn¡¯t listen if he did.


    ¡°I made a sacrifice to the moon. It is nothing.¡±


    The person gingerly tugged BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s wrist out of his pocket. Their hand was dirty, but soft.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.


    ¡°O Lumen fair,¡± the voice began, its tone crystalizing, ¡°fulfill your promise and I shall my own. Restore this body¡­¡± the voice trailed off. It was a long incantation, one BEEADDLEDRUNG didn¡¯t quite have the attention span for. Many emotions flicked through Pennybard¡¯s face: betrayal, hurt, wrath, and fear. He muttered something in his own tongue.


    As the bogeyman¡¯s eyes returned to the freckled face below, a belated horror struck him and he attempted a shout, but his breath had left him. The light of the Tower consumed him and he felt the shadows¡¯ erasure. He shriveled like a mollusk in the sun.


    Or so he anticipated. Really, he felt something surge through his hand as a white light consumed his vision. It burned slightly, but his missing finger had returned. What¡¯s more, he felt slightly refreshed all over.


    The stranger stumbled and their breathing became labored.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG caught them and held them up.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Kinjo said with much concern. Fear of being discovered seemed to have won over hunger for tonight.


    The stranger smiled slightly now. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll be okay.¡± It seemed like a boast, but BEEADDLEDRUNG wasn¡¯t going to contest them on it.


    ¡°Okay,¡± the monster said and turned to leave. He made it about five paces.


    ¡°W-wait!¡± the voice stopped him. He turned and glowered unintentionally at the weakling. ¡°Umm,¡± it continued, and quickly spat out: ¡°would-you-be-my-partner?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.


    ¡°You know, like, go hunting together?¡± This didn¡¯t seem to please the bogeyman, who¡¯d sworn by hunting alone since before he was sentient. ¡°I overheard what happened to your party¡­¡± the stranger said shakily. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. S-so if people are afraid to party up with you now, they¡¯re foolish! Let¡¯s partner up!¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    The stranger had a truly strange face on, one of forced determination and enthusiasm. Or perhaps it was a genuine expression, an ironic one considering how battered they looked. BEEADDLEDRUNG could tell that this person wouldn¡¯t survive long on their own ¡ª might have died already without his intervention ¡ª but that they nevertheless were earnestly offering assistance. His skin felt tight. He remembered how Pennybard squirmed and pleaded for life, at any cost, an age ago. This thing should be doing the same, but in contrast it just gave itself up freely, unaware of its position.


    ¡°Bahahahahaaha!¡± BEEADLEDRUNG laughed. The stranger shrunk and looked pitiable.


    The bogeyman outstretched his healed hand. ¡°Fine,¡± he said, ¡°you can be my partner.¡±


    He was pleased; an impressionable young human with a knack for bright spells had just offered themself up for his cause. His skin could only take him so far, as he¡¯d learned ¡ª he knew nothing of this new city or its people. Hunger still grew in his belly, almost to a maddening extent, but he could endure it. That guard woman from before had been a hint, but he was too confused then to read it: a willing human pawn could take him wherever he pleased. It was a fine idea.


    The stranger beamed. ¡°Wow, really? G-great,¡± they stuttered, and took BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s hand. ¡°My name is Elliother. You can call me Elli!¡±


    I¡¯m BEEADDLEDRUNG, the bogeyman almost admitted proudly. ¡°An interesting name,¡± he said.


    ¡°You¡¯re Kinjo, right?¡± Elliother asked. ¡°That¡¯s a cool name, too. We¡¯ll make a great team!¡±


    ¡°I am sure,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said. The two left the stinking alley where they¡¯d been standing for too long, and then BEEADDLEDRUNG startled himself with a reflexive movement of the jaw. He yawned.


    ¡ª


    Elliother seemed to know where humans slept in this city, and decided that the party should go there after seeing BEEADDLEDRUNG yawn. Apparently beholden now to the failings of his new skin, BEEADDLEDRUNG agreed.


    ¡°Actually, you can sleep just about anywhere if you have enough stars,¡± Elliother explained as the two walked. ¡°There are many inns, and some hunters even have their own houses.¡±


    ¡°Stars?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s what they call money here,¡± his companion answered, and giggled. ¡°You really did lose your memory, huh?¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG nodded.


    ¡°Well, that shouldn¡¯t be a problem if we stick together,¡± Elliother said. They seemed much less on edge ever since the bogeyman had accepted them as a partner. Of course, it was safe to say that they believed he was human. ¡°Where we¡¯re going is nowhere fancy, though¡­ there¡¯s some basic lodging for new blood like me. They should let you in as well.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG nodded.


    Elliother tripped on something and fell onto one knee. They were panting, and it became clear again how badly they¡¯d been beaten.


    In a notch between nearby buildings, someone was bathing in a fountain and, after noticing the fall, began laughing. This roused BEEADDLEDRUNG, and he almost let out a growl in the person¡¯s direction. It reminded him of what he felt while he was ridiculed in the Lioneer.


    ¡°Go wash yourself in some filthy pit far away, cur!¡± he yelled. The laughter ceased.


