The Bad Thing

Wrote this first back around 1995.  It gets edited and updated now and then.  It is the opening of my Circle book.  This is Benjamin from some of the other stories.  Now originally, I told this in first person.  Reading over it today, I cannot imagine what I was thinking.  I know that originally I identified with Benjamin in some strange childish way, but I've grown since then.

Poor Harry.  Get out of the city.  Was it really that hard?

He ran his stubby fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to catch his breath.  The lights cut through the shadows, but everything seems so hidden, so foreign.  He bent over and choked, squeezing and massaging his stomach.

Peeking around and seeing nothing, Harry stepped out from the alley into the street.  Some newspaper flipped and blew down the street, but no life.  It was dark, and only the soft whistle of wind could be heard.  His right hand relaxed, letting the trinket shift in his hand.  Color flowed back into his hand as he flexed his fingers.  He could smell the water.  Almost over.  He panted excitedly as he huffed and limped his way towards the city drawbridge.

Far above Harry, tucked neatly out of view, was a dark creature, a bad thing.  It watched him with a forced smile, smelling the air.  One claw scratching at the other.

Harry’s footsteps echoed as he left the concrete and stepped across the metal grating of the bridge.  He lost his footing and tried feebly to grab the railing as a hacking cough shook his body.  He put his hands on his knees and spit a small pool of blood between his feet.  He wiped the drool from his mouth and looked around again.  He whimpered as the adrenaline finally left him,  “Too much.”  He used the rail and started his final walk to the center of the bridge.  A mist began to fall.   The moisture beaded up on his clothing.  Harry was oblivious to the droplets collecting on his cheeks.

The bad thing dropped its shoulders and crouched forward onto its hands.  It began to choke and grunt.  With a few final gulps, it stretched its neck and spit up a small object covered in drool.  It was a ring.  It shot out onto the roof, where it rattled and rolled down the slant and, in a resounding ding, skipped up and over the edge, vanishing into the dark.   Moments later it could be heard bouncing far below. 

Harry looked back towards the harsh wet lights of the city.  A police car was patrolling in the distance, but soon it was gone.  What was a calm drizzle was picking up into a light shower.
The bad thing skittered across the roof.  With a short leap it pounced into a low crouch and kicked its legs, thrusting itself high into the air, spreading skeletal wings of translucent skin.  It did not come back down. 

Harry peered over the edge of the bridge and pulled the medallion out of his pocket, holding it in front of his eyes for one final look.   He could barely make out the engravings beneath its blemishes.  He had no idea what they meant, and he didn't care.

The water was starting to come down quickly now, and Harry lifted his arm, shielding his eyes from the rain.  The sounds of the winds were unsettling, like hundreds of children crying out, "hush".   Gathering his wits, Harry gritted his teeth, poised to pitch the amulet over the railing.  "To hell with you."   All of his might went into that throw, and his body continued the momentum, smacking solidly into a force – stopping him abruptly in mid-swing. Harry's heart stopped.  Everything was in slow motion.   His heart bleated out a slow thump, giving rhythm to the rainfall, allowing Harry the time to count each one colliding with his forehead, welling up in his eyes, and dripping from his nose.   His lungs began to expand, pulling in his next breath.  He slowly turned around, unsurprised—uninvolved.  His eyes started at his shoes, working their way up his body and out along his arm to see that, indeed, something was holding him.  His eyes followed the grip to its dark limb and up to its coarse presence, finally resting on its face.   At least it should have been a face.  "Imagine that." The man casually thought to himself. 

Like a rattlesnake, the other claw of his assailant flung out and snatched something from just below his chin.   As he fell to his knees, he heard the dull thud of flesh hit the street.  As the trunk of his body fell forward, his face smacked the cool cement of the bridge, bouncing once, and then coming to a rest sideways, staring across the bridge.   He could see a small river of blood forming somewhere nearby, pouring out in a little stream to a curb, where it met with rainwater, sluicing downstream.   His eyes focused on a small mound of blood.  "My throat." 

