Hunter sprinted down the velvet-lined corridor while the Dog-Man loped ahead on all fours. Nails scraped marble, then carpet, then marble again. A silver tray clattered to the floor as they shouldered past a startled butler.
"Watch where you're…!"
The butler's curse died in his throat when he saw the Dog-Man's slavering jaws. A cascade of crystal goblets shattered behind them and red wine bled across the runner like fresh wounds.
The Dog-Man skidded round a corner and slammed to a halt beneath a ventilation grate that still swung on one hinge. A small shadow dropped from the ceiling and landed cat-light on the tiles.
The boy.
The Dog-Man lunged; teeth bared for the throat.
"Alive, you idiot!"
Hunter yanked the leash so hard the beast's forepaws left the ground.
The boy darted between the Dog-Man's legs and vanished through a swinging service door.
They crashed into the kitchens. Steam rolled in thick clouds. Copper pots clanged like church bells as the boy vaulted across a stove, slid under a rolling cart of bread, and sent a fifty-pound sack of flour exploding across the counter.
POOF!
White powder mushroomed into Hunter's face. He came up coughing, eyes streaming, whip coiled tight in one fist.
"Out of the bloody way!" he bellowed at the furious chefs.
"You maniacs!" one shrieked, brandishing a cleaver. "This is a reduction for the Archduke's quail!"
Hunter didn't hear him. He saw the back door swing shut and charged after it with the Dog-Man snarling at his heels.
They burst into a private gallery lined with gilded mirrors. The boy's bare feet pattered ahead, faster than any child had a right to move. He darted left, shoved open a pair of rosewood doors carved with cherubs, and disappeared inside.
A second later a woman's muffled scream split the air, followed by a deeper, wetter bellow of outrage.
"BLOODY HELL!"
Hunter's scarred lips curled into something that might have been a smile. He kicked the doors wide.
The dining chamber beyond was a cathedral of gluttony. A single long table dominated the room, set for one. Upon it lay two women, Elise and Sarah, bound at ankles and wrists, gags soaked with spit and terror. Their naked backs glistened with whipped cream and raspberry coulis. A towering Black Forest cake rested between them, a silver serving fork buried to the hilt in its dark heart.
Lord Carl Blackthorn sat behind them, bib already tucked into his collar, face flushed the colour of raw liver. Grease dripped from his chins.
Carl Blackthorn was a beast of a man who turned every meal into depravity. He liked his women alive and spread beneath the platters because the heat of their skin and the salt of their terror made the food taste better to him. When the last bite disappeared, he took them right there among the crumbs and spilled wine, grunting like a boar while the stewards pretended not to watch.
His partnership with Vanderznak gave him endless supply. He impregnated the captives whenever the mood struck, and the mad scientist collected the seed afterward for study and alteration. Most of the twisted children locked in the basement carried Carl's blood in their warped veins, yet Vanderznak's knives and serums had reshaped them into something far removed from human.
"What in the nine burning hells…" Carl spluttered, causing cake to fly from his lips. "Hunter, you cur! You dare interrupt my feast?"
The boy perched on the chandelier above, red eyes glittering, licking cream from his fingers.
"My lord, forgive me," Hunter said without a trace of remorse. He snapped his fingers. "Dog. Fetch."
The leash uncoiled. The Dog-Man bounded across the table, paws squelching through frosting and jaws wide.
Elise whimpered behind her gag. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut as tears cut tracks through the sugar on her cheeks.
The boy dropped.
He landed on the Dog-Man's shoulders and sank tiny teeth toward the jugular. The beast twisted at the last second; fangs met forearm instead of throat. Blood sprayed across the pristine linen.
Hunter's whip sang.
CRACK!
Leather looped the boy's torso, cinched tight, and yanked him off the Dog-Man like a hooked fish. The child thrashed, snarling, legs kicking uselessly.
Hunter planted a boot between the small shoulder blades and ground the boy into the carpet.
"Got you, you little freak."
Carl's face had gone from red to purple. "Do you have any idea how long the pâtissier worked on that gateau? Get that vermin out of my dining room!"
Hunter hauled the struggling bundle upright. "My apologies, my lord. The specimen won't trouble you again."
He dragged the boy toward the doors. Behind him Carl coughed; a wet, phlegmy hack; and pounded the table with a fist the size of a ham.
"Stewards! Clean this filth! My appetite is ruined! Ruined!"
His piggy eyes narrowed on a small flesh orb mounted discreetly in the corner of the ceiling. The pupil inside dilated, watching.
"And you, Vanderznak! Keep your damned pets on a shorter leash, do you hear me? I have the Marquis of Greymoor arriving tonight. If he smells dog and baby blood on my carpets I will have your eye for an olive!"
The orb blinked once, sullenly.
Far below in the laboratory, the yellow eye floating in the beaker twitched as though stung.