    Elliother showed a pained smile as BEEADDLEDRUNG helped them up. ¡°That¡¯s thanks for earlier,¡± the monster said in a shyer tone than his usual.


    ¡°Oh¡­ so you noticed.¡± The human seemed embarrassed. ¡°I really hate Orval, so it¡¯s no problem.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG nodded. Need to work on my responses if I¡¯ll be talking so much, he thought.


    ¡°Ah,¡± he said aloud as a question rose to the surface of his thoughts. ¡°I have been wondering, Elliother: which are you? I cannot tell if you are a man or a woman.¡±


    ¡°Huh!?¡± Elliother burst out. They looked flustered, and had stopped in their tracks. ¡°Not you, too¡­¡± they sulked.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG gave his companion another serious look over. They were short, and their frame, though hidden by a boxy cloak, appeared small and lean. Their green eyes had long lashes and were sometimes shielded by tufts of fine hair, and a light dusting of freckles covered the area between their little nose and eyes. And, of course, the hand they had reached out earlier felt smooth and fragile like porcelain. Dainty was the best word that came to BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s mind to describe this person.


    Elliother¡¯s face was beet red as he spoke: ¡°I-I¡¯m a boy. I¡¯m not quite grown up yet, so my manly figure has yet to f-fill out.¡± He looked down. ¡°It¡¯s a common mistake though, so don¡¯t feel too bad¡­¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG did not feel bad at all. Still a child, he confirmed. He¡¯d eaten many children, but never, ever hunted with one. Best not to mention that.


    ¡°My class is priest,¡± the boy continued, ¡°so even if I¡¯m weak, it should be okay.¡± He was silent for a moment. ¡°What¡¯s your class, Kinjo?¡±


    Bogeyman is what I am, he told himself. Humans could try to imitate monsters, but the result was so unnatural. At least in most cases. He felt Finale thump lightly against his back, and that name which was not a name returned to his mind. Pennybard was making a small ruckus about something but BEEADDLEDRUNG ignored him.


    ¡°My class is hero,¡± he said resolutely.


    ¡°Hero¡­?¡± Elliother asked. Doubt was in his voice, but didn¡¯t pry further about it. ¡°One more thing, if you don¡¯t mind¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that creature?¡± The boy was looking at Pennybard, who averted his gaze in disgust.


    ¡°He is my pet,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said. ¡°Pennybard, he is called. Do not talk to him.¡± A simple instruction that Pennybard himself didn¡¯t seem opposed to.


    ¡°O-okay.¡±


    It felt like the two had walked the entire span of the city before reaching the dingy house where they would sleep. It was a long building near one of the city¡¯s great lumber walls. Things were quieter in this district and almost nobody was outside. A guard in black armor stood within an open window between the doors of the lodging.


    ¡°We need to sign in,¡± Elliother said sleepily and approached the guard. After a brief exchange, he walked towards a door and waved to BEEADDLEDRUNG.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG noticed two more guards posted near the corners of the buildings. They were hardly visible in the shadows. To the bogeyman, this felt like a trap: the kind he¡¯d set for food that was willing to walk right into his web. Something about his partner¡¯s eyes soothed his suspicion, though. He felt that they were trustworthy eyes.


    ¡°Name?¡± the door guard asked in monotone. They¡¯d already written down the number on BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s badge.


    ¡°Kinjo.¡±


    ¡°Kinjo¡­?¡± the guard questioned. Apparently a longer name was needed.


    ¡°Kinjo¡­ Hellfingers,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG recalled.


    ¡°Hm,¡± the guard studied a sheet. ¡°That doesn¡¯t match.¡±


    Unease surged up the bogeyman¡¯s spine. He really had been caught by these dark guards and their cursed city. Where were the shadows? He¡¯d gone so long without eating in his adopted town, so why did the hunger matter now? If the shadows wouldn¡¯t come, then he¡¯d use fire, hot fire-


    ¡°He¡¯s very drunk,¡± Elliother said to the guard. He did something strange: closed one eye quickly at BEEADDLEDRUNG, as if to signal something. ¡°Are you sure you need his surname?¡±


    The guard grumbled. ¡°I reckon you¡¯re the last two of the night. Go in quietly.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG nodded.


    He followed his new companion inside to a room full of stacked cots. There were so many cots that it was difficult to walk around, especially with human eyes in the dark. Eventually Elliother found two open cots, climbed into the bottom one, and stretched his sore limbs. BEEADDLEDRUNG climbed to the top with ease thanks to his height and, without removing a single garment, laid flat on his back. Pennybard¡¯s cage was jammed awkwardly against the cot, and the sword Finale pressed uncomfortably against the bogeyman¡¯s back. He folded his arms over his chest as if he were a corpse being laid into a coffin and took one last look around before closing his eyes.


    Someone across the room was awake and the whites of their eyes flashed as they quickly looked away from BEEADDLEDRUNG. It is fine, the skin-thief thought as fatigue overcame him.


    ¡°Goodnight, Kinjo,¡± Elliother whispered from below.


    ¡°Goodnight, Elliother,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG replied.