He felt his imprisoned arm hit the pavement, no longer holding the amulet.  A lullaby from his childhood began playing as he lazily watched through blurry lenses.   He felt a pressure on his back, and then motion. The thing hefted him onto his back, his head twisted at an odd angle, not quite pointing up.  Euphoria slowly spread through his body, the scene faded from his eyes, the voice of his mother singing him to sleep.  "What am I supposed to do now" he thought to himself as his lips convulsed, mouthing for the oxygen they would never receive. 

The creature brought its face close to its prey, smelling its work, tracing the man's face with the backs of its hands and knuckles.   It caressed his face tenderly with its yellow fingernails, finally resting them just above his forehead.  With a sharp exhale of breath, the thing shrieked, raking its nails down Harry's face, tearing the flesh off the skull, leaving behind a surprised grin.   The creature stood to leave and looked back across the body, which lay in an irregular, almost comical pose, still alive, wondering what was to become of it.   With a growl, the bad thing grabbed the man's chest sharply and heaved it up and over the railing, flinging it into the water far below.

Serial Killer - Lily

My serial killer story has two serial killers... the emotionless psychopath from the bus, and then this ball of unrealized hatred.  The two haven't met yet.  I'm not certain that this is Lily's first introduction, or if that's even her name yet.  Probably isn't.  I just wanted her to be the arm of wrath.  She is careless, but she tries to be reasonable.  When I think of her, I think of "May", just much more physical.  She's into the whole rape with blades thing.  I can only imagine why  (butter allergies?).  Just as before, I can't edit what I have.  I just have to produce quickly.  For future ref: this took about 30 minutes to write.  Edit: Fixing some outrageous grammar issues.  :-)

“Fill her up, Doug.”  Frank stepped down from the truck and took a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket.  He smacked out a single smoke for himself and tucked the pack away again.  “I’ll be right back.”

Doug was a big, baby-faced lug, but better company than nothing.  He lumbered around the semi and began pumping gas.  He looked off dumbly into the under lights of the station.  Thousands of bugs swarmed in from the night, plastering their little bodies over everything like an insect meet and greet.

Frank was lighting up while walking towards the front door of the deli.  He passed by a girl sitting at a small picnic table directly in front of the store, sipping on something from a Styrofoam cup.  Her glasses hid her eyes, and a drab hoodie covered her head, but the headlights from his rig betrayed several red scrapes across her cheek.  He chuckled, “Trick gone South, eh?”  She did not react. He stopped next to her.

“Don’t say nothin’?”  He reached out to turn her face towards him, but she lifted her hand and flinched.  He laughed again and spit, “You know de customer’s always right?  Well,”  He sucked a puff from his cigarette and blew smoke in her direction, “It ain’t what’s comin’ outta’ the mouth as impo’tant as what’s comin’ in it, ‘eh sister?”

Typical.

She could hear the bell ding as soon-to-be-not-Frankwalked into the diner.  “Well, Hello, Maggie.  You alone?”

Poor Maggie.  Alone with that piece of shit.   The door closed behind ex-Frank, so there was no telling what heartfelt renderings Maggie might behold.

She watched the idling tractor.  She watched big, stupid Doug.  He squinted and his eyes chased moths while his mouth hung open.  Was that maw supposed to be a fucking runway?  Lily could feel the bruises as her mouth creased into a semi smile.  Oh, Doug, how many hearts must you have launched with those boyish charms?  Not one, I’ll bet.

She looked back down at her notebook, scribbling her words.  She looked at them and concentrated, mouthing her lips to remember what she had written precisely.  She smiled and looked up at Doug again before returning to her meditation.

“Hey, Doug!  Doug!”  Doug looked around, wondering where the noise was coming from.  “Yo, Doug!  Over here!”  Finally, eye contact.  Good job, Doug.  “You hungry?”

“I—I want a hot pocket!”  Doug called back.  Delightful cuisine.  Bon Apetite, Doug.

“Doug, now, I told you no more of those!”  Wise words, ex-Frank.

“I want a hot pocket!” Doug insisted.

