#ya know what this is my today art cause i slept and woke up hungry and its still like.... 2hrs min before we attempt to drive

[moeblob]

Blue Son Boy.

[diddlesanddoodles]

Dumpling ch. 20

(Author’s notes: Posting this one early as a thank you to @thespicynoodle for all the amazing art work they did for Dumpling!)

To Yale’s credit, he did not immediately dismiss her claims of dead people in the walls as the  stressed induced imaginings of a lunatic. He waited for her to calm down and then asked her gently, “What do you mean in the walls? Here in the castle?”

She nodded, fighting a fresh wave of tears. “I saw them...when...”

“S’alright. Don’t force yerself. Just take deep breaths and talk when yer good and ready, eh?”

After a moment, she had regained enough composure to begin to explain just how she had managed to come across the catacombs.  

“Oh, Dumplin’. No need t’be scared of some dusty old bones,” Yale assured her. “The dead can’t hurt ya.”  

“But...”

“Probably been there since the castle was first built thousands of years ago. This place has been destroyed and rebuilt and switched hands so many times over the centuries I wouldn’t be surprised t’know it use to be a human castle. Someone had t’ave built them tunnels after all.”

“Yale...” she said quietly. She was so afraid to say it out loud. “They spoke to me...”

He blinked in confusion and seemed to have trouble understanding exactly what she was trying to say. “The...bones?”

“I’m not crazy...” she sobbed, feeling the shame and fear of not being believed, but Yale hurriedly hushed her.  

“Nah, nah. I believe ya!” he assured her, bending his head lower as if to show her his grinning face. “Just...never heard of bones talkin’ before.”  

He watched her for a moment, studying her face. “Ya tell Maevis about it?”

She shook her heard as she wiped the moisture from her face with the collar of her smock.

“Just you...”

“Just me?” Yale asked pleasantly surprised. “Well, don’t that make me feel special.”  

She could not help but smile at that and it was glorious how it seemed to break apart the heavy stone that seemed to have lodged inside her stomach. The welling of emotion seemed to be drying up and she began to feel a little more in control of herself.  

“S’ what did they say?” he asked, propping his head up in his hand. “These chatty bones.”  

“I couldn’t understand them at first,” she said. “But they were saying...the prophecy about the King? The one that… why everyone calls him the Gold King...”

Yale looked incredulous and just a bit disappointed. “That’s...odd. I would’ve thought they’d have something a little more interestin’ to say stead of that old thing.”

“But in my dream...the nightmare, I mean...” she said. “It said...he said that someone could see me and was coming...”  

“Hm,” Yale pondered that, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That what has ya scared, eh? Something from the dark’s gonna come after ya?”

"I don’t know...maybe...”

“Well,” said the young giant. “I’ll say this. You’ve had a rough go of it fer as young as ya are. I’m not gonna tell ya yer wrong to be scared, ‘cause if I were ya, I’d be terrified all the time. But if ya can believe anything, ya can believe me in this…"

He pinched her face gently between two fingers. “I ain’t gonna let anything bad happen to ya.”  

She did believe him, but even that wasn’t enough to fully erase the questions and concerns. As though sensing her doubt, he squished her face lightly and despite her somber mood,

Nenani could not keep the giggle from escaping. Yale hummed, satisfied.  

“Have I ever told you about my family or how I started here?” he asked. Nenani shook her head, still smiling, as she pushed his fingers away. He gave her no paused and scooped her up then settled into his bunk himself. One he made himself comfortable, he sat her down on one of his bent knees. “Well, there’s me Mum. Dad passed some years ago when I was small, around yer age. I’m the oldest and only son and then there’re m’ sisters. I’ve got six younger sisters, lass. Six! Lots of hungry lil’uns running round, gettin’ into scapes and pullin’ hair. I had t’be there fer ‘im when I was still a babe myself.”  

Yale paused, lost in thought, and then seemed to snap back to attention. He smiled warmly at her. “And ya remind me a whole lot of ‘em. Th’way they were back then. Suppose that might be why I took such a likin’ t’ya right after I first caught ya.”

He poked her in the belly, grinning when he was able to weasel another giggle from her.

“It was real rough after dad died. Real tough. Mum and me were at it alone just the two of us fer a long while, just trying to keep food in the house and a fire lit. I...didn’t handle it well. Started stealin’ and being a lil shit and makin’ hard fer Mum.” He paused to take a long rejuvenating breath. “I know how hard life can get when ya don’t have just one of yer folks around and had I lost Mum too...I don’t know what I’d done. I was a mess back then. Worried Mum sick that I’d end up arrested or worse. So she got me a job here as a tenderfoot under Farris since he had a reputation fer straightenin’ out snot nosed hooligans like me. M’first day I called Farris fat and he punched me in the face.”

Seeing Nenani’s incredulous expression, Yale laughed. “Oh yeh, I did. It took some time, but he managed to straighten me out right. Hatin’ him fer it fer a while too. But once he saw that I wasn’t entirely hopeless and actually had a brain, he made me his assistant and started teachin’ me about the spices and plants. Gave me responsibilities. A purpose. A direction t’my life that I didn’t have before. And in a lot of ways he saved m’life too. And m’family’s. S’why he call yell and scream and curse at me all he wants all day long and I’ll still be singin’ his praises till the day I’m six feet under the dirt. He made me family.”

“...but don’t you miss your Mom and sisters?”

“A’course! Oh, I write to�� em when I can,” Yale said. “Four of m’sisters are married with lil’uns of their own now. I try to visit ‘em just before th’ winter solstice, but I haven’t been in a long while. Last letter I wrote t’my Mum was just after you came to us actually. Wanna know what she said?”

“What?”

“Well, first she scolded me fer makin’ ya think we were gonna eat ya and makin’ ya cry, but then she also reminded me to remember what it was like right after Dad passed and all that hurt I had inside and how scared I was. She said imagine if ya were one of my lil’ sisters goin’ through all what ya were and to make ya feel like ya had a safe place to just be to get through that hurt.”  

He smiled sadly at her and for a moment, he looked much older than he was and she could see the faint traces of his own trauma etched into the lines of his face.  

“Now, I know we ain’t ya blood family and maybe we’re not the best role models fer a wee lass, but I think we’re an alright substitution. We do in a pinch, eh?”

Nenani belatedly realized she was crying again, but the fuel that was feeding the tears was an entirely different emotion. “So ya don’t need to be scared no more.”    

Gingerly, Yale wiped her cheeks with a corner of his apron. His smile was so comforting to Nenani that she could feel the last flecks of her night terror dissipating and leaving her with a solid sense of warmth and security. Wordlessly, Yale plucked her up again and settled down against his pillow before placing her on his chest and draping one hand over her shoulders and back, rubbing lightly. He began to sing…

Far away in the blue hill valley

Therein lies a weeping willow tree

Its bark is silver  

and the leaves are golden

But I care for none of these

Don’t cry my darling

For I am here with you

Though you can no longer see me

I’ll be with you

In the blue hill valley

Sleeping with you  

Underneath that weeping willow tree

…………………………………………..

When she woke the next morning, light was spilling through the open curtain to the barracks and she was confused to find that she was all alone. All around her, the other bunks were empty with clear evidence that they had been slept in, but no giants. She found it very odd that she had not been awoken with the rest of them, but as she thought about it further, she decided not to question it and enjoy the relative quiet and comfortable place on Yale’s pillow. However, just as she was drifting back to sleep, the light from the kitchens flickered and she opened her eyes to see Farris standing next to the bed, looking down at her with an amused smirk.  

“Enjoy yer pitty sleep, Dumplin’?” he asked. She stretched and tried to bury herself further into plush bedding while making an incoherent mewling sound that translated roughly to ‘I still wanna sleep’. Farris laughed and slapped the wooden support of the bunk above. “Yer burnin’ the mornin’ away, lass. C’mon, up with ya. Yer with me today.”  

She mumbled something in reply, but her words muffled by the pillow.  

“Well, suit yerself,” Farris replied, walking back through the curtains and yelling back to her, “Ya just wont be gettin’ any breakfast then.”  

Nenani pushed herself upright, strands of wild frizzled hair draping over her face and she hollered back. “No! Wait! I want breakfast!”

Nenani rolled down the pillow and hastily clambered down the side of the bunk and stopped just outside the barracks entryway where Farris’s boots blocked her path. He looked down at her expectantly and raised an eyebrow. “Yer lookin’ a lil’ bushy there, lil’un.”

Nenani ran her hands over her head and tried to brush down her wild hair. She had not braided it the day before as she normally did to keep it neat as Lolly had shown her, and having slept with it unbound had left her with quite a mane. Farris watched her try to tame her hair for a moment before shaking his head and bending down, crooking his finger at her and trying not to laugh. “C’mon, lass. Ya can try and manage that thing over yer porridge.”

Farris sat her on the long table with a small helping of porridge and handed a note off to a footman before disappearing into the spice pantry. Kol and Quinn were in the throws of the last big push for the morning’s baking and had no time for morning greetings as servants and footmen flooded in to collect their offerings onto trays and into baskets for the upstairs tables. Herit was on pit duty and still wore his torn shirt, now repaired, but not very well.  

“Feeling better?” he asked, smiling at her despite the arduousness of his task.

“Yeah, a lot,” she replied, flushing a little in embarrassment. “It was just a nightmare. Sorry for screaming...”