    ¡°¡­just Elli, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± the boy said. Then he fell right asleep.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG sat with his eyes closed, waiting for sleep to take him. What was sleep like? He¡¯d slept in some other stage of his evolution, but couldn¡¯t remember how it felt.


    Is it like death? he wondered.


    Perhaps it¡¯s like a taste of it...

 Chapter 7 - Prices

    It may have been an uncomfortable rest, but at least it was nostalgic ¡ª the starchy canvas cots which bloated the lower shelters were one of the first harsh greetings prisoners experienced. Many spent countless nights lying on these beds, too paranoid to sleep, fearing that the Keepers would slyly enter when the moon was high and drag them out to be lynched. Even so, it was hard not to wonder how such a courtesy ¡ª decent lodgings for all prisoners ¡ª was even considered. Not that the Keepers were lacking at all in courtesy. No, not those dogs of the crown. Indeed, it was at least nice to able able t-


    Hm? It was an uncomfortable rest, and BEEADDLEDRUNG awoke to unfamiliar surroundings with a sense of deja vu. Perhaps it was wrong to call the rest uncomfortable; of those night hours after nodding off the bogeyman could recall nothing. What was uncomfortable was the feeling which lingered in his breast, one he did not know. Was it his adopted weapon poking through from under his aching back? Rolling over revealed that Finale was unbloodied.


    Pennybard was roused by this movement and bobbed in his cage. He sighed and gripped the bars for stability.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± Elliother said from below after a yawn. He leaned off the cot and looked up. ¡°Sleep okay?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG replied. Panic seized him as he sunk into contemplation. Although his memory was foggy, he remembered catching sight of someone staring at him before he closed his eyes. Now the room was empty save himself and the boy.


    ¡°Everybody else has gone,¡± said Elliother, as if reading his mind. ¡°Newbies tend to be early risers. I guess it¡¯s because they¡¯re anxious to find work while it¡¯s available...¡±


    ¡°There is not enough work for everyone?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked. He still had a very weak grasp on how this settlement operated, but he¡¯d guessed by now that the prisoners were meant to provide for themselves, and that the guards in black kept them from escaping. It seemed intricate, but stupid. He figured the guards couldn¡¯t be too much stronger than some of the people he¡¯d seen on the street.


    ¡°Well, n-not exactly,¡± Elli responded. ¡°There aren¡¯t as many resource bounties lately, so they go quickly. Most prisoners want to take on those bounties because they¡¯re the least dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± said BEEADLEDRUNG. ¡°Er, interesting. Have you done any?¡±


    The boy shifted in his cot before stepping carefully onto the floor. ¡°Well, a couple¡­ it¡¯s almost impossible to find a registrar in time, though, and they usually don¡¯t accept parties of one.¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG could see that, without his cloak, Elli was not simply lithe ¡ª he looked starved. In the daylight that filtered through the high window in the corner of the room, dirt shone all over him in violent contrast with his fair features. His breathing was uneven and his balance seemed compromised.


    ¡°Ellioth- mm, just Elli,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG began, ¡°when is the last time you fed?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Elli blushed. ¡°Fed? Y-yesterday I found¡­¡± his voice trailed off.


    ¡ª


    BEEADDLEDRUNG dragged his new associate by the wrist as he¡¯d been dragged by the guard woman the previous day. Few words had been spoken between the two since the bogeyman suddenly sprang out of bed and led the boy out of the shelter, and Pennybard was still silent, whether for secrecy¡¯s sake or because of some internal conflict.


    ¡°W-where are we going, Kinjo?¡±


    ¡°To find you a snack,¡± said BEEADDLEDRUNG. ¡°My partner won¡¯t be of any use to me if they¡¯re skinny as a twig.¡±


    Soon, after determinedly retracing his steps, BEEADDLEDRUNG looked at the sign which hung off the building before him to confirm that his navigatory instincts were still working. Welcome Inn (& Lounge), it read, though he could barely interpret the meaning of the symbols.


    ¡°They ought to have food,¡± the bogeyman remarked proudly, as if this was an expert bit of info. ¡°We¡¯re going in. I have heard this place is haunted, so be careful.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡± Elli burst out, but it was too late to turn back.


    There were few people inside the Welcome Inn, and except for the innkeeper they paid little heed to the strange pair that entered. An earthy, aged fragrance was in the air that seemed to calm even Pennybard. After BEEADDLEDRUNG asked aloud for a meal, not knowing who was ¡°in charge,¡± the two were seated, and Elliother was encouraged to order whatever he wanted by the bogeyman.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Elli asked, his face ruddy with embarrassment.


    Upon receiving affirmation, he proceeded to order a slew of dishes which sounded more extravagant than typical human meals to BEEADDLEDRUNG. Apple porridge and honey-slathered oatsmacks and saussiches with gravy and potato pie and so on¡­


    When the food was all laid out and ready to be dined on, the array covered the whole table! Of course, BEEADDLEDRUNG ordered nothing, believing human food would only exacerbate his true hunger. And they eat it hot! he thought amusedly.


    The trouble came after Elliother finished eating, having left not a crumb ¡ª an admirable feat. BEEADDLEDRUNG was ready to leave the inn, but something about a bill prevented this.


    ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t have any stars!?¡± Elliother asked, worry manifesting in the volume of his voice.


    ¡°I never found anything like that in these clothes,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG replied. ¡°Do you have any?¡±


    ¡°Of course not!¡± Elli yapped, his gentle voice cracking. ¡°S-sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to yell¡­ But why did you offer to pay if you don¡¯t have any money?¡±


    ¡°I did not think it would matter. Can we just pay them later?¡±


    ¡°¡­When you said you lost your memory, I didn¡¯t think you meant all of it.¡±


    The boy¡¯s disappointed tone tried BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s temper, although it was impossible to feel threatened by such a frail creature. He had some awareness of the human system of commerce, at least insofar as it involved trading goods and deeds, but he took for granted the idea that food was something to be taken without regard for anything like compensation. Even now, he thought, it was possible just to give this wooden building and all its inhabitants over to Ignis and never hear about this bill again.


    He guessed, however, that smart little Pennybard would advise against this. As long as he wore this skin, until he was outright cornered, it would be best to play along.


    The innkeeper, who had already overheard the conversation, looked impatient. ¡°Kinjo, you¡¯ve already got enough sittin¡¯ on your tab,¡± he said. ¡°If you won¡¯t pay, I¡¯m gonna send for one of them.¡±


    But he didn¡¯t have to. At that moment, a figure in the obsidian armor of the Keepers slowly pushed open the lobby door, turning the relaxed atmosphere to a wary silence. The innkeeper seemed less enthusiastic about talking to one of them now that they¡¯d shown up, and squirmed nervously. Elli went pale and cold and pulled his hood over his eyes instinctively. BEEADDLEDRUNG waited.


    The knight¡¯s helmet turned as they scanned the room for something or someone.


    Their eyes, though obscured, seemed to lock onto the bogeyman, and they approached.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°Th-these two ordered a whole feast, and now they won¡¯t pay,¡± the innkeeper managed.


    ¡°¡­that so?¡± came the guard¡¯s voice, automatic and tinny. They looked at BEEADDLEDRUNG. ¡°Number 13. You are wanted for questioning.¡±


    The light of the Tower and the voice and sleep and dark, ravenous thoughts passed through the bogeyman¡¯s mind, but something kept him from action.


    ¡°How much do they owe, innkeeper? Their bounties can be raised after questioning. I will pay for the two of them now.¡±


    ¡°Er, of course, thanks,¡± the innkeeper replied, holding out the written bill (Kinjo¡¯s tab included) to them with a shaky wrist.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± the guard mused, their cold voice shifting awkwardly toward a tone of either anger or humor as they admired the bill. ¡°Well, no matter.¡± They then removed a lump of folded leather from a notch in their armor, slid out a good stack of paper vouchers, and handed it to the innkeeper, who nodded anxiously and returned to his counter. He shot the penniless patrons a look a pity or contempt. Someone in the room sneezed before the silence returned.


    ¡°Come,¡± the guard said. BEEADDLEDRUNG and Elliother filed out of the inn in front of the guard with the feeling of eyes piercing their backs.


    ¡ª


    The knight in black didn¡¯t so much lead the companions out of the inn as urge them forward, cornering them in a narrow, empty crossing with a dried up fountain.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG looked at Elliother, whose eyes were glazed with dew. No, tears. And his lip was quivering.


    ¡°Thought I might find you there, Kinjo,¡± the guard began, taking off her helmet and shaking her head so that her hair fell naturally. The black waves looked somewhat unkempt, as if they hadn¡¯t been washed in a while. ¡°I know I told you to go get food last night, but I didn¡¯t mean that much food. 20 stars? And a 30 star tab? Someone could¡¯ve bought their life back with that much.¡± She sighed.


    The woman from last night. BEEADDLEDRUNG felt relieved, but in a way he had anticipated this. Maybe it was the fact that Pennybard would have done something to get his attention if he were in real trouble. Right?


    ¡°You could¡¯ve told me you were starless. Wouldn¡¯t be the first time someone¡¯s covered for you.¡± Her eyes turned, squinting, to Elliother. His hood barely obscured his face. He stood still and held his breath.


    ¡°And who is she?¡± she said with distaste.


    Elliother began crying outright. His voice was hard to make out from between his sniffles and sobs. ¡°Wh-who am I? Wh-what¡¯s going on, Kinjo? Are we in trouble?¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s mind raced. What was this tension? He looked to Pennybard. The imp was leaned against the inside of his cage with his eyes closed, smirking. This flaunt was unwelcome, but now was no time for the bogeyman to discipline his pet. He would have to resolve this conflict with his own intuition.


    ¡°I can explain,¡± Kinjo said. ¡°My memory was damaged, however, so I only know what happened yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Go on,¡± the woman urged.


    Kinjo scratched his hair nervously. ¡°After you left me, I went to find some hu-, some food. I came to¡­¡±


    ¡°The L-lioneer,¡± Elli sniffled.


    ¡°Yes, that one,¡± Kinjo continued, ¡°and talked with some people there about the bounty. They bought me a drink. It was terrible.¡±


    ¡°She bought you a drink? And you were alone, at the Lioneer?¡± the woman interrogated. For whatever reason she seemed angrier.