Vanderznak snatched it from the saline, wiped it on his sleeve, and jammed it back into the empty socket with a wet pop. He blinked twice before refocusing on Zareth dangling in his chains.
"Soon… Soon I will have that creature on my table. I will open its skull, weigh its brain, and learn every secret it hides." His mismatched gaze glittered. "And when I am finished with the brat, old man… you will beg me to let you die."
…
Elsewhere…
Nesbeth once bustled with life under the sun. Merchants hawked their wares in the central square while children chased one another through golden fields of wheat. Farmers gathered at the old market grounds to trade stories and livestock, and animals drank peacefully from a clear pond that reflected the high stone walls. Guards patrolled those walls day and night, for the town prided itself on safety in a world full of shadows.
Now the walls lay in ruins, great sections crumbled into dust and rubble. The pond had turned crimson with blood and floating chunks of flesh. Thick smoke curled into the sky from burning homes, and screams of terror mixed with guttural roars that echoed across the devastation.
In one shattered corner of what remained of the eastern wall, a mother huddled with her young child pressed tight against her chest. The boy whimpered and buried his face in her torn dress, but she stroked his hair with trembling hands.
"Hush now, my love," she whispered, though fear cracked her voice. "Mama is here. We will be safe soon."
BOOM! BOOM!
Heavy footsteps shook the ground and grew louder until a shadow fell over them. The wall exploded inward in a spray of stone, and a monstrous Tumor towered above the breach. It stood nine feet tall with twisted limbs that bulged with unnatural muscle, and a gaping maw split open its chest where rows of jagged teeth gnawed at the air.
The creature reached down with a massive hand that ended in claws like scythes.
"No! Please God! No!"
The mother screamed and clutched her child closer while the boy wailed in pure horror.
CLANG!
A sharp metallic ring cut through the air. The mother opened her eyes and saw a man who stood between them and the beast. He held a broad shield that had blocked the descending claw, and veins stood out on his arm from the effort.
He shoved the arm back with a grunt and turned to them. Blood and entrails streaked his white priestly garments, which marked him as one of the Convent's warriors. A silver badge pinned to his chest bore the number 15.
"Are you hurt?" he asked gently, though exhaustion lined his face. "Stay close to me. I will protect you."
The mother stared at his long silver hair and piercing blue eyes, then at the sword gripped in his right hand. "You... you're a Priest?"
He nodded and offered a weary smile. "Apostle Yohan Creed of Church Number Fifteen. Nothing will happen to you or your child while I draw breath."
A snarl came from the side. Yohan whipped around as a smaller Tumor scuttled toward them on spindly legs that ended in barbed hooks.
"Down, you fiend!"
Yohan hurled his broadsword with deadly precision, and the blade buried itself in the creature's chest. The Tumor collapsed and pinned itself to the ground where it twitched and gurgled.
The larger beast recoiled and coiled its remaining fist for another strike.
Yohan planted his feet and raised the shield. Brilliant light flared across its surface as he spoke through clenched teeth.
"Prayer Art No. 1: Divine Standing!"
BOOM!
The impact struck like thunder. Spiderweb cracks raced across the earth beneath Yohan's boots, yet he held firm. The Tumor's massive arm burst apart in a shower of flesh and black ichor that rained down around them.
Prayer Arts formed a sacred arsenal available to all Priests, whether they had awakened a personal Gospel or not. These techniques channelled faith into tangible power during exorcism raids. Divine Standing, the one Yohan invoked, governed unbreakable defence and allowed a Priest to fortify their body or any object they held against overwhelming force.
"Are you both all right?" Yohan asked. He knelt and wiped flecks of gore from the mother's face with the edge of his sleeve.
She nodded numbly, but her eyes widened in sudden alarm. "Behind you! Watch out!"
The Tumor's chest maw lunged forward with teeth that snapped shut like a trap.
CRASH!
A massive chunk of stone slammed into the beast's side and drove it staggering. Yohan glanced up as a woman landed heavily beside him. She wore piecemeal armour over her white priestly garb, with heavy gauntlets that covered her hands. Her long golden hair whipped in the wind, and a badge marked 15 gleamed on her chest. She stood bulky and powerful, with curves that strained against her gear.
"Fen!" Yohan called out. "Apostle Fennalin. Perfect timing."
She brushed dust from her palms and grinned. "Stop spacing out over my beauty, Creed! I will handle this big ugly bastard. You get those survivors to the shelter."
"Thank you for having my back."
Yohan urged the mother and child to their feet.
Before he ran, he looked over his shoulder. "Don't die on me, Fennalin."
"I won't let these Tumor scum finish me!"
She jammed her gauntleted hands into the earth and ripped free a huge slab of rock, which she hurled at the nine-foot monster with enough force to crack its hide.
Yohan secured his shield across his back and scooped the woman into one arm while he lifted the child with the other. He dashed away in a blur that left only dust in his wake.