“I had real bad nightmare once,” Herit told her. “I dreamed that m’ old Gran visited me here and she started yelling at me fer not puttin’ enough sultanas in the scones like she’d taught me,” he said. “Then she turned into Farris, but still had on Gran’s frock and I ended up brunin’ the scones.”  

Nenani snorted into her porridge, which Herit deemed a victory, but his smug grin dropped as soon as Farris exited the spice pantry. The spice master pinned the younger Vhasshalan with a warning eye. “I don’t wanna be hearin’ nothin’ about me wearin’ yer Nan’s frock again, Herit.”

“Aye, boss.”

“Good lad. Keep that spit going now, no slackin’. It’ll put some strength into them beans ya call arms.”  

Red in the face with both embarrassment and exertion, Herit turned his attention back to turning the iron handle of the spit. A fat boar, just barely showing any color, rotated slowly over the fire. Nenani ate her breakfast, watching the comings and goings of the kitchen in full swing. When no one was looking, Kol ran over and slipped her a piece of sweet roll and then gave the remaining portion to Herit, who gratefully stuffed it into his mouth. When Farris walked back into the main kitchen, the young giant hurriedly began to turn the spit faster to make it appear that nothing was amiss while trying to quickly chew and swallow.  

Farris had began to organized a selection of various cloth covered pots and small satchels filled with herbs, placing the lot of them in a basket. Once satisfied,  he set a kettle onto to the fire and then took a moment to check the rotating boar. He hummed disapprovingly and turned his head to bark at Herit that he was turning too fast.  

“Yer gonna drop dead at that pace,” he warned. “Steady, boy.”

“Avery makes this look so easy...” Herit grunted, wincing as he went. “No wonder he’s built like a bull.”  

“Let that be a lesson to put ya off from fightin’ in my kitchen,” Farris laughed. “Think about yer sore arms next time ya get the urge to throw a punch.”

“What’s this about fighting?” Nenani’s head turned at hearing the familiar female voice and she smiled brightly as Lolly stepped down from the servants stairway and into the kitchen.  

“Nothing, lass,” Farris assured her. “The tenderfoots got into it last night. Gjerk’s got a busted lip, but that’d be the worst of it.”  

Lolly looked Herit up and down with a critical eye. She did not seem impressed. “Brawling at your age? Really. Your mother would swat you.”

“Already did it fer her,” Farris quipped proudly. “Pit duty fer that one today, then Gjerk’s turn tomorrow. A few hours turnin’ a boar will do the trick nicely.”  

“I suppose it would,” Lolly said approvingly before turning her attention to Nenani who was standing near the edge of the table. She crouched down, smiling brightly and gently took each of Nenani’s hands in hers, playfully swinging them to and fro. “But I’ve come to check on this one. How are you, my darling?”

“I’m doing good,” Nenani said. She had not seen Lolly very much at all since first arriving in Vhasshal as her duties kept her very busy and it made her that much happier to see her again. Lolly and the other lady servants had been so charitable to her and she had never forgotten that kindness. Lolly laughed lightly, turning her attention to Nenani’s wild mane of unkempt hair. “What are we going to do with all this? Haven’t you been keeping it tied up like I taught you?”  

“I have, I promise,” she assured Lolly. “But I didn’t yesterday. I...forgot.”  

“She had quite th’adventure yesterday,” Farris added. “Suppose ya heard all about the Ibronian.”

“Creag?” Lolly asked, saying his name almost like a curse. She scowled at the mentioning of it as though it left a sour and unpleasant taste in her mouth. “Yes, I am regretfully very familiar with his person.”

“S’ya hear about him tyrin’ t’kill Jae, then?”

“I did,” Lolly said, looking genuinely concerned. A stark contrast to how Nenani recalled the last time she had spoken about the King’s ward. “He isn’t hurt is he?”

“Nah, the brat’s still in one piece,” Farris assured her. He jerked his head down in gesture towards Nenani. “That one was with ‘im when the Ibrinoan went after ‘im though.”  

Lolly’s eyes grew wide.  

“What? No!” Lolly turned her attention back to Nenani, seeming to be searching for some evidence of injury or trauma. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? Ah! That bastard, I could skin him.”

“Oh, ho-ho!” Farris laughed, eyes bright with mirth at Lolly’s verbal slippage.  “Language, lass!”

“Oh, shut it, Farris. I’m sure she’s heard far worse down here with you lot.”

“Oh, aye,” he agreed. “That she has. But narry ya worry. He wasn’t interested in that one anyway. They’re both fine and unharmed. Rattled a bit maybe, but nothing more. Did manage to lose her marker though.”

“Oh, did she,” Nenani felt her face flush as Lolly hummed thoughtfully, scanning her over with a critical eye. “Well, I see you’ve gotten her a new one.”  

“Keral found her wanderin’ the halls alone,” Farris explained as he retold the story of the prior day’s escapades. He seemed to have been able to find the humor in it and didn’t seem to be at all angry and she was very grateful for that. “And ya know how he gets with ‘em.”

“Oh, you haven’t any standing this that defense,” Lolly reprimanded. “You’re just as terrible. You all had this one absolutely petrified. Took us over an hour to convince her she was safe and no one was actually going to eat her.”

Farris just shrugged noncommittally. He was not denying the accusation.  

“Best way to keep wayward humans from wandering onto the grounds is t’make ‘em too scared to even try,” he said. “’Course that was before I decided I’d keep her. Then she caught the reap.”  

Lolly’s eyes turned sad for a moment and she nodded knowingly.

“So it’s true then?” he asked her suddenly, bringing the topic back to Creag. “He’s bein’ sent off?”

“Yes,” she said. “He was escorted to the border this morning.”

“Suppose the Queen’s not too happy about that.”

“It was her idea,” Lolly replied. “His majesty was going to have him serve a small sentence and return back to her service, but she recommended that he be sent back home.”  

“Really? Well, I find that shockin’.”

“I know what people have been saying about her. And while I don’t think she has not been deserving of some of it, Queen Rosanna is making an effort to conform to our ways.”  

“The humans ya mean.”

“Yes. She’s been very receptive to my and the other ladies advice when we speak of their virtues. The war is over. These people are broken and lost and mean no harm to us. I think we finally began to get through to her and I believe that might have been what angered Creag into action.”

“That’s why he went after Jae? ‘Cause he was pissed his mistress might be changin’ her tune?”

“I don’t know this for a fact,” Lolly replied. “But the day before yesterday was when I suggested she try and make amends with Jae or at the very least allow him to properly apologize for his behavior. As a good faith gesture to the King at the very least. His majesty has been worried that Jae hasn’t come to see him in so long. Since the wedding, I believe. She must have noticed her new husband was not happy about that. And then yesterday Creag did what he did. And now here we are speaking of it.”

Farris leaned against wall, humming contemplatively. “Hm.”

“I was actually hoping to speak with Jae,” Lolly said, craning her head looking about the room. “He is here is he not?”

“Aye,” Farris replied with a nod. “King’s orders were to keep ‘im down here till he collected the brat himself. Bart’s puttin’ ‘im to some weed pullin’ out in the yard. Gotta keep them little hands busy or they’ll find their own trouble.”  

“Ah, good. I will go to him later,” she said, running her fingers over the brush of Nenani’s hair. “For now, though, I think I need to fix this one’s hair before she starts attracting birds.”

“Attracting birds?” Nenani asked bewildered. Farris grinned at them both.  

“She’s sayin’ birds might wanna start buildin’ their nests in yer hair,” he chuckled. “If they haven’t already.”

Nenani opened her mouth to protest, but could not come up with an adequate response.  

“Hm,” Lolly mused, again studying the whole of Nenani’s person. “Maybe a bath first and a change of clothes. Farris, could I trouble you for-”

“Already ahead of ya, lass,” Farris replied, pulling the boiling kettle from the fire and setting it down atop a wooden trivet. “I’ve got a basin ready in the pantry and her spare clothes are in the chest on the shelf just there.”

Lolly nodded approvingly. She gathered Nenani up and tucked her into the crook of one arm and reached for the kettle with her free hand. “If I didn’t know any better, Farris, I’d say you’re starting to become quite good at this.”

“Ain’t nothing to knowin’ when someone needs a bath, lass,” he laughed.  

“I do not stink!” Nenani snapped, incredulous.  

Farris did not reply and Herit just laughed.  

…………………………………….

She had forgotten how nice a hot bath felt, especially as the weather was increasingly cold and rainy. The basin was quite large and its normally use was for pealing giant rhotas, which were just very large potatoes. So she had plenty of room to splash about and Lolly even indulged her and allowed her a few minutes of free play before getting down to the business of actually washing. Her hair, as Lolly warned her, was a beast to get washed and untangled. But at last, Lolly exited the spice pantry with a clean and brushed Nenani. Hair neatly plaited and tied.  

“I’ll talk with the girls about making you some more clothes,” she muttered as she rummaged through the small chest of clothes, all of which had been made by her and her fellow lady servants. “You’ll be growing out of these ones in no time. And a scarf too, I think. And some boots, as well. These slippers are starting to wear awfully thin and – oh! Jae there you are! I had hoped to...why are you all wet?”

Jae had wordlessly entered the kitchens, red faced and fuming. And completely soaked from his head to his toes. Out in the courtyard, Bart was hysterically laughing. Upon hearing Lolly, both Quinn and Kol glanced over and upon seeing the boy’s sorry state, they too let lose a bout of hearty laughter.  

“Yer lookin’ like a drowned rat!”