“I ain’t gonna argue with ya, Doug.  They ain’t got Hot Pockets.  I kin get ya a sandwich or some—“

“Baloney and cheese!”  Doug shouted over the motor.

Ex-Frank walked out a little ways to catch Doug’s words.  “Doug, I can’t hear ya over the motor.”

Nice pants.  Ex-Frank had his belt undone.  Lily turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse inside.  Maggie’s smock was on the counter, but Maggie wasn’t visible.

“Oh, now you see somethin’ you like?  Well, dah’lin’. Let me just squirt my load up in Maggie in there,”  He thumbed back at Maggie, “then you can have a fuck.”  He grinned wide at her and reached across her to smash out his cigarette in the tin foil tray, “Now how’d that suit you?”

She turned back and shrunk.

As he pulled back from her, he closed his eyes and inhaled her.  “Yeah, that’s some natural shit right there.  You can earn your twenty in about five.”

He looked over at Doug, who was busy waving hello.  He waved back and went back inside.  Twenty dollars?  What the hell?  I’m worth at least a hundred, Lily thought.  “A hundred.”  She said to no one.  She covered her mouth and looked around.  No one heard her.  I’m worth at least a hundred, you cheap shit.

Lily fetched a cell phone from her jacket pocket.  She tapped out a little pattern on the numbers, a practice dial.  She looked at her paper and mouthed a few words.  She looked at the phone again and at the paper.  Finally she pressed the numbers and made the call.

“Hello?”

She paused for a moment.  Say something, stupid.  “Hello?  David?  Is this David Messing?”

“Yeah.  It’s kinda late, who is this?”

“It’s um.  It’s, Erica, David.  Hi.  It’s Erica.”  She looked at her paper again and got her composure back.  “You and I have an appointment tomorrow morning to look at some of the new homes in Cherry Bay.  I am conform—“, she stuttered, “confirming our appointment and would like to extend my deepest sincerity for your time and consideration of me as a present and potential client.”

“Whoa, “ David chuckled, “Erica, it’s not an interview.  We put you on the books and I’ll show you the houses, ok?”  He yawned.

“Yes, David, and thank you.  May I get directions to the houses in question so as to…”

“Erica, hang on.  Hey.”  She was trying to stick to the script, but he could sense she was nervous.  “Look, meet at the office ok?  I will meet you at 8 a.m..  Don’t worry about anything.  Think of it as a relaxing ride looking at some houses."  David yawned again, "Look, I'll drive you everywhere and take care of everything.  Is this your first time?”

“First time?”  She was taken by the question.  First time at what? What was he implying?

“First time shopping for a house?  Exciting isn’t it?  So hey look, I’m going to.  Wow.  It’s late.  You should get some sleep, ok?  Long day tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep much.”  She said feebly.

“Well, ha ha.  Ok, well, I’m going to get a little more sleep and then we’ll meet, ok?”

“Ok, David.  I sincerely thank you again for everything.”

“Bye, Erica.”  And the phone disconnected.

All in all, “A” for effort, Lily.  She smiled, sincerely happy.  She did it.  David was going to show her houses tomorrow.  She stood up with a little bounce.  I hope the houses are nice, she thought as she walked across the street to the gas pumps.

David was so nice to spend the whole day with her.  She reached under her coat.

Doug had finished and was walking in front of the truck to her, “Frank is getting me the Baloney and.”

“Cheese” She helped him complete his sentence.  He wasn’t going to be saying much with that foot long spike slid up underneath his ribs.  As he tripped backwards she pushed that serrated screwdriver as far up inside Doug as  she could go.  She must have punctured something good because Doug was not doing too well catching his fall.  She had filed the makeshift blade down far too much, though, as it broke apart inside of Doug when she tried to pull it back out again.  She had barely three inches left sticking out of the handle, but more than enough.  She threw herself on top of the pile of Doug and hammered down onto his head and neck, decorating his soft parts with holes. Doug let out a tremendous cough of blood which seemed to trigger each hole of his ruptured throat and face to bleed out at once.

