Chapter 37 (Patreon)

Wretch walked on naked feet across a narrow corridor, the carpet brushing against the soles as he descended a stairwell. It led into a dim kitchen, stacks of blackened pans and dented cauldron filled the counters.

From somewhere far away, came the faint thumps of footsteps.A door swung open. Bright lights illuminating his half-naked and bloodied body.Wretch bared his teeth in a hiss.

The man in the doorway let out a startled cry, stumbling backwards.Wretch lunged. His shoulder crashing into the man’s chest, sending him to the floor with a thud.

As the victim gasped for air, Wretch’s tail slithered around his throat. He grabbed the man’s hair and pulled him to his knees.Wretch glared at the shocked man scratching at his tail. 

He didn’t recognize the face. 

“Where is the professor’s room?” Wretch said, giving the tail just enough slack to let the man speak. The man pressed a shout from his throat.

“Were under attac…” Wretch’s knee interrupted the sentence, slamming against his nose with a crunch. The man crashed into a stack of pans that rang as they fell to the floor. 

Wretch’s tail yanked the man’s head back and ran his claws along the exposed throat. Blood sprayed over the counters, painting the kitchen utensils red. 

The man grew limp, one final gurgle escaping his chest.  Wretch searched through his pockets, finding a thick keyring. None matched the ornate key he remembered, the one that opened Jonah’s cage.

Jonah. The boy’s desecrated body flashed before his mind’s eyes. His bloodied claws curled into his palms. 

Not enough, not nearly enough.

Wretch walked out of the kitchen door into a dark dinner room. Stone walls, no windows, a long table beneath a chandelier. Crates littering the floor, some stacked higher than he was and gaslamps waiting along the walls. One by one, he shattered them as he passed. 

Dragging footsteps and muffled conversation approached the door. “You sure you heard something? The guard on night duty perhaps, or Boris?” said a voice Wretch didn’t recognize. 

“I’m certain, from the kitchen, or towards the tower.” Answered a second voice. 

Wretch’s dry lips drew into a grin, sharp teeth glinting in the dark. That second voice, he recognized. 

The double door squeaked open. Two figures stepped inside, a single lantern held high. Its light pierced the dark, casting long swaying shadows from the crates.

“Looks clear. Turn on the light, will you? It’s almost morning anyway.”

A click sounded, but no light came. “It won’t work, feels loose,” said the female. A linen shirt and a saber on her hip.

“The kitchen, I see light from under the door.” answered the man. Thin, with brown hair in a ponytail. Dressed in a black coat that reached to his ankles.

The two walked forward.“If an idiot woke me up because of a midnight snack, he better be ready to shi…”

Behind them, the door screeched to a close. A soft click from the locking mechanism.“What was that?” The woman whispered in the dark.

“Shhh listen.” answered the man, raising his lantern and drawing a rapier from his belt. 

Something struck the wall behind them. Metal chiming against stone. The man turned and lunged in a blur of fiery eyes and steel. There was nothing there.

Just a spoon wobbling on the floor. 

The woman yelped. A body hitting the floor with a thud.  

The man twisted back. The lantern’s cone of light swaying just in time to see her reaching hands vanish under the table. Dragged by something out of view.

“Vivianna!” He shouted. 

A wet tearing crunch answered him, and the woman's yelp turned into a blood curdling scream. 

The man paled and his pupils lit with fire. Lightning arched around his rapier with a crackle. He advanced with careful steps, weapon drawn. The Lantern illuminated the underside of the table. 

Long gashes mangled Vivianna’s face, and her throat had a gaping wound pulsing blood onto the carpet. She looked at him with glassy eyes, a gurgle escaping her throat as she tried to speak. She drew a final breath, then became still.

“The machine protects,” the man whispered. His eyes flickering between the shifting shadows.

From the dark, came a voice. 

“The keys, laughing mask, where are they?”

The man straightened, eyes opening wide. “You...You escaped.” 

Naked footsteps tapped against stone. “The professor. Where is he?”

“You can still crawl back in your cage,” the man said quickly. "He'll give you leniency. He won’t be harsh.” 

A low voice answered, filled with rattling anger. “Where are the keys… Laughing mask!”

“It's for the good of your people,” The man said, lantern swaying through the room. “I took no pleasure in it.”

Wretch’s voice grew into a roar. “The keys. The keys to the cage and the professor. WHERE ARE THEY?”

A pearl of sweat ran down the temple of the man.“You’ve lost it….”

From the side, something flew towards him in the dark. The man’s rapier crackled with lightning. He exploded forward, the blade piercing wood.

A chair.

From beneath it, Wretch pounced. Claws slashing at the man’s chins. The man was quick. He struck out with a kick, sending Wretch flying back into the darkness. The light flickered, a thick tail snaking around the lantern. The glass shattered, and the light died.