“Fuck off,” Jae growled.  

“What happened?” Nenani asked.  

“The gutter was clogged,” he growled, not really looking anyone in the face. “I unclogged it.”

“Are you alright?” she asked.  

“No,�� Jae replied. “Not really...”

Jae leaped easily down the few steps and into the kitchen proper and made a bee line towards the hearth, ostensibly to warm himself up. Lolly stopped him, blocking his path with her foot.  

“You need to change out of those clothes, young man. You’ll catch sick.”

“Fantastic,” Jae replied flatly, glaring up at the large woman. “But it doesn’t matter anyway since I haven’t any spare clothes.”

“You have plenty in your room,” Lolly replied, returning his glare. “You remember, don’t you? Your room? The one you haven’t even seen in weeks?”

“Well I can’t get to them now,” Jae snapped, raising his voice and becoming visibly agitated. “Warren says I can’t leave till he says so. So here I’m staying. In wet clothes. Because fuck it!”

“Don’t take that tone with me, son,” Lolly shook her head disapprovingly. “What has gotten into you of late? You disappear for weeks at a time and when you do show up you’re in the Library and you don’t speak to anyone-”

“You mean I don’t speak to you,” he spat.  

“Or the King,” Lolly spat back. “Do you have any idea just how worried he’s been?”

“Obviously not enough to actually come and find me!” Jae yelled angrily, his voice breaking. “You tell me that I’m wrong for not going to him? Why did he never come to check to see if I was okay? Because I’m the joke. Oh let’s have a big laugh at Jae! Fucking idiot can’t do anything right. It’s so funny how he got drunk and spilled gravy on the Queen! So embarrassing for him. Let’s laugh at the poor fucking orphan boy who can’t even sleep in his own damn room anymore because some boulder headed lunatic thinks I’m somehow going to kill Vhasshalan’s unborn heir. Isn’t that fucking hilarious!”

No one was laughing anymore and Herit’s winding of the spit had slowed almost to a stop. Both Quinn and Kol were frozen and staring, bowls of dough stopped mid-knead. From the outside courtyard, Yale and Avery poked their heads inside, curious at the commotion.  

“Jae,” Lolly said softly, her words painted with faint concern. “None of that is true...”

“You wanna know why I spend so much time up in the tower with Barnaby and Maevis?” he asked, breathless with emotion and anger and pain. “BECAUSE THEY DON’T MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I’ A FUCKING IDIOT!”

“Alright,” Farris snapped, appearing from behind Lolly. He glowered down at the human boy and reached down to sweep Jae up in his two calloused hands, not very gently either. “That’s enough of yer bellyaching, ya lil’shit.”

Jae was not happy at all as he was lifted off of the ground and he struggled violently, tears blurring his vision. “Farris, I swear to the fucking Gods if you don’t put me down right now-!”  

Farris deftly grasped the boy’s face between his fingers, forcing him to maintain eye contact. “You’ll be quiet is what yer gonna be, boy. Do you understand me?”

Jae’s breathed hard through his nose, nostrils flaring. He glared into the kitchen master’s face, but did not say anything. Farris brought his face closer to Jae’s and lowered his voice in warning. “I said...do you understand?”

Jae jerked his head in something akin to a nod. Satisfied, Farris tucked Jae under one arm and turned to Lolly. “We don’t have anything fer ‘im to change into. Ya mind fetchin’ him something, lass?”  

Lolly looked as though she wanted to say something, but stopped herself. She spared one sad glance towards Jae before nodding to Farris. “I can do that. I won’t be long.”

As Lolly turned to rush up the servants entrance stair well, Farris turned and disappeared into the spice pantry and closed the door behind him.

………………………….

Nenani sat quietly on the table, staring at the green door and worried. Since she first met Jae, she had sensed a sadness about him, hidden under his jokes and laughter. And it made her incredibly sad to know her friend had been hurting and not once had she tried to help him.

She was a terrible friend and it made her feel wretched.  

“Cheer up, Dumplin’,” Yale told her as he took an empty seat near her. “Jae will be fine.”

“He was really sad,” Nenani answered back without looking away from the green door. Her dejected and sad frown gave Yale pause, and he reached out nudged her shoulder. When she turned her doleful eyes to him, he sighed.  

“Remember what I told ya last night?” he asked her. She nodded. “Well, he’s going through that hurt too. Best thing ya can do fer ‘im to keep being his friend, eh? He thinks just ‘cause we give ‘im a hard time means we ain’t ‘is friends, but it ain’t true. Don’t gotta be ‘round here long before ya realize we haze all the tenderfoots. He’s just growin’ up and confused. Old enough to know some things and too young to know anything else. He ain’t the same lil’ urchin the King dragged back from the moors all them years ago. When ya get t’be around his age you’ll understand. The time between being a kid and becoming an adult is really hard and confusing.”

“...will I be that angry?” she asked, not entirely following.  

“I’m ain’t no prophet,” Yale shrugged. “But maybe. Ya both have a lot in common, losing yer folks young. That pain can make ya real angry if ya don’t know what t’do with it.”

She did not find that to be much consolation, but she nodded anyway. Lolly returned a little over twenty minutes later with a small bundle and without any greetings to the others, she went straight for the green door and knocked lightly.  

“It’s me, Farris,” she said. “I have his clothes.”  

The door opened a crack and there were some words exchanged that were too quiet for anyone else to hear. Finally, Lolly nodded and turned back towards the stairway as the green door closed shut once more.  

Yale’s attempt at distraction was to have Nenani name all the herbs and vegetables as he went about his work prepping for the afternoon luncheon. Avery made himself a nuisance of himself by walking near their work table every so often and try to convince her that she was mispronouncing the names.  

“It’s not pars-lee, lass. It’s pear-shly.”

“No it’s not,” she said as he walked away. “Pars-lee.”

“Pear-shly!” he yelled back with a cheeky grin.  

He would repeat the exercise whenever he walked by and over the course of a half hour, its scope extended beyond just the items that they were working with to any random fruit, herb, or vegetable. Yale was no help and allowed the torment, finding it too amusing.  

“Tay-mat-a,” Avery quipped as he walked by with a basket of venison heads to be boiled down, heading out into the courtyard.    

“Tomato!” Nenani yelled back at him.  

Avery poked his head back inside and answered back, “Poy-ta-ta!”

“POTATO!”  

From her vantage point, she could just see Avery’s back as he turned towards the courtyard, but he stopped and turned completely around, hurrying back into the kitchen. He plopped his basket of deer heads onto a counter and peeked back through the archway.  

Yale stared at his fellow cook bewildered. “What’s all this?”

“The King’s in the courtyard,” Avery replied in a hushed whisper.  

Yale started. “What now?”

“The King!” Avery turned to look at Yale with fervent eyes, a mixture of excitement and confusion. “He’s in the yard right now!”

Yale was immediately on his feet and rushed to the archway, peeking out curiously. Nenani saw every muscle in the black haired giant’s body stiffen.  

“Oh, fuck. He is.”

“I wasn’t lying!” Avery protested, still in a hushed whisper.  

“Well so much’a what comes outta yer gob is rubbish,” Yale countered. “I had t’make sure.”

“Ah, go fuck yerself, Yale.”

“Not in front of the King, I ain’t!”  

Avery looked like he wanted stay mad, but his scowl broke and he snickered. Something outside caught both their attentions and they scrambled away from the doorway and stood stiffly to the side. A Vhasshalan guard, dressed in the same type of boiled leather armor as captain Rheil, walked through. He scanned the kitchen, eyes falling to all persons inside.  

“Over here please, gentleman,” he said to Avery and Yale, gesturing with a jerk of his head for them to stand off to the side and away from the door. Both cooks moved with alacrity and stood straight and stiff. He pointed to Herit. “You, over here too.”

Herit looked panicked. “B-but...but I can’t stop spinning the spit sir, it’ll burn!”

“I’m not going to repeat myself, lad.”

Poor Herit was shaking, looking between the guard and the green door and knowing very well what Farris would have to say of he saw Herit walk away from pit duty. Guard's orders or none. With extreme reluctance, Herit stepped away and moved to stand next to Avery and Yale. The guard spotted Nenani on the table and did a double take, blinking. “Ah...uh, y-you’re fine there, human.”

“Oh...okay,” she replied awkwardly. There wasn’t many places she would have been able to go in any case. She couldn’t climb table legs like Jae.  

“William, please,” said King Warren as he stepped into the kitchen. The air seemed thinner suddenly as everyone seemed to breath in all at once. He was much as Nenani remembered him, but he was dressed more formally than she had ever seen and his hair had actually been pulled back into a plait. “These men have plenty to do without us interrupting them. Please, continue as you were. I don’t wish to distract you from your duties.”  

The King nodded to each of the kitchen staff present and he eyes fell to Nenani and he smiled warmly. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, little ma’am. I do hope these fine fellows have been taking good care of you.”

All of a sudden, Nenani lost all sense of what she should be doing with her hands and her face felt hot. She nodded.  

“A-are you here to see Jae?” She asked, hoping she wasn’t stepping out of line. She suddenly realized she had not curtsied. Did she need to curtsy? How did one curtsy again?

“I am,” he replied with no inflection of irritation. “I’ve come to collect him, actually.”  

There was a part of her that was aware that she was being impertinent and she really just should remain silent, but she decided it was worth the risk. “He’s been really sad. But he won’t say it. And he’s really angry too, because he’s hurting. I think...I think he misses how things were before the wedding. Uh, your majesty.”  