She got up to her feet and climbed up into the cab.  Oh, she wasn’t going anywhere in this rig.  She released the parking brake and slid the gear into first.  A cacophonous grind alerted ex-Frank, who was still inside, pulling his pants up and hobbling to the door.  But she had found second.  Ex-Frank barely got his last obscenity out of his mouth before she drove the gore of Frank’s smashed carcass through Maggie’s screaming bitch face.

The cab made it completely through the diner and was now parked calmly, ignition off.  Lily checked the last of her messages while she was climbing out of the cab.  Her little yellow Charger was waiting for her.  She pulled a long trash bag from under her coat and opened it up.  She stripped down to bare skin, laying everything into the plastic bag.   When she was done, she tied the bag shut and double bagged it.  She thought that she wouldn’t mind having a pool so much, but that she’d love some yard.  Maybe a dog.  Maybe not a dog.

She pulled some fresh clothes from the trunk, and dressed up.  She hopped into the front seat and adjusted the mirror.  She laughed when she saw all of the blood in her face.  “You are a lousy criminal,” she said matter-of-factly.  She wiped her face into some towels and threw them behind her seat.

She drove the car out onto the street, made a left, and travelled on.  The sun would be coming up soon. We can’t be late for David.

Benjamin confronts the church

More from the Circle book.  Benjamin is starting down a dark path which will ultimately spell his doom and get him a thousand years of demon crazy.

"I'm afraid that what you are asking is out of the question."

"You do understand that your position will make things… difficult for you in the eyes of the council"

Benjamin stared intently into the eyes of the cardinal.

"Do not dare to threaten me in my own house, I'm well aware that I am in the minority.  But last I checked, we were here to do God's work, not the work of some woman we hardly even know."

"Look," cardinal Salisan sighed, "I know where you are coming from, believe me."  Running his finger across a tapestry, "and you know I respect you.   You should really have one of the servants clean this-"

"Respect?"  Scoffed Benjamin. "You can't hold my gaze.   You refuse my summons to meet with me."

"We're meeting now."

"Are we?  Or is this simply your new duty as Lucretia's lapdog?"   Gazing into the far corner of the chamber, Benjamin twisted back to face Salisan, "You haven't even the spine to meet me alone."

Salisan hesitated and looked back into the same corner.  A slight guesture with his chin brought motion.   A dark hooded figure moved forward from the shadows.  "He's my assistant, that's all.  A mute, but a fine—"

"You insult the both of us."

"Fine." Salisan sighed.  "Leave us."  Salisan waved at the figure.   The visitor nodded and silently exited the room.

"Ok, we are alone now."  Salisan returned to Benjamin.   "Please reconsider."  A look of worry overcame the cardinal, "You are a good man, and no one doubts your integrity.  But things are changing, and if we want to survive, we have to learn to adapt."

Benjamin laughed, "Oh, my old friend, I will be around long after you have departed our fold.   You are intoxicated with the thrill of secrecy, but so bored with the responsibility of loyalty.  I am ten years your senior, and I have seen change in the wind.   But this woman is a fleeting element in the equation.  Her promise of a new church is nothing more than the segregation of good people.  You and I once saw alike on this.  The church and I once saw alike."

"Is that why you left?"  Salisan dropped his stance, showing real compassion for the first time in a while.

"I never left.  I simply could not perform duties so contrary to my beliefs.   Besides, from my position here, I can do more good for the people than I ever could under service of the holy church."  Benjamin recognized the change in tone and put his hands on his friends shoulders.   "I love you and yours, Salisan, and if I could do anything for them, you know that I would.  But what you are involved with is wrong."

Salisan gave a bleak smile, "I may be in too deep, my friend."  But as suddenly as the light shone through his face, it disappeared.   He knocked Benjamin's hands from their position, "You have to realize my position.  The council will have heard what has transpired here."

Benjamin walked over to a window and peered out across the town.  "Do as you must, but do it of your own will."   He looked back over his shoulder, "You promised to serve these people too."