The man stood alone in the dark.“That’s enough, boy” he hissed with fiery eyes “I’m a fireling, you’re just an ember. I didn’t want to hurt you, but the professor will understand,” 

A guttural, inhuman voice came back. “You need to bleed now, you need to suffer.” 

Lightning crackled around the man’s free hand. He strained, trembling as the crackles coiled tighter and faster, converging at his fingertips. For a split second, it was quiet. 

The boom shook the air, a blinding arc crashing through stacks of boxes, crashing against the table in a hail of splinters. For an instant, the room bathed in white light. 

Wretch was six paces away beside a stack of boxes, ears ringing and eyes blinded. Their gazes locked. Their killing intent exchanged names.

Jusjenko, Lightning Step

Wretch the Rat-Eater

Jusjenko struck out in the blink of an eye. Not wasting the flash of light. Wretch didn’t dodge, he took a step forward. 

The rapier drove deep into his chest. Bursting out his back as the room fell into darkness once more.

But Wretch didn’t so much as flinch. His claws hooked around the man, pulling him close in a jagged hug. His teeth sank deep, ripping through flesh. Jusjenko screamed as his throat shredded. 

He staggered back, both hands clutching his neck.

From the dark came a sickening scrape, Wretch pulled out the thin blade lodged in his chest. Two fiery pupils stared at the man, to the sound of squirming flesh. 

Jusjenko stumbled, warm blood gushing down his neck and hands. “I argued for the handling to be kinder,” Jusjenko wheezed. “We’d break you at the rate we were going.” 

Wretch grabbed his head with both hands. Clawed thumbs pressing against his eyes. “Scream.” 

Wretch pushed the fingers into his skull and the man howled. He crumpled, whimpering and clutching his ruined face. “We aren’t like him, we’re not like…”

The rapier pierced through his skull, nailing him to the floor. Jusjenko shuddered, a glow appearing in his chest. 

Wretch felt a pulse from his Ember. kindled, sixth time. He spat blood and meat onto the stone.

Ears still ringing from the lightning, he listened. Hurried footsteps. Good, he wanted them to come.

He ripped out the coal from the dead man’s chest. Kindling his flame again. In a pocket of the coat, he found a bone white mask with a wicked grin. His vision flashed. And for a moment he was in the cage again, hands holding him down as the saw approached. 

He hissed, forcing the memory back.  Then slid the mask over his bloodied face. Information filling his mind. 

Joyous Mask of the Play.Hides the name of the wielder when expressing killing intent. Protection from divination.Mutes feelings of joy and laughter in the wearer.

“When all is said and done, I’m going to break you into pieces.” He whispered. 

Hurried footsteps approached the double-door. Wretch grabbed the rapier and pulled Jusjenko’s blood drenched coat over his shoulders. 

He walked up to the door, unlocking it with the stolen keys.Warm light flooded into the devastated room. He took a step into a stairwell going both up and downwards, closing the door behind him. Lights flickered all along the stairs and he heard shouts coming from below. Three figures ascended the stairs in long steps. Black suits with sabres drawn. Wretch stood motionless in the dead-man's clothing and mask.

But for now, you’ll help.

They stopped before him, wheezing from exertion. “Chief Jusjenko! The agent sent a telegram. The Hunters are onto us, we are leaving through the escape route with the prisoner.” 

“Last one out opens the cages. That noise earlier, are we under attack already?” Another added.

Wretch nodded slowly, then spoke in a flat, monotone voice. “Where is the professor?” 

“A level down, in his room down by the foyer, he….” The speaker stopped, his eyes narrowing.

“Chief?”Wretch saw the gaze of the man in the middle wander from his mask down to his stolen robe. It was black. But, at the bottom, it was dripping blood.

Wretch lunged. The rapier flashing forward, piercing deep into his chest. The other two froze in shock. Wretch moved in a blur. He kicked one hard in the stomach and his claws mauled the face of the other. 

He landed on all four. Skittering forward. The Gulschak stumbled backwards, holding his hands over his cut face. 

Wretch drove a clawed hand through his guts, feeling a pulsing cord inside. He ripped it out, blood spraying like a busted steam-valve.The man gasped, then drained sickly pale. 

Wretch spun around. The woman he’d kicked pressed a hand to her midsection with clenched teeth. She raised her sabre. He rushed her, pulling off the mask. She struck low, a fast, well-practiced swing. Wretch jumped over it. His claws latched onto the woman’s chest, the tail coiling around her stomach. 

She staggered under her weight.

Wretch’s teeth ripped a chunk of her neck. They tumbled to the floor. His jaws clamped down again, crunching against the cartilage of her windpipe. She tried to scream, but the air wheezed out of her neck. Wretch stood up straight as she crawled a few paces. He gazed around the stairs. Thick tubes lined the granite walls. Dragging the rapier behind him, He ripped a valve free. Steam hissed into the stairwell, filling the interior with hot mist.

One level below...

He disappeared down the stairs, leaving a trail of bloodied footsteps behind him.