She bobbed awkwardly in a pathetic attempt at a curtsy. Her heart thrummed alarmingly in her chest, hoping she had not insulted the King or spoke out of turn. But the King did not look angry at all. He looked sad in the same way she had seen Jae look sad.  

“Thank you,” he told her, voice gentle and he sounded sincere. “Thank you for taking care of him. He is very dear to me.”  

“You should tell him,” she said. “It would mean more if you told him.”

The King nodded thankfully before turning his attention to the green door. As though sensing, his Majesty’s presence, Farris pushed the door open and stepped through. He bent down in a shallow bow to King Warren. No words were spoken as the King walked to the door, giving Farris a nod before entering. Farris closed the door behind the monarch and stepped aside as the guard took post in front. The kitchen master gave the guard a once over and snorted as he moved away. A glance to his left and upon seeing the boar over the fire standing still, jerked his head towards Herit who was decidedly NOT at the hearth.  

“GET YER ARSE BACK ON THAT SPIT!”  

Herit leaped back to his place and began to spin in earnest, sweating and panicked. “S-sorry!”

Farris loomed over poor Herit, laying into him, but Nenani’s attention was drawn away as she was suddenly swept up and carried out through the archway.  

“W-what?” Nenani looked up to see Avery’s face. He grinned down at her.  

“Got a job fer ya, Dumplin’,” he told her.  

“What job?” she asked, frowning with suspicion. He walked along the side of the wall to a small window set near the ground. It was the window that looked into the spice pantry. He sat her down carefully and stepped back. She looked at him confused. “What?”

“See what the King’s sayin’,” he whispered. “Yer small enough no one’s gonna notice ya.”

“I-I don’t wanna get in trouble!” She replied, matching his hushed whisper.  

“Ya wont!” he assured her before slipping back inside the kitchens.  

She stared incredulously at the spot where Avery had been and then looked around the courtyard to find it quite empty. Bart and Gjerk were no where to be seen and neither was anyone else. Her ears prickled as she picked up the faint sound of the King’s voice and she turned to the window. It was dirty and obscured by weeds. Careful and trying not to make a sounds, she knelt down near the edge of the window and listened.  

“Are you going to speak to me at all?” the King asked.  

She wiped some of the dirt from the window and through it, she could see Jae sitting next to the basin, his hair wet, but now dressed in dry clothing. His eyes were red as though he had been crying.  

“Jae, I know you’ve been avoiding me these last weeks. But this silence is not helping. I cannot fix if I do not know what is wrong.”

“I just want to be left alone,” Jae replied, his voice raw. “I know your busy.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t make time for you. Gods above, I rely on you to give me an excuse not to have to speak with Lord Eldherst. I’ve had to sit through seventeen meetings with that old fart. He is convinced that the south moor would be the perfect spot to erect the new armory.”  

Jae’s morose face cracked a smile. “Heh. Serves you right.”  

The King seemed to take heart in his ward’s small smile. “Please tell me what you want of me.”  

Jae’s smile faded and he looked down at his feet, pained. “I don’t need anything from you that you’ve not already given me. I know...I know I’ve been a brat. I haven’t exactly made this marriage thing easy for you and I’m sorry for what happened at the wedding. I thought it would be easier for me to just...not be around while you and the Queen...y’know. Got to know each other?”  

The King looked tired and as Jae spoke, he seemed to wilt. “Rosanna does not hate you, Jae, if that what you fear. She wants a chance to apologize to you properly.”  

“Why? What does she have to apologize for?”

“For driving you away. From me.” Jae had spent most of the conversation staring at his feet, but upon hearing that, he looked up. “You are very dear to me, Jae. I owe you so much that I could never put into words and will be in debt to you for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t owe me anything Warren,” Jae snapped. “I was gonna die out there if you hadn’t found me. You took me in, clothed and fed me, you even taught me to read! I don’t want to be a burden or to get in the way. I don’t feel like there’s a place for me here anymore. So, it’s just easier this way.”

The King crouched down so as to be eye level with the human. “Why would you ever think you’re in the way?”

“You’re gonna have a kid soon,” Jae replied, scrubbing fiercely at his leaking eyes. “There isn’t a place for me by your side anymore. I...I k-know I’m not...I’m not your son, so...”

Jae’s words broke and he shook with real effort to hold back his emotions. King Warren looked awestruck and horrified. Then without a word, he reached out his arms and wrapped them around Jae, drawing the sobbing youth into him and tucking him into the crook of his shoulder.    

“What would make you ever believe that?” the King demanded. “Of course you are my son. From the moment we left those moors, I took on that mantle and I will never betray that vow. You are my son, Jae. And I love you dearly.”  

Jae’s eyes were wide and he shook as he began to cry and hiccup. His face disappeared as he buried it into the King’s shoulder.    

“Of course you are, you daft boy!” the king answered, though Nenani did not hear the question. She felt her cheeks and there were wet. But she was not sad. She felt happy and relieved and looked down at the King of Vhasshal, an imposing giant with the power of an entire kingdom behind him. And there was Jae. A human. Small and penniless. And she felt so happy for them.

The back of her shirt was abruptly yanked upwards and she was swept up from her spot on the ground and lifted high into the air. A warn calloused hand wrapped around her middle and she found herself the focus of a very unamused Farris. “Just what in seven hells d’ya think yer doin’?”

“Nothing...” she replied meekly.  

“Nothing,” he echoed back, clearly seeing through her. “’Nothing’ she says. First yer caught stealin’ from th’ King and now I catch ya spyin’ on ‘im? Yer sure determined to see them dungeons, ain’t ya, Dumplin’?”

“No!” she said, worried now. “I didn’t...I wasn’t! It...it was Avery’s idea!”

Farris covered her with his hand, muffling her cries of protest and shook his head with a long suffering sigh. “Yer hopeless, lass. Right ‘n properly hopeless.”

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away - Chapter 5

A/N: Get ready to spend some time with John! This is all types up on my phone, please forgive any grammatical or punctuation errors. No clue or the word count.

Warnings: minor angst, mentions of drinking, slow burn.

I was amazed I slept at all that night, but I did, and I slept well. I woke around 8 the next morning. Smiling. I popped out of bed to start getting ready for my morning with John, and the afternoon with the band. Excitement was better than caffeine any day.

I took my time getting ready, I even curled my hair at the ends, but still parting it down the center, as that seemed to be the style.

I was applying my perfume when there was a soft knock at the door. It was a little before 10, I knew it was John, but I couldn’t seem too eager.

I pressed my ear to the door and asked “who is it?”

I heard a chuckle and he replied “it’s John Deacon.”

When I opened the door, he was beaming at me, his eyes crinkling.

“Hi” I sighed at the sight of him, still shocked that John Deacon was at my door, “good morning.”

“Good morning, sorry I’m early” he said as he shoved his hands in his back pockets.

“That’s alright, I’m almost ready. Come in”, I said taking a step back.

As he passed the threshold into the room and closer to me, I put my hand on his chest, stopping him. He looked me in the eye, with a soft smile painted on his face. I leaned in, and he met me half way. The kiss was sweet and gentle, much like his hand on my cheek.

I pulled back slightly and said “now it’s a great morning.”

His smile grew as I moved my hand from his chest and he made his way into the room.

I shut the door and as I turn around I was stopped in my tracks when I found him sitting on the foot of the unmade bed, leaning back on his hands. Heat scorched through my body, aching to be pressed against him. I could tell John was having similar thoughts as he raked his eyes over me and bit his lower lip.

I let out a shaky breath as I made my way across the room and past him to a window where I’d placed my earrings on the sill. I was trembling slightly as I leaned over picked them up.

“So what’s the plan for this morning?” I asked turning around, catching him checking me out from behind. I guess there was something to these short shorts.

His cheeks turned red, as he stumbled over his words, “oh, uh...well, um whatever you wanted.”

“I was thinking maybe you could show me around the area today, so I can get familiar with it, then possibly over the course of the month I’m here, maybe you could show me other places? Buckingham, Trafalgar, ya know, the major points of interest...” I suggested. Maybe I was pushing things.

“Sure” he said “I aim to please.”

I looked up at him from putting my shoes on.

“Is that right?” I asked. He nodded, keeping a wicked smile plastered on his face.

I sauntered towards him, his eyes following my every move. Once I was in front of him, I leaned down and put a hand on each of his legs, giving them a gentle squeeze as I moved my lips to his, keeping just a breath apart. He tried to kiss me, but I moved back, earning me a raised brow from him. I hovered my lips over his again as I whispered, “I think I’m going to enjoy having you as my guide.” I brushed a kissed against the side of his mouth, stood up and turned on my heels.

Once I was at the door, I looked back at him over my shoulder to find him rubbing his palms up and down this thighs.

“Ready?” I asked cheerfully.

“Uh...yeah, sure” he said as he stood up.

I held my hand out as he walked up to me, he took it without hesitation.

**

Our morning started out with a stop at a small bakery he suggested because of their chocolate croissants, and was he right. They were delicious, I’d have to be careful, I could eat them every morning.

We stayed in the area, John telling me some history he knew, places that had been rebuilt after the war, and others still showing the scars of bombings on their facade. I could listen to him talk all day. He could read me the ingredients list off a box of cereal and I’d be enthralled.