"I – I'm sorry Benjamin.  I wish things could be different."   He bowed low and retreated from the room.

Alone in the chamber, Benjamin relaxed his shoulders, exhaling.  He had been speaking against the council for quite some time.   Ever since this woman came into town, though, he felt that he was losing a lot of the support on which he depended.  He walked out of the room, taking a moment to blow each candle out.   From far away, he thought he heard children.

"Sire, I believe the last of the ministers has left the hall.  Shall I bolt the door?"

Benjamin looked across the Great Hall to see his squire.  "Of course, Antonius."   He smiled warmly to his trusting pupil, with whom the last seven years had been a refreshing test of his devotion to instruction.  He approached Antonius, who had just put the locks in place, and with a fatherly guesture, put his hand across the boy's shoulders.

"You are growing to be a fine man.  Let not the drudgery of politics nor the acumen of religion change that."

"Sire?"

Benjamin rubbed his cheek.  "Son, I have a task for you.   Accompany me."

"Yes, Sire."

Benjamin reached into his sleeve and produced a worn parchment, flaked and browned with age.

"Find the rest of this book."

"I – I'm afraid I don't understand sire.  How will I know where to look?"

The pair rounded the hall, ascending the stairs.

"You won't have to look far.  From the writing on this paper I hold, I gather its owner will divine my theft and soon come to retrieve it.   But she will not find it, will she?"

Antonius stopped and shook his head, confused.  "She?"

"When I am discovered, you will know the owner and you will follow her.  The library from whence this treasure comes is ancient, and, I am certain, well secluded."

Resting a finger on Antonius, Benjamin spoke in hushed tones, "you will find the nature of this library, and from it retrieve to me this book.   I do not know the reaches to which my one-time peers conspire, but at its heart lies a dangerous deception, one intent on corrupting the minds of the learned and the strong."

They continued walking.

"You fear Salisan's mind has been won over?"  Questioned Antonius.

Benjamin closed his eyes and looked upwards as he paced.  "I no longer fear that which I have long since known."

"Then why do you permit him access to your solitude, my Liege?"

"I would not, except that I knew he held this."  Benjamin cupped the parchment with his hands, and with a slight motion, spread apart his fingers.   The note had disappeared.  With a sly grin, Benjamin reproduced the note from the folds of his accoutrements.

Antonius smiled back as he opened a wooden door, "Were you not so good to me, I would turn you in for witchcraft."

"That which frees a man from the power of men is considered witchcraft."

Antonius looked suddenly serious.  "You believe Lucretia to be a part of this."

Benjamin grasped Antonius by the back of the neck, "You would be wise not to mention her name aloud.   I fear her spies are everywhere.  Her power is great and, I am certain, derives from an authority far beyond that of the church in which she nests."

As the two entered the chamber, Benjamin stopped and began to whisper.

Antonius fell backwards as he saw smoke flow from his master's lips.

"Fear not, Antonius, for I am incorruptible and devoted to the Father."  Benjamin traced imaginary figures in the air and spit words in a harsh dialect.   From the air, Benjamin seemed to snatch something.  Turning up his palm, he showed Antonius a black stone.  "I have a few tricks up my sleeve for this group, this circle."

Around the stone, Benjamin wrapped the parchment.  "Do not leave this stone behind, lest you be found and all of my risks amount to nothing."

Antonius was visibly shaking.  "Master, have you gone evil?"

Benjamin smiled.  "Antonius, it is of great consequence that I studied the scripts of mine enemies, knowing that to destroy them, I had to learn from them.   But in the end, I will not be turned to evil.  I simply use the fire of my enemies to burn them."

Tower Race

Her hand burned as she threw open the front doors of Sidhe Towers.  Looking back, Sam spied the shadows skittering across the alley along the far side of the street.

Closing the doors, she could see the eyes of three seekers, fixed directly on her now.

She muttered the words and pulled a burin from her boot.

The hooded figures walked slowly, with dark purpose, towards the citadel.