    ¡°No, no,¡± Kinjo said, ¡°Elli has no stars. I found him outside getting kicked by some ruffians.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± the woman responded. This seemed to have calmed her down. She laughed dryly. ¡°Leave it to Kinjo to save a poor young girl in distress. ¡®Damaged memory¡¯ or not, you never ch-¡±


    She gave a confused look.


    ¡°Him?¡±


    The boy¡¯s sobs had subsided, but he sniffled on. He was about a head shorter than the woman, and his figure even under his cloak was clearly more slender than hers. His blonde hair and light eyes matched the traits Kinjo seemed to find attractive in women. His. He.


    ¡°Why does this always happen?¡± Elliother said and wiped his eyes. ¡°I am a y-young man. My name is Elli,¡± he managed, shyly extending a hand.


    The woman was still taken aback, but no longer angry, and she graciously shook the boy¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Elli,¡± she laughed, her seriousness disintegrating. ¡°My name is Alma. I didn¡¯t mean to be so rude. It¡¯s nice to meet you.¡±


    Alma, BEEADDLEDRUNG noted. He was starting to appreciate the usefulness of names more than ever, and the fact that he knew no name for this person until now had bothered him.


    Alma redirected her attention. ¡°Anyway, Kinjo,¡± she said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t lying when I said you were wanted for questioning.¡± Her face turned stern again. ¡°They¡¯re curious about what you found out there, and how the others¡­¡±


    ¡°As I said, my memory is damaged,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said. His patience was running dangerously low.


    Alma looked hurt. ¡°Yeah, you did say that, but I don¡¯t understand what you mean. How much do you remember?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG started, ¡°nothing.¡±


    Alma let out a sharp breath in frustration. ¡°Nothing!?¡± She moved closer to Kinjo and looked deep into his eyes.


    Pennybard! Pennybard, what do I say? the beast thought, but his pet would not hear his panic, and if he spoke it would only complicate matters.


    ¡°You¡­ since you came back, you look like years have gone by, like you were alone out there for a long, long time.¡± Tears fell slowly from Alma¡¯s eyes. ¡°What happened to you, Kinjo? I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t with you all, but I¡¯m here for you now. You can tell me. You can trust me.¡± She said this with the utmost sympathy. BEEADDLEDRUNG could feel the warmth radiating from her body as she moved to embrace him.


    Elliother was still sniffling as Alma tried to hold back tears. BEEADDLEDRUNG was silent. What would a human say? What would a human say? What would a human say? The hug made him feel like he had jaws wrapped tightly around him, ready to crunch.


    Then something returned to him from the past. It was an amalgam of sensations. The hero¡¯s words, ¡°Where is my daughter?¡± The bright flame reflected in his eyes. Something far older: little bony figures hopping around on a rocky surface. Their bright, hungry voices. Gone now.


    Two companions mangled and left lying in the dirt, Erika knocked aside, and a deep pool of sorrow.


    Kinjo stepped out of the embrace and placed two firm hands on Alma¡¯s shoulders. His face looked gaunt and somber in the shade of the crossing. His lip quivered.


    The last trace of anger disappeared from Alma¡¯s face. Guilt and grief and worry shone instead. ¡°K-kinjo?¡±


    ¡°It was a big monster, like a bugbear, almost,¡± Kinjo began. His dark eyes shimmered. ¡°It had this terrible shadow¡­ it skewered Conner. I tried to set a trap, but no trap could have stopped this beast.¡± Elli was silent now, listening along with an expression of shock. ¡°Ike tried to cut it down, but he was not strong enough, and it broke him. Erika and I surrendered, but then the bugbear knocked her out, and I¡­ I-¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± Alma said. Despite how difficult this was for her to hear, she understood that it was more difficult for Kinjo to tell. ¡°I think I understand. I¡¯m not going to ask you to remember any more of what happened right now.¡± She sighed. ¡°There¡¯s more that I want to know, a lot more, but you need time¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m s-sorry,¡± Elli spoke up, ¡°I didn¡¯t know how much you were hurting, Kinjo. I guess I¡­¡±


    Kinjo smiled slightly through his tears. ¡°Thank you both. I should remember everything eventually, but I think I would rather not¡­¡±


    Alma held her chin and puzzled over something. She looked around to make sure nobody had entered the crossing.


    There was a stranger, or it seemed there was, but they quickly disappeared from around the corner. If they were listening, it¡¯s unlikely they would have found anything too unusual, and they didn¡¯t look to be a Keeper or anyone in their employ. Alma lowered her voice anyway.


    ¡°The Keepers will still want answers, and it¡¯ll be hard to find a way around that without jeopardizing my position,¡± she said.