He showed me his favorite record store, where we browsed around a bit, and he asked me about my record collection. I panicked seeing as I didn’t even have a CD collection any more, but luckily I grew up with parents who loved their records, I was able to list a few of my favorites off the top of my head,

“I like Ray Charles, The Beatles, The Temptations, The Beach Boys. I tend to listen to a little of everything I guess.”

He told me about bands he liked, and records he was looking forward to buying. His taste leaned towards Motown but he said the Beatles were one of his favorite bands, and mentioned that he really enjoyed Elton John’s “Your Song”.

Scanning the records, I found a 45 of “La Vie En Rose” by Louis Armstrong. I picked it up and showed John.

“I love this song! I have it as my...” I caught myself, I was about to say ringtone but that wouldn’t make any sense to him.

John looked at me, his brow peaked, questioningly.

“You have it as what?” He asked.

“I’m not sure what I was trying to say,” I laughed nervously “I just meant it’s one of my all time favorite songs.”

He’s caught my slip up, but didn’t seem too concerned with it as he spoke.

“Not sure I know that song, but I do know Louis Armstrong.” He said.

“La Vie En Rose” I said “it was in one of my favorite movies, ‘Sabrina’.”

“Not familiar with that one” he replied with a small shake of his head.

“You’ll have to watch it some day,” I said, and held up the 45 “and you’ll have to listen to this!”

“Promise” he said with a sweet smile.

As we left the record store he talked to me about school, and explained what he was studying. Most of which went over my head. He also told me he would be sitting some tests in the near future.

“I know you’ll do well” I said.

“You think so?” He asked.

“Of course. I just know it.” I said encouragingly.

Eventually we made our way back to Kensington Market, and walked all 3 floors. He even showed me where Roger and Freddie had a stall, even though they weren’t there that day. I could see why it was such a popular place, but he said he tended to avoid it because it was always so crowded.

As we left the market he asked if I was hungry.

“I could eat” I replied.

We walked to a small shop, where we bought a couple of sandwiches and sodas, since John suggested we have a picnic in a near by park. The same park I traveled to. The one I’d be traveling from. I made sure we were no where near that area as we sat in the soft grass. I had an irrational fear that I’d be sent back before getting to know him better.

“Tell me about your family” he said, as we sat in the shade.

“Well, I’m the youngest. My older brother, he’s 10 years older than me, he manages a book store, he’s not married, but I’d love for his current girlfriend to become my sister in law. My Dad works for a telephone company, he’s made his way to management over the years, and my mom is a housewife.” I replied, keeping with the story my friends and I had developed. My brother actually managed an electronics store, and my mom was a compliance officer at a bank.

I continued, this time with the truth, “I have a large extended family. There’s so many of use that family gatherings look more like block parties. But we’re all very close despite the sheer number of us.”

“What about school, what do you want to teach?” He asked, picking at a few blades grass.

“I hope to teach art, I love art.” Not a complete lie, I did love art, which is why I was majoring in digital art, my Dad and his mother both did their share of painting, where I leaned more toward photography and graphic design.

“Maybe we could visit a few of the museums while you’re here then” he suggested.

“I’d love that” I replied sincerely.

“What happens if your family should run into your ex, while you’re here I mean?” He asked, out of left field.

“Oh, well they won’t. He doesn’t live in my hometown, we met in college, so it’s unlikely they’ll see him. But if they did, what could they do? I’m already here.” I said with a laugh.

He seemed satisfied with that answer when I asked him to tell me about his family. Not thinking it might be a sensitive subject until he cast his eyes down.

He told me about his parents and sister, and how he lost his father at a young age. He shared his favorite memories of him with me. As he spoke I took his hand in mine. I could see why people labeled him as fragile in the future. But he wasn’t. He was sensitive, but that didn’t make him weak, he just felt everything deeply. The loss of his father affected him tremendously. As would Freddie’s. At that moment I didn’t give a passing thought to what my leaving would mean, but I didn’t know yet where our relationship was heading.

“Hey” I said softly, changing the subject “do you think we could make a stop so I could buy some beer? Just as my way of saying thank you again to you and your friends?”

“Sure, we can stop at the off license on the way to the flat.” He replied.

“The what? And what flat? I thought you had practice tonight.” I said.

He laughed. We’d been playing this ‘game’ all day. I didn’t know a biscuit was a cookie, or that bin was trash can, now I didn’t now what an off license was.

“An off license” he said, smiling as his eyes crinkling “is where you buy beer, wine and such outside a pub.”

“Oh you mean a liquor store?” I asked.

“If that’s what Americans call them, then yes.” He laughed and continued “and a flat is an apartment.”

“I knew that one!” I defended myself, playfully pushing him.

He took that moment to lean over and kiss me, and catching me off guard, we toppled over in the grass. I started laughing instantly while John looked embarrassed for a moment but joined in my laughter.

“You have a beautiful smile” he said.

“Yours isn’t so bad either” I replied coyly.

He leaned down, meeting my lips with his to finish the kiss we had fumbled. He lowered his body so it pressed against mine, causing me to moan into his mouth.

He broke the kiss far too quickly, making me whimper.

“As much as I’d like to continue this,” he said in a husky voice “I’d rather not be arrested for being ‘indecent’ in a public park.”

I doubt we looked indecent, we probably looked more like a tangled heap of arms, legs and hair, as mine was splayed behind my head, and his curtained our faces.

I huffed and said “damn rules and laws.”

He pushed himself off me, stood and offered me his hand.

**

As we walked to his shared flat from the off license, he suggested I was trying to bribe his friends since I had bought beer, wine and whiskey. He may not have been wrong.

“How do manage to practice here with out your neighbors complaining?” I asked as we approached the stairs.

“They’re mostly our age, so they don’t complain much. But we’re not plugging in tonight. And fair warning, be prepared for bickering.” He said as he opened the door.

I couldn’t wait.

@queensdivas @liliah39 @leah-halliwell92 @painkiller80 @painandpleasure86 @deakys-chesthair @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @heybuddy-drabbles @queenwouldyourathers @mirkwoodshewolf @anincurablefangirl @ixchel-9275 @deakysmisfire @thosequeenboys @tryin-her-best @bornonaugust191951 @deacyspatronusisacheesetoastie

[katoregama]

“Hunger” A Kenta Shoutaro Story

So heya guys. This is fic I wrote for my OC Kenta quite a while ago. It’s very long. Like, I recommend you take a lunch break to read it. But it gives you insight into how Kenta works. This fic details his transformation into the Syte alien, his subsequent realization that his alien biology requires him to eat people, and his relationship with the last humans he ever cared form.

Warnings: Some gore and body horror. Also this is college age Kenta written by college age Kato, so some content may by slightly (and unintentionally) offensive.

Also I’ll post pics at various intervals for reference.

Kenta yawned, and rolled over. His fingers groped through wrinkled sheets for stronger purchase, to pull them up further. He was still tired despite the constant droning of his alarm. A small part of him cried out inside that it was not ready to awaken yet, but one hand soon found itself flailing outside the cozy shelter of his bed, to swipe drunkenly at the disturbance. It was a standard routine in the life of Kenta Shoutaro to attempt this same action every morning, Saturdays included, before he simply got snug again and slept in. Truth be told, there was no viable reason for his morning tradition, as he worked a late shift at the restaurant, and didn't start work until noon. Aside from that fact, he only worked four nights a week, with a decent check deposited to his account once a month. He worked at a rather high-class establishment, and the tips there were good. Every Friday Kenta had a usual customer he liked to call 'Fat Andy', since the bloated man was well over three hundred pounds and ate just as much. Andy always left a sizable tip. Mr. Andrews was his real name, and he was something of an acquired taste. Fat Andy always loved babbling to Kenta about the "emmigrints" and "ayl-yuns" making life more miserable than God had partitioned it to be. "Them ayl-yun's are all over em' colonies. They don't know shiet' 'bout nothin', ya get what I'm sayin' Kenny?" Of course he understood, Mr. Andy. Kenta would smile, give a small laugh, and say some lie about not knowing any aliens. "Jus' the same. Jus' the same. HA HA HA! I like ya' I do. Yer' a real man Kenny, and not one o' them freaks." Then Andy would order appetizers, entrees, salads, and deserts. And Kenta just grinned and bowed to every whim. Whether or not Kenta agreed with Fat Andy about anything was moot point, since the only thing he could truthfully say he cared about was the money. Some people might have though Kenta was a miser, but in truth there was just never anything he wanted to spend money on. Maybe now and then he'd buy some nifty gadget that looked worth maybe an hour of interest. Laser pointers, CD players, toy robots, whatever. Entertainment was an obsolete commodity in Kenta's boring world. He'd be satisfied with anything to keep his mind and senses dead to the world around him. Well, not all of his senses. Two doors down from his apartment lived one of the hottest girls Kenta had laid eyes on. She was a collegiate girl working on a degree in the theatre arts, alongside her roommate. Every time Kenta woke up in the morning, and was slick enough to go through his work-prep routine, he'd be able to slip out his front door just in time to see the lovely and talented Samantha Corral locking her door, and heading off for class. She looked American in her face, but her hair was a smooth jet black. Her eyes were lovely and hazel. She never bothered wearing makeup, nor did she need to with the amount of natural beauty her genetics had favored her with. She wasn't very tall, but she was curvaceous, and spoke with a cute Manhattan accent. Sam's roommate Cally the Cow was a different matter altogether. She had long mousy hair in a mixed brown with brown eyes. She was a fair deal overweight, and wore the most unflattering glasses a girl could wear. What she lacked in appearance, she made up for in personality. Talking to Cally was a treat for Kenta, and he never judged her by appearance alone. He called her Cow, and she called him Ken-Doll. It was the sign of true friendship. Kenta didn't feel like moving this morning. In fact he couldn't remember much of the night before. If he had been drinking, sure he would have known at least. He'd have woken up with a nauseous stomach and a headache. Right now his only sensation was a gentle gnawing for breakfast. Beyond that he'd pass on his daily erection and banter from Sam and Cally. Today was Thursday, which meant he'd have to work tonight. Tuesday through Friday from Noon to Ten was Kenta's schedule. They were long days, but he kept busy. Plus it gave him three days of off time every week for which he was grateful. He considered calling in sick since today he was feeling more sluggish than usual, but opted he'd rouse himself when 9:00 hit. It did come around and a bit too soon for his tastes. He was just dozing off again when the familiar sounds of Sammy and Cally echoed through the hallway outside his door. Other sounds such as the shutting of a door, muffled dialogue, and keys jangling persisted for a moment before drifting off into silence. His stomach protested angrily with a moaning noise. Was he really that hungry? His internal organs seemed to think so. Thus, with a groggy flail he tossed the sheets off his body, letting cool apartment air shake him to full consciousness. It was time for a morning like any other.