Sam etched into the glass of the doorway an inscription surrounding an inverted triangle. "No passage."

The figures approached the door.  Each was white as bone. Each mouth hung open in agony.  Each fixated on the sigil, contemplating it. One of the creatures slapped a hand against the metal frame, the skin of its hand loose fitting and wet.

Sam stepped backwards, flailing her hand behind her, her fingertips finally catching the elevator buttons. Her chest was hurting, burning from the adrenaline. The machinery of the elevator engaged, and the whirring sounds competed with the whispers of the three gaunt creatures outside.

The wraiths stopped whispering and, the center figure approaching within inches of the glass, peering within,attempting a glimpse of its quarry.

Writhing fibers fell out from the vestments of the center ghool, and bony long fingers pushed through the skin of its hands, tearing through the fleshy gloves like razors.  It was the scarecrow. It pulled the face from its eyeless skull, smooth except for the teeth which spread from the space its mouth should be, but spread at all angled, as though stabbed into their sockets.  In a perverse tongue it cursed at the symbol and the glass upon which it was engraved shattered into a mist.

“Come on, come on!” Sam whispered, repeatedly stabbing at the elevator button.

The scarecrow stepped through the destroyed portal, and Sam recoiled.  The scarecrow began to scream, and other voices shrieked from within its body.  Voices of hate. Voices of ecstasy.

With a ding, Sam exhaled, and one of the tower elevators slid open. Sam stepped backwards into the elevator, resting against the rear of the car. The door did not close. “Shit.” Sam whispered to herself as she reached forward to stab a random floor.  Scarecrow broke into a run, its gate uneven. With a deep bass of a creature much larger than the wraith, she could hear the celebration.

"Your star has fallen."

The ground around the scarecrow rotted into green ichor and spread violently from its footsteps.  The doors began to close, but the creature was crossing the threshold, disease permeating the metal and rubber and tile.  Its claws curled at broken angles around the edges of the door, and she could see the outline of mismatched bones beneath its rags.  The scarecrow’s arms were strong, though its limbs appeared brittle. It’s mouth shaked violently as straw belched from its open shrieking mouth and the horrid sound filled the cabin.

"No!" Sam screamed, blocking her eyes with one arm while pressing the fingers of her free hand into the golem’s chest. The air shook as concussive wave blew her and scarecrow apart from one another. The doors slid shut and the elevator car rose.

She made it only to the tenth floor when the car jerked and lurched. The lights flickered. She wasted no time, and pulled open the elevator doors. She was caught between floors, but she quickly scrambled to the upper floor. A green taint was overtaking the car behind her and she could see the car plunge downwards.  The shaft was pungent and she could hear a strange children’s lullaby, sung through ragged vocal chords. She found her footing and pushed through a double set of doors into a stairway. Adrenaline kept her going, and from behind the walls around her she could hear children crying, close. She knew the dread creatures would be on top of her at any moment.

Two flights further up and Sam heard the crash of the creatures, who know had her scene.  A whispering manic cadence and occasional giggles, mocking the children’s moaning. The malice was palpable as the tendrils of putrid grew upwards along the stairwell.

Sam pulled a 9mm and fired it into the jamb of a door leading out of the stairway.  She lifted her boot and shoved hard. She tumbled forward, but used that time to releasing the clip from her gun and reload. Producing a second handgun, she rolled onto her back just in time to see a white seeker leap above her. Unloading with all the speed she could muster, she riddled the creature with gunfire. It lost its balance and continued its uncontrolled dive over her crashing hard into the floor. With a kick, she pushed the stairway door shut, slamming it hard on a hand grasping the frame. She sent a flurry of bullets at the hand, which retracted with a howl, and with another kick, the door was shut. She rolled back on her feet and began to run down the hall just as a hand from the crumpled wraith reached out, grabbing her leg.

Sam hissed an incantation against the creature and stuck her burin into its claw.  The crescendo of children screaming in pain accompanied the wraith’s own hawl as its hand burst into flame.  