    ¡°Your position?¡± Elliother murmured. He was beginning to understand Alma¡¯s unusual status as a Keeper. ¡°W-what if Kinjo went out on another bounty as soon as possible? That way he could take some more time to remember, at least enough to please them¡­¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Alma said, ¡°Assuming they haven¡¯t barred him from registering, that could work.¡± She looked to Kinjo again. ¡°But Kinjo, there¡¯s something you need to know.¡±


    Kinjo wiped his eyes. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one getting questioned. If you were the sole survivor, and this was a typical bounty, I doubt they¡¯d care at all about the situation.¡±


    Another? BEEADDLEDRUNG thought. His conscience was fuzzy. Ah, that¡¯s right-


    Kinjo¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°What are you saying?¡±


    Alma continued: ¡°...Right around the time you came back yesterday, a repo force was sent out to retrieve you. Not just you, though. Everyone in your party was marked as a deserter when you failed to make a report, and even after I informed the magistrate that you¡¯d returned alive, they still sensed someone out there.¡±


    Although it wasn¡¯t confirmed yet, Alma couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Based on what you¡¯ve told me, Kinjo,¡± she said, ¡°I think Erika is alive.¡±


    There is a price to pay for mercy, my lord, Pennybard thought.

 Chapter 8 - Blink

    A bead of cold sweat rolled down Kinjo¡¯s temple.


    Alive, yes, BEEADDLEDRUNG thought. But she doesn¡¯t know. No, she knows nothing. Finale put her out. Still, he considered that Pennybard may have been right when he advised burning the corpses dead where they lay. The imp was right far more often than he deserved to be. At the time, BEEADDLEDRUNG had thought to increase his notoriety and renew his name, but now it seemed he should be doing the opposite. The dissonance in these motives, both of which tugged evenly at his nerves, made him feel fettered. He now seriously began to consider himself a prisoner among the humans.


    ¡°Kinjo? Hello, Kinjo?¡± Shut your mouth! Leave me to think! The voice sounded muffled as if trying to reach BEEADDLEDRUNG through a wall of water.


    ¡°Kinjo? I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to¡­¡± Alma said. She supported Kinjo¡¯s body with her own, as he looked on the verge of collapse. His eyes were wide and feral and his breath was labored. Elli watched, hesitant to speak fearing his words would only hurt.


    The physical contact tore BEEADDLEDRUNG from his thoughts, though it did not bring him much peace. ¡°I do not want to think about her right now,¡± Kinjo spoke.


    Alma looked sorrowful, but another emotion flickered in her eyes that BEEADDLEDRUNG couldn¡¯t read. ¡°I understand¡­ it¡¯s wrong of me to hope for that while I know so little, and especially to try and drag you into it¡­¡± She smiled weakly. ¡°We¡¯ll see how things play out. Someone should be coming home, though.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG purred. He wouldn¡¯t pay this subject any more mind so long as he could manage to avoid it. ¡°Elliother, you must find a registrar for me so that I can go out on a bounty. Will you do that?¡±


    Elliother choked.


    The bogeyman realized he might have made a mistake in his delivery. His temper was muddling his performance. Was he too forceful?


    ¡°Elli-other?¡± Alma asked slowly, furrowing her brow in contemplation. She looked at the boy and he shrank further into his cloak in fear. The name was familiar to her, seemed important, and yet she couldn¡¯t recall why or from where. ¡°What a unique name,¡± she severed her stream of thought. Perhaps it would come back to her some other time.


    Elli let out a slow breath as the tension drained from his body. BEEADDLEDRUNG was confused, and cared more about having his question answered than understanding the gritty details of this interaction.


    ¡°Yes, I can find us a registrar,¡± Elli responded with a mousy voice. ¡°Why don¡¯t we get going now?¡± It seemed they were both in a hurry.


    ¡°Good,¡± BEEADLEDRUNG responded, satisfied. He lifted a leg in an awkward motion, a footstep, and stumbled on it. Alma stood still and looked dejected.


    ¡°Alma,¡± Kinjo managed before slinking out of the crossing with Elli at his side, ¡°please do your best to keep them from asking me too many questions. It is painful to remember.¡± The skin-thief left with a sour taste on his tongue, but Alma nodded with a determined gaze. She couldn¡¯t understand what troubled Kinjo so deeply, but she would nonetheless try to mitigate it. Still, as she watched the two depart, her determination was marred with guilt.


    ¡°When you return, meet me in the little joint next to Hund¡¯s Arms.¡± Talking like this made her feel nostalgic. ¡°I¡¯ll wait for you there.¡±


    Kinjo acknowledged this by waving without turning. Or perhaps BEEADDLEDRUNG was waving a claw in dismissal.


    ¡ª


    Elliother and BEEADDLEDRUNG exchanged few words on their trek to the city¡¯s edge. Elli sheepishly offered directions now and again, and the bogeyman took these into his head and turned each into a mantra as he stomped his fleshy feet down the winding roads past many strange and uncouth humans. He had a goal beyond the city gates and he could stall within no longer until it was accomplished. So strong was this purpose that drove him that his chin might have been poised at a fixed angle for the whole walk if it weren¡¯t for the thorn at his side. It burned within its cage so the bars grew hot and the heat insulted Kinjo¡¯s skin, which looked fragile and milky to BEEADDLEDRUNG. But it was his skin now, and Pennybard would not relent.