Kenta left his apartment an hour early with sleep still clinging to his eyes. It was 10:30 AM when he turned the keys in his lock and headed downstairs. He waved to his apartment manager and began prowling the sidewalks on his way to work. Those same deadbeat thugs were smoking pot just outside, but he ignored them. No doubt they'd rough somebody up for cash today, but they knew better than to heckle Kenta. Truth be told he had something of an 'aura' about him as Cally stated, that would put the unfamiliar into a state of unrest. Something about him seemed darkly feral like a werewolf eyeing its potential prey. "Hey punk!" They called. "You! Douche in the hat!" Kenta kept telling himself to keep walking and pretend he hadn't been informally addressed. It was true, he was the only person in earshot, and he was wearing his knit-cap like always. And go figure they'd call him out just after he'd told himself internally that they wouldn't. Regretfully, he peeked over his shoulder to see them still leaning against his building. "Got a smoke?" They called. "Um, no..." Kenta replied with boredom. "What about cash?" "Fuck off..." Kenta continued walking. He heard them laughing behind him. The sort of giggles people would give if rocked with disbelief. Most likely they'd just forget he even existed. That was all he wanted. All he wanted from anybody these days. Truth be told, a week ago Kenta's ordinary life was momentarily interrupted by an unexpected death; his own death. A pilot was testing a special sort of machine to travel super fast and visit....new places. Regardless of the places it had intended to visit, the craft had discovered some other plane of existence for about 40 seconds, or so the stories told. The pilot re-entered colony airspace then, with the engines busted and deep claw-marks over the ship. And then that ship crashed as the pilot ejected. It crashed almost suspiciously on top of Kenta. There was no question that he had died. His legs were torn and broken, and his skull had been caved in. His body was completely crushed by rubble and there was no doubt that he was not alive. Due to the circumstances however, he was taken in by doctors, prior to anyone calling his family, and examined to 'make sure'. But when they went to the morgue to proceed with the autopsy, Kenta was banging loudly on the inside of the filing system for corpses for help. They wheeled him out, and to their immense surprise there was not a scratch on him. They did their searches for anything out of place, but the most they could come up with was that the body had been stolen and replaced by a live human being overnight. And the scientists could find nothing, not even a single speck of his DNA that was amiss. He was told to keep quiet. Kenta Shoutaro was back from the dead by some cosmic retcon, and in exactly the same form he was in before...almost. The first thing he had noticed was his teeth. He happened to be brushing them one morning to rid himself of nasty dragon breath before a shower, and couldn't help but feel they were different somehow. As paste and foam coated bristles massaged over his ivories he got the unmistakable feeling that these were someone else's teeth. The contours and crevasses didn't feel familiar somehow. He spat into the sink, and pulled back his lips to see if anything was visible. They didn't look strange to him. They weren't sharper or more perfect that usual. The best was he could describe the feeling upon closer inspection was that they just fit together better. He'd gotten so used to the small molar imperfections his life had ground, and now his jaws seemed to clamp together in absolute harmony. He bit the air a few times considering that he might have slept in a different position last night that caused this temporary alignment. Then two days later, it was his fingernails which needed to be trimmed much quicker than usual. Once a month was the standard trim, but that morning he woke up, he noticed immediately that they were in need of assistance. That morning he had hastened through his shower, scrubbing a little quicker than usual, and groping for his towel just as before. He thought to himself as he stepped out of the fogged-glass box, that his body somehow felt the same as his teeth and nails. It just seemed to fit together better. He was no stronger or larger than his typical exercises permitted, but something about the way his muscles looked and felt was just a little bit more in alignment. His abdominals; the envy of several of his friends, flexed a little more symmetrically for a moment, and appeared to mirror themselves in shape and size. All the same it didn't seem weird to him. It was just a natural oddity he hadn't noticed before. He passed it off as nothing important and continued life as usual, with no further alarms excepting the two jerks outside asking for cash. But as he walked down the street he couldn't help but feel as if he was being monitored. As if some foreign set of eyes was constantly watching to see what he'd do, and if it would be worth reporting to someone in a position of power. It had been that way all week. And the 'hooded men' hadn't escaped his notice. He never really got much of a look at them, but he was almost certain that these weird guys in hooded jumpsuits had been following him around 

--------

"Kenny! Where've you been buddy? Ah' heard you were in an accident!" Fat Andy looked genuinely concerned, which made Kenta feel a little better. "Oh, well you know. Nothing serious. Out of work a couple of days, but I'm back." Andy gave a selfless nod. "I bet it was one o' them ayl-yuns. Them illegal ayl-yuns they got workin' on them flyin' cars. Probably messed it up." "No one's really told me anything." "Well o'course they ain't gonna! Like I said fer' years, it's a conspiracy. A biggun too. And speakin' of bigguns, I've been wastin' away! Came in twice on days you were out, and walked the other way." "Really?" "That's right. You're my favorite waiter, Kenny, because you listen. Now I know I talk everyone to death, and most people roll their eyes at it. I know. I've seen. I can tell. But you listen, and you nod, and you never once judge me. All you're interested in is genuinely makin' my meal just how I like it. And I respect that." "Well, thank you Andy. Though speaking of your meal, shall I get the usual?" "You know what Kenny..." Andy sipped his wine, "...surprise me!" That night, Andy paid for the house special, and three helpings of mashed potatoes. He left Kenta an extra large tip, and got into his car. Most people, going through such familial bonding would feel really good inside. The sort of warmth one expects to receive from family members. But Kenta felt nothing as he watched Andy drive off for the very last time. He knew somehow, clairvoyantly it seemed that Andy would be dead within 48 hours. "Hey, space cadet, come back to earth!" Kenta looked back at his manager as he called, and gave a nod. "Yes sir." He was certain his manager would be dead too.

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"Hey fat-boy! We're eating out tonight!" She called. Kenta looked up from the register he was at in surprise. Over at the entryway, Cally and Sam were grinning widely. Cally was waving. It got Kenta to smile. Sam and Cally came to see him at work only when it was a special occasion. That, or they wanted a free slice of pie for desert, and Kenta was only too happy to oblige. He checked on his receipts again, and totaled them out as the hostess brought his friends to the same table Andy had been sitting at. Right now it was getting late, so they were his only customer. With a grin he slipped over to welcome them. "Hey, you!" Sam pouted. "I missed you this morning. I wanted you to wish me luck." "Not that she needed it apparently." Cally piped in. "I'll have a Dr. Pepper." "Tea please." Kenta nodded. "Just a sec, you can tell me about it." He gave Cally a gentle slap on the shoulder, and fetched the drinks. They knew the routine, so he didn't have to be so formal. When he returned, they were giggling. "Okay, so...Last night I got invited to an audition. They were looking for supporting cast members in a commercial." Sam took a sip of her tea. Kenta beamed. "You got the part?" "Not exactly." Sam corrected. "I went in for the audition, did my bit, and as I was heading back to the waiting room, they stopped me. They said: "Miss Corral? We want you to read for something else. Could you go down to Studio three in about an hour?" I said that I could, not really knowing what it was. I went there, and I found out, they were having an open-audition call for a supporting female role in a movie!" "Not a small role either. Sam gets to chainsaw zombies!" Cally crunched on a roll Kenta had brought. "Wow, really? That's great! So you got the part?" "They hired me on the spot! They said the film's producer was friends with the commercial director, and she just happened to see my commercial audition. So she called the film guys and her exact words were 'Hire this girl.' I'm gonna be in a movie!" She squealed and clapped girlishly. Then held her arms out for a hug. "Sam, that's amazing! Congratulations!" He gave her the affection she'd asked for, "Hey, where's my hug?" Cally complained. "I've seen the way you eat. No hugs for you." Kenta laughed. "I'm not in the mood for Chinese." They both giggled, and Kenta hugged her too. "So what can I get you ladies? Excepting the obligatory pie in celebration." "Awww, Kenta. You're so sweet. I wish there were more people like you in the world." Cally agreed. "You're such a nice guy Kenta." Kenta remained poker-faced. But inside he had to ask... "Am I?" 