She yanked her leg free and continued running. One of the seekers had reopened the door.  Not scarecrow. It shambled past its accomplice, who was shaking and contorting as its borrowed form went into a seizure. The prone beast tore the skin from his face, letting its true form show through. Unencumbered by its disguise, It lept to its mismatched feet from mismatched animals.  It galloped down the corridor after Sam. It was fast and driven. Wings opened from its back as it leapt to the ceiling, and inverted, clawed its to Sam, clawing its way to tear out her throat.

Sam took a sharp corner, and the beast, unable to adjust, overshot her. "No passage," Sam yelled as she produced a ceremonial dagger and shoved it sharply into the stucco of the hallway.  It wouldn’t hold the scarecrow, but it should restrain its minions. She reached the central area of the floor and caught two elevators open and waiting. Behind her she could here a low voice, “This swollen Earth longs for you." Scarecrow man was close. Sam took her knife and sliced her hand, flung a small pool of blood into the elevator car, and pressed the button sending it to the lobby while taking the second elevator herself to the 32th floor.

On the way up, she removed her jacket. "Benjamin, I need you. Help me." Tearing out some of the lining, she fashioned a bandage which she wrapped tightly around her bleeding hand. None of it could touch the ground, or the seekers would see her immediately. It would be only moments before her ruse was discovered. The screaming far in the distance corroborated this.

When the door again opened, she was in her office suite. It was silent.  Undisturbed. No sooner had she stepped out of the compartment than the lights went off. Emergency lighting flickered on instantly, and provided a meager illumination.  The power had been cut, and she was blocked access to the safe room.

Suddenly a wind, unexpected, blew across her face and children could be heard hushing in unison.

One of the seekers had foreseen her move, and was in the dark, waiting for her. She could see the shadow play across the wall as the thing moved in, but she had no hope of seeing the creature itself. It's breathing seemed familiar.

"Benjamin?"

The creature stood upright in front of her. "No." It sighed happily and pressed its claws against her forehead, preparing to take her face its trophy.

With a shriek, she fell backwards, slipping a dagger in between its ribs. It howled and reached towards its side. She muttered a quick incantation and the dagger burst into a jet of blue fire, and consumed the flesh of the creature. Without its mortal cage, it would be fierce, but also susceptible to the spells. As it giggled, screamed, and lumbered at her, she ejected an awkward syllable while striking the beast with her fist, sending the creature reeling. She wasted no time counter attacking the beast with a raking motion of her own, and with another incantation and a thrust of her palm, fired the creature through the suite and through the outer window, into the night air.

Retreating into the stairwell for a second time, she made her way up to the roof. She ran across the gravelly surface towards the edge, stopping short and flailing her arms. She stared thirty-three stories straight down to the streets below. Where was he? Sam’s hope sank. “Benjamin, where are you?” Her throat was ragged from the workout, and she seemed unable to throw off her scent. Scarecrow man was with them, and she was unable to get the devices from her office. She turned towards the door she emerged from and caught herself in a half sob. She looked around for possible rigging. Anything.

But there was nothing. She could hear the voices of children. Countless children whispering “hush.” She had read about this moment, about the children. Her hope was depleted.

Sam produced from her satchel a small vial. “Fuck this.” If she broke the glass against her skin, she would be doused, and would be a living bomb. Any seeker that touched her would trigger the reaction, and the entire roof would be obliterated.

As she eyed the vial, the door swung open. There stood three seekers, one still disguised as a man, but two now contemptuous monsters, wings spread agressively. Scarecrow passed between their ranks and tipped his hat towards Sam. "End of the line."

Sam raised the vial and as she began her death sentence, a form rose behind her, grabbed her forcefully and fell backwards, pulling her with it off the edge of the building. She lost her grip on the vial which spun upwards in an arc. One of the creatures desperately flew forward to catch the vial, but underestimated its fragility and it burst. A wall of flame exploded from the creature, cutting off her pursuers As she fell, she felt vertigo, and the creature which held her unfurled large wings which he beat, tearing her away horizontally at immense speeds.

"Benjamin?"

"Yes"