    BEEADDLEDRUNG halted abruptly in the street. Elli made it a few paces ahead before he noticed. ¡°Kinjo?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me,¡± Kinjo said emotionlessly. BEEADDLEDRUNG remembered a stranger¡¯s words from the night before. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta piss.¡±


    After nestling himself between some dry, decrepit buildings, the bogeyman removed the cage from his belt and fumbled it in his hands before admonishing Pennybard. ¡°Cool yourself! You have done well to be silent until now. What is the matter?¡±


    The imp took a deep breath so that his crimson chest ballooned and grew pink before letting out a rush of words. ¡°Stupid, insolent humans. Dastardly, treacherous, things. I can¡¯t say a word or they¡¯ll turn it against me! Godsdamn them.¡± Then he cursed in the guttural, fiery language of his kind.


    This outburst was surprisingly cathartic to BEEADDLEDRUNG, as he mostly agreed with what was said, but his sympathy was misplaced ¡ª Pennybard looked at him in a rage. His beady eyes were wrung tight and his forked tongue drooped out as he scowled. ¡°Spare me your commands, master. What oaths have you made while I¡¯ve been quiet? What power have you given them over us?¡± The bogeyman almost felt that he deserved this judgment. ¡°Don¡¯t you plan to sell me for your freedom, Kinjo, as they¡¯ve told you to?¡± The imp turned again to silence after this as he waited for a response.


    ¡°No. You were right, good pet,¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG said with an effort, ¡°I should have killed them all. But it is too late now.¡± Pennybard¡¯s indignation didn¡¯t lessen, but he looked to calm down somewhat. ¡°Did you not yourself advise me to blend in? I am blending in.¡±


    Pennybard spat out a spot of soot. ¡°Yes, you are blending in, my lord, and well. Too well. There have been moments where one might mistake you for a human indeed.¡± Coming from Pennybard, this was an insult of the highest caliber. ¡°Don¡¯t let them tempt you into their lowly schemes! Remember the reason you came here at all! You should blend in, and well enough not to be caught, but don¡¯t forge unnecessary alliances.¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s heart sank back into shadow. Of course! His purpose had been arrested by the angst the city had caused him in his new skin. He¡¯d been so desperate to avoid scrutiny that he¡¯d forgotten to look for a specialist while he had the freedom to. Now he¡¯d gotten mixed up in some plot, he¡¯d become a prisoner at heart, and it almost seemed he wouldn¡¯t get the chance to have Finale examined, to find the hero, and to die. He renewed his tears from earlier as he accepted Pennybard¡¯s reproach. And yet he could not forget the voice, the searchlight, the strange and foreign thoughts which tickled his brain, the bars set around him.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°What should I do?¡± BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.


    Never before had the bogeyman so directly and defenselessly asked Pennybard for guidance. It was a sort of surrender.


    The bat revelled in this state of power. An opportunity to skew his captor¡¯s will was a rare and savory treat for him. If the situation were less complicated, he might have jumped for joy. Even now he couldn¡¯t help but smile.


    ¡°Go ahead and take that bag outside the city on some silly quest. Keep playing your part, kind Kinjo, until they really do trust you. Let them grow to depend on you.¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG raised his head.


    Pennybard sneered. His gaze was cast into the aether. ¡°And then we will betray them to the merciless and hungry flames of Ignis¡¯ promise.¡±


    In that moment the imp¡¯s wings looked ready to engulf the surrounding buildings, but then they were small and leathery again. BEEADDLEDRUNG thought his pet¡¯s hatred to be novel, but he took some of it to heart, and it blended with the motive which had been driving him towards the outside of the city: hunger. Human, BEEADDLEDRUNG thought, perhaps addressing the body he wore to see if it could respond, or perhaps stating the name of the mantle he was burdened with.


    Something was stirring deep inside his belly.


    ¡ª


    It turned out that Kinjo did need to piss.


    Elli¡¯s eyes lit up once he returned. ¡°You took a while, so I thought you might have left¡­¡±


    Kinjo took a deep breath. ¡°Well, I had been holding it in,¡± he said, ¡°and I had to figure out how to use that thing.¡±


    Elli laughed, but was then surprised to see that Kinjo bore a grave expression. He looked as if he¡¯d resolved in his heart to perform some great and deadly task.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Elli offered weakly. ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be out of resource bounties, but the most we¡¯ll have to worry about is a two-bone rating.¡± He assumed his partner was afraid to face the outside world again after the horrors he¡¯d been subjected to there.


    Kinjo gave a half-smile, and the two continued along the last few pockets of buildings toward the place where a registrar was supposed to be. Soon they arrived at a plaza framed on three sides by peculiar structures and on one by a stretch of tall grey wall. Among the structures was one like a big tree stripped of its bark. As he drew closer, BEEADDLEDRUNG saw that what looked like branches were closer to fingers ¡ª it was a large, whittled wooden hand twisting its fingers up toward the clouds. Lanterns hung from its digits on weathered ropes and swung in the breeze.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Kinjo asked.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Elli perked up, ¡°that¡¯s a house of ritual. Some of the prisoners are classless when they arrive, so I guess there need to be a few places where the ritual can be performed.¡±


    ¡°Ah, of course,¡± Kinjo noted. BEEADDLEDRUNG figured that he¡¯d never understand the strange culture he¡¯d been immersed in at this rate, so it would be best just to feign prior knowledge.