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Breakfast the next morning was the first clue that something was truly amiss. Mostly responding to a bestial hunger within, Kenta topped off a massive bowl of cornflakes, and gouged into it. And by the time the bowl was mostly empty from ferocious devouring, he instinctively bit down onto his spoon. The silver head snapped off into his jaws and was swallowed before he was aware he'd eaten it at all. He suddenly felt the shock of norepinephrine oozing into his cranium in response to his after-breakfast mint. He gazed with a wide-eyed misunderstanding at the silver nub resting in his hand. Logic followed suit along with a terse giggle. Then Kenta dashed to his toilet, sticking his fingers as far back in his throat as he could. He was successful in forcing himself to vomit, but did not disgorge the spoon. In fact the only material that came up was a sickly yellow stomach acid that splashed into the bowl with a hiss. And could he only have convinced himself that it was an illusion, but he saw unmistakable trails of steam from potholes where the acid was eating through the porcelain. It diluted slowly, and was flushed and forgotten. When the sizzle of burning ceramics and the gurgle of water ceased, Kenta's stomach once again begged for nourishment. He felt he was starving in fact. Hungry enough to eat a spoon even. The sudden and bizarre change was attempted to be written off as coincidence, and he thought he could ignore the fact as he slipped out of his apartment to greet Cally and Sam. "Hey princesses. Sleep well?" The girls giggled, now forgiving him for not appearing the day prior. "Are you working today Kenta?" Sam asked. Kenta pondered a moment. "I wolfed down something funky in my cereal. I think I'll call in sick." "You know, when it says 'free prize inside' it means a toy, not more food, Ken-Doll." Cally bumped Kenta with her shoulder. Kenta laughed and tried to think of a response, but didn't get one out in time. "Yeesh, boy. Your shoulders are rocks! Stop working out so much." Cally began poking his shoulder. Kenta could feel it too. It wasn't right. "I know how to soften him up." Sam suddenly struck his midsection with her prickly nails in an attempt to tickle him. She was successful a few times, causing Kenta to retreat down the hall in defense. "Don't wander too far, boxer-boy!" Kenta kept testing the waters to see if he could approach safely again. Sam was still giggling, and holding her ground, ready to pounce whenever Kenta got in range. Cally shook her head, and then proudly exclaimed "Would you two just start dating already?" This caused Kenta to look a little shy. Sam did too. But when she recognized the similar hesitancy in Kenta's face, she retorted "Because this bum has never asked me!" She grabbed onto Kenta's arm and pulled him close. "Am I not good enough, Mister Shoutaro?" She gave an adorable expression. "I just..." Kenta blushed. "Uh...well...You're pretty hot. I thought you wouldn't....you know..." Both the girls laughed. "Well fine," Sam replied, "Since Cally has decreed it; will you be OUR date for a movie today?" "I'm...not really sure I-" Cally attached herself to the other side of Kenta's body. "It's too late, you're surrounded. Call in sick and join us! Jooooin ussss!" "Yes, jooooin ussss!" Sam parroted. Kenta sighed in exasperation. A quick flash of the broken spoon appeared in his head. "All right, let me change. Give me twenty minutes. Want to come in?" He opened the door to his apartment. Thankfully, it was still clean. Kenta was not slovenly, but there was laundry scattered in places. Hardwood floors, white walls, open windows, and a white couch made it very hospitable. There were still cornflakes scattered over his small wooden dining table, but he quickly brushed them aside. Protesting the unfinished meal, his stomach let out a low moan. "Fat boy, you need to fix that empty stomach." Cally protested. "You have any food in this place? And last night's take out doesn't count." "Um...maybe. I have some stuff." Kenta shrugged. Sam smiled, catching Cally's drift. "That's a great idea! You go get showered, and we'll make you breakfast, since you got us a free meal last night." "And call in sick! They'll be fine without you for a day." Kenta let out a non-committal chuckle. "Well, I doubt they'll be too bothered if I miss one night. All right." he reached for the phone.

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Kenta hadn't suspected that he would never work at that restaurant again when he called in sick. He wasn't fired, the restaurant simply ceased to remain after the events of the following four days unfolded. The manager in fact sounded relieved. "Hell, take TWO days off if you need it, Kenta. You've not called in sick once in the four years you've worked here. Not once. Plus you'd always fill in if asked... I was afraid you'd never stand up for yourself. You're just so nice. I kept thinkin' people were going to be taking advantage of you.... But if you want to sneak away for a few days, I won't mind." "Oh...well thank you sir." "Don't worry Kenta. Get well soon." The connection ended, and Kenta was left holding a dead phone. He was so hungry. He ate a good breakfast, but it didn't satisfy. He smiled, and laughed, and chuckled as he wolfed down the toast and eggs Cally and Sam kept shoveling down his throat like a child's game. It was a good morning, despite the hunger. But the images of that spoon never left his mind. If he could do that to solid metal without even noticing, then what could he do to say... a human hand? He could take a guess. It was obvious he was changing. He began to wonder how, and what else he could do. As the three left the apartment building in good spirits, the two punks watched them carefully. They didn't say anything this time, but they watched. And there came that feeling again. A shiver ran down Kenta's spine as a hooded figure walked the opposite direction past the three, not even paying them a glance. But Kenta's eyes followed it unwittingly, and eventually, as a result locked gaze with the two punks. They stared right back at him without blinking, and they didn't smile. Kenta had gotten their attention now... Sam snapped her fingers a few times. "Hey, wake up!" "Huh?" Ken looked back at her. "I asked when you got the tattoo." She poked his neck. "Tattoo?" What tattoo? He didn't have one. But apparently, she saw one...He had to play along. "Oh, you know. A while. It's nothing." He rubbed his hand over the splotch. He'd have to check a mirror first chance. He was certain nothing that had been there earlier that morning. They went to a movie, and lunch, and again he ate like he had been starving for months. He also took a moment in the men's room to check on the marking Sam had seen. She was right. It was a spidery blob about the size of a quarter, in a deep inky-blue color pressed onto the skin. First the teeth, then his nails, then his body, and then his acid-barf. Kenta could then confirm something was wrong with him. It was an obvious thing. He HAD died somehow. He HAD been crushed by that experimental craft. But the catch was, something brought him back. And it was making improvements.

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Kenta cut away from the two girls early, and found himself in a junkyard not far from the apartment. With no one around, he could perform tests on what he expected had changed in him. The first thing he tried, he didn't expect to work. He went to a protruding steel beam, and clamped his jaws tightly around it. Oh it still tasted like horrible rusted metal, but it still bit off just as clean as a piece of bread. He quickly spit out the nasty object, and watched as his saliva burned away at it. Testing this out as well, he turned his head and spat at a crushed vehicle. This time, the spittle hardened almost instantly, and yanked back like an elastic band. Had he any desire, he could have eaten the hood of that car when it ripped off and flew at his face. This then led to a curiosity he expected from the start. He went to a disused vehicle, and to no surprise found it gave his enhanced muscles no more trouble than a barbell. It seemed that the longer he held it aloft, the lighter it got. A fact proven true when he could soon bounce the entire crumbling vehicle with a single arm. "HELL YEAH! I'm a freakin' superhero!" He shouted. Then he took off running. The longer he ran, the faster he got, never tiring, and steamrolling through solid steel he didn't bother to jump over. And if he DID jump, he could cover 10 feet, then twenty feet, then forty feet in single leaps. And anytime he stumbled with his momentum and crashed into a pile of sharp, iron junk, it was the junk that broke and never his fantastic new skin. This unexplainable blessing which occurred to him never once crossed his mind as anything dangerous as he sat there amongst a pile of scraps. Then his stomach growled deeply. It made sense. With great power came great appetite. The smartest course of action would be to run down to the corner store, at a human pace, and buy some snacks on the spot. Nothing strange, nothing unexpected. So he got to his feet, and dusted off the flakes of fine rust. New and improved Kenta Shoutaro was starving. A hero's work was never done. So he practically frolicked down to the corner market, and slipped to the back to get a TV dinner or seven. Then the tinkling of the bell over the entrance drew his attention as a man in a ski-mask wasted no time in pulling a gun on the cashier. "Money. Bag." He stated as he threw a canvas sack at the man. The cashier slumped as he raised his hands in defense. "Christ, this is the third time this month." "No shit, old man. Maybe you should move. Or pay protection money." "You damn hoodlums." The cashier's hands moved to the register in defeat. Kenta laughed. Not quietly either. He outright blared with sardonic glee. This was it. It was really happening. This was what he was meant to do. It was fate. "Something funny, nutsack?!" He robber called he pointed his gun squarely at Kenta. "It's...ha ha ha...so great. I'm going to get to foil a robbery. Isn't that...isn't that awesome?" The thief cocked the gun, and fired twice. The explosive rounds shattered through the air, and Kenta was sent tumbling to the floor. The thief walked over, and kicked Kenta's foot twice. "Asshole." He muttered, and then turned back to the paling cashier. "Double-time you old fart, before you join the idiot, and I self-service the cash myself." The cashier didn't move. He just looked scared, but not of the thief. "What are you deaf, old man!? MONEY. NOW." The cashier pointed carefully, as Kenta stood up slowly, and giggling. He picked a bullet from his skin, and examined a dabbling of black ichor on its flattened head. "That stung a little." Kenta hissed. "Oh my God!" The robber exclaimed. He fired again, and again, and again. His gun ran out. He didn't even stop to take his bag; he simply made a run for the back exit. On instinct, Kenta spat a wire of burning elastic that burned through the thief's jeans, and stuck to his leg. As he yelped in pain, the recoil whiplash him off his feet, causing him to fall to the ground. Kenta could have sworn he heard something crack as the robber clambered to his feet, and began limping down the alley out back. A feral lust filled Kenta's senses. The prey was running. A weak little prey. A prey he was a thousand times greater than. He swung out into the alley behind the retreating criminal, and let out a terrible noise of insectile triumph. Then he opened his mouth, and a barrage of hundreds of sticky, acidic wires were disgorged over the prey's body.