    Elli stopped and pointed at another building that lay ahead. ¡°There¡¯s the registrar¡­¡±


    Its thick foundation of stones looked ancient and stalwart, but the stories and wings of wood and brick had been reconstructed or added upon so many times that it seemed more like a stockpile of materials than an architectural installation. Based on the traffic which filtered in and out through a number of wide doors, it looked like many prisoners might live and operate completely out of this building. But the prisoners, diverse and rough in appearance, only comprised some of the traffic. Concentrated here were more bodies wearing the garb of the city guard, undoubtedly at various levels of its employ, than BEEADDLEDRUNG had yet seen. It was an area which in younger days he would have referred to as an enemy base.


    Kinjo looked reluctant. ¡°Are we going in there?¡±


    Elli winced. ¡°Well, we need to if you want to take on a bounty¡­¡±


    BEEADDLEDRUNG put on the dour face he wore for serious hunts.


    ¡°Alright,¡± said Kinjo.


    It was easy to get in. Not too many paces, some brass handles to pull on, bodies to shuffle past. He was blinking a lot, maybe because humans did that and he was a convincing human now, or maybe because chopping up his vision into thin slices made the time go by faster. In any case, it was easy, but now the two stood before the registrar itself, which the building was really just a sort of container for, and things seemed to get harder. The routy passersby became quiet in this chamber, a large cylindrical room with a half-dome ceiling. It had the kind of acoustics that singled out every noise and enhanced its volume, so that each cough or snuffle was a nerve-wracking attention-drawer. The floor was a black and white tile checkerboard, and all along the walls, ragged slips of paper or cloth were tacked or posted that bore job descriptions, bounties. Prisoners tore them off and brought them to the thing which sat in the gloom at the center of the room: a being of black, branching metal or stone atop a tall throne like a statue of a fey king of old: a registrar.


    That there were, assumedly, multiple of these kings housed amidst the ramshackle cityscape and amongst the rough-hewn rabble made BEEADDLEDRUNG rethink his position once more. This was not a person in black regalia like the many he¡¯d seen, nor even a stoic sentinel in sable armor; it was perhaps human, maybe long ago, but only beneath layers and layers of steel and ash. Humans were weak creatures ¡ª this BEEADDLEDRUNG knew. He spared the inhabitants of the city because they were, for the time being, useful to him. Their lives were essentially forfeit, and if he pleased he could formally adopt the whole city. He¡¯d done something like that before without much trouble, right?


    The registrar approved or rejected bounty applications with a subtle motion: a thumbs-up or thumbs-down. It did not speak. If it had eyes, each could see the whole room without turning on its invisible axis. Its thorny, coronal helm did not flinch or arch. The figure looked neither bored nor attentive, neither slothful nor dutiful. It looked like death, alluring and terrifying.


    Pennybard buzzed against Kinjo¡¯s waist. BEEADDLEDRUNG looked down, wide-eyed. Hide me! mouthed the imp, his earlier proud demeanor forgotten, his color drained. The bogeyman turned toward the walls, removed Pennybard¡¯s cage from his belt and slowly lowered it into his green undercloak. He held it close like a precious, fragile ornament. Elli looked sheepish as he returned from the bulletin wall with a bounty, but he wasn¡¯t shocked like BEEADDLEDRUNG was. He¡¯d known about this?


    The boy looked concernedly at Kinjo and gestured toward the registrar. There was a line before it, but it moved quickly.


    Blink.


    Pennybard could see his master¡¯s goosebumped skin in the dark. He felt the shadow of his contract surround and choke him, and yet he felt safer hidden against his captor¡¯s chest than out in the open. As the searchlight of the Tower of Watch meandered along the terrain outside the city, and moments ticked by, something was stirring deep within its walls.


    Blink. Blink.


    Already at the front of the line?


    Elli masked his worry as he faced the registrar and displayed the bounty.


    [Hunt: 10 Goblins in Northern Farforest. Reward: 25 stars. Provisions provided. Rating: Two-Bone.]


    The registrar examined the two partners and took note of their numbers.


    Kinjo clenched his teeth as the figure, for the first time, turned its head. Its attention flared and pointed at him like a shiv readied to pierce.


    [PRISONER NUMBER 13:


    YOUR PARTY WILL BE UNABLE TO COLLECT REWARDS PENDING YOUR QUESTIONING.


    THIS HOLD HAS ONLY BEEN PLACED ON YOUR ABILITY TO COLLECT REWARDS. IT DOES NOT INHIBIT YOU FROM COMPLETING BOUNTIES.


    APPROVED.]


    The voice in BEEADDLEDRUNG¡¯s head could have come from nobody but the figure before him. He had found a target for his frustration! And yet he only nodded, turned, and walked away with Elliother as the statue raised its thumb. All his body hair stood at attention. His mind was blank. The inner realm where only his thoughts should proliferate had been trampled and defiled by someone else¡¯s. He felt castrated; human.