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An hour later, Kenta shakily found himself crouching behind a dumpster at the place he worked. The robber had been arrested. Kenta had saved the day. But when they found him, he was badly burned, and trussed up in some kind of tough-as-shit goop that Kenta had spewed all over him. Out of respect for Kenta's heroic acts, the cashier didn't reveal the identity of the savior, but all the same it could have been that he feared for his life from Kenta's wrath. Kenta was still incredibly hungry, and he was starting to suspect why. He not only could have killed that burglar, he could have digested him as well. He didn't want to think about what had happened. He didn't want to feel that same rush of power. He didn't know if he wanted his powers gone, to be sure, but he decided then and there that he'd have to be extra careful to keep them under control. True, he was chasing a criminal, but what if it hadn't been? What if it was Sam or Cally running away in merriment? What if on instinct he pounced on them and... "Kenta?" There was a clinking of discarded bottles as a bag was flung into a dumpster. In the darkening light, it was obvious that this was Kenta's manager. "I thought you were home...sick? Are you all right buddy?" Kenta slowly rose to his feet, eyeing his boss like a snake. Every sway of the man's body drew attention. "You look terrible. Are those bullet holes?" He began to approach. "Don't come any closer." Kenta took a step back. "Dude, what's...what's wrong with your eyes? Seriously, can I help you out? Come inside. Let's clean you up, and you can tell me what's going on, okay?" Gently, slowly, calmly, he placed a hand on Kenta's rigid shoulder. Kenta tensed a bit, but soon relaxed. He seemed to be regaining his composure. "O-okay..." He looked at his shaking hands, and was warmly led inside. His manager was right. Kenta got a look in the mirror for the first time since the afternoon. The tattoo had spread over part of his face in intricate blue-black webbing. His left eye was completely black with the faintest glimmer of gold at the center. His clothing was ripped and shredded all over from gunshots, and horseplay. Glimpses of his muscles below the tattered rags made it obvious that his body was affected. It wasn't so much that he was larger, but he simply looked stronger. His physique didn't bounce or stretch like normal flesh, but stayed rigid and solid with every movement. And his nails on the left hand were centimeters longer than before, sharpened to points, and of an increasingly dark hue. And for a moment, he saw a vision. A flash really. Something he couldn't interpret. He was sure it was a face. A white, featureless face with black eyes and yellow pupils. It was the face he was sure he'd find under the hoodie of that jumpsuit person who'd been watching. But then the sureness passed, and he was left more confused than ever. The manager slipped into the back room. "That Andy guy is here. He said he's willing to help. He'll drive you to a home or hospital, all right? He's a good man." Kenta let out a small sob. "Thanks....I'm sure I'm fine." He tapped his hand to his cheek. He could see the manager's reflection nodding. It was time to go.

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Kenta had somewhat shamefully walked out of the bathroom, and Andy had a look of shock and anger on his face. "Oh God." He cried. "Them ayl-yun's got to him, the bastards!" Kenta then listened to Andy drone on feverishly about aliens and their misdeed for half an hour. Kenta didn't think whatever had changed him looked that terrible, truth be told. He wasn't so much scared of the changes as he was of the instincts that came with it. Then again, what if he was becoming a monster? He didn't see many noticeable signs yet, but his fingers did have those ominous claws. And then there was that burglar. Maybe he got what he deserved. At the very least, Kenta didn't kill him. But the man was terribly scared, and his skin would have burn scars all over. But what could he do?  Kenta couldn't go to the police, or the hospital, could he? Once curiosity hit the people of the world, he'd be all over the news, labeled a freak, and locked away somewhere until they decided he dissect him. He didn't want that. Not at all. But what choice did he have? He was now something not entirely human. He didn't know where it came from really, or why it picked him. And now he was trapped and had no course of action -(eliminate the witnesses)- he could take. "Kenny, I'm so sorry they got to you. You know I'll help ya' out buddy. Yer' good to me, so I'll be good to you." Andy gave Kenta a genteel pat of consolation on the shoulder. His expression somewhat soured. "Christ, boy. Has anyone ever told you you're built like a rock? God, I couldn't have guessed." He pinched Kenta's shoulder a little. Then, as if concerned for personal space, he drew back. He gave a curt nod. "I'll drive you wherever you want." Then there was a snap. Not a physical one, but a definite sudden switch was thrown in Kenta's head. He felt the instant change, and the sudden urge to speak. "Take me to the hospital." he found himself saying. He didn't know why he would choose to go there in his current condition. "It's nothing serious. I just need some antibiotics." Andy grinned. "Sure thing pal. Do you uh...want to get a bite to eat on the way? Your stomach's been growling nonstop." Kenta gave a pleasant smile. "Sure. We'll stop. We'll eat." He licked his lips. With a hearty grin, they were soon on the road. The longer they drove, the more delirious Kenta became. He didn't feet sick, but he did feel uncomfortable being in such a cramped car. Andy kept talking, and he never stopped. The droning of his voice and the bleating of the radio began to become uncomfortably noisy. He found his head was rolling almost constantly. And he was so hungry. He felt like he was about to roll over and die. "Andy...Andy... I need... food." Andy glanced over. "Shiet, Kenny, you all right? Yer' lookin' half-dead." "So hungry...HUNGRY!" He banged on the dashboard unwittingly, fighting instincts and hunger. The casual blow sent a crack through the glove box. "Holy-shiet! O-o-okay we'll just-" "Stop the car. STOP THIS CAR NOW!" Kenta screamed. He had to get out of it. He had to get into the air. He had to get away. Andy slammed on the brakes, stopping the car in the darkness, at a location he didn't recognize. He was breathing hard. When he finally composed himself enough to glance at his passenger, he noticed the right car door was now missing along with the seat's occupant. "Kenny?" He called hesitantly. Trembling hands gripped onto the car keys for luck. He told himself to drive. He told himself to run away, and everything would be fine. The truth was, Andy was terrified. Something was seriously wrong with Kenta. And valuing his life, he put the car back into drive, and hit the gas pedal again. There was a heavy bump, but the car didn't move. The back tires flailed and protested, but the car had hit into an obstacle, darkly silhouetted in the headlights. Oh, but Andy could see his eyes. Those terrible yellow eyes glowing fiercely, and staring deep down into his heart. Then the creature, whatever it was, raised a single hand, and swung it over and into the engine. Before it destroyed the gears and pistons, and tore out the battery, Andy could see it was no human hand, but a two-pronged talon, with each bladed extension easily six inches in length. The silence and darkness shrouded Andy in a petrified stupor. His eyes, unadjusted to the shadows forced him to rely on his ears which picked up scrapes and clicks from all around. "Kenny?" He whispered. He was beginning to suspect that whatever had held his car in place, and destroyed the passenger door, had killed his friend. An even worse thought crossed his mind that it WAS Kenta, but he found that notion impossible. He had known Kenta his whole life. This was a real live monster, and not the quiet young man who always served with a smile. He again tentatively called the name. Then there came that hissing and plopping noise. He couldn't explain in. Like rain spattering softly on the roof of his car. The crinkling of metal and that same fizzing noise from directly above. The cool night air began to creep in around him, and he looked up to see moth-eaten holes in the metal roof of his car. And the openings were still widening like flesh being burned away. A droplet of something fell onto his ear and stuck there. Then he could hear the fizzing, and popping. He reached to dab at the tiny droplet in utter shock, and examined his fingers to discover fresh blood was seeping from his ear. Then came the sting. It was the alarm of a thousand needles tearing at his ear at once, and it caused him to scream, yell, frantically throw open the door and go rolling into the gravel beside the vacant road. He tossed and flailed like he was on fire, as his consciousness diminished for the final time. And the moment before he died, he saw through terrified eyes, a humanoid figure with terrible spines sticking from his back hunched over on the car's roof. The bristles protruding from the arched spine were sharply barbed and razor sharp. They wavered impatiently as the figure hopped off the car on all fours. The arms were now elongated to match the legs, and rippled with new muscle. The creature perched itself next to Andy's body, and opened the still human mouth. Then it unleashed a torrent of spidery-webbing, which completely coated Andy in a matter of moments.

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Once again Kenta's eyes flew open to the pulsing beat of his alarm clock. This time however, he threw off his sheets and made a dash to the bathroom. He was completely naked as he did so, and didn't even notice the red-stained shreds of clothing he slipped on during his run. He fell over the toilet and disgorged a supply of stomach acid, still pink from blood. The shock of the moment forced tears into his eyes and he came to instantly realize that he had not been dreaming. Last night, his instincts took control and he'd killed a man. No, not killed. Devoured. And he was still insatiably hungry. He flew to his fridge, and emptied anything he could grab down his throat. And by the time the refrigerator was empty, he had only been mildly fed. He heard the noise of two girls talking in the hall. And he quickly threw on pants and whipped the door wide open. "Kenta!" Sam smiled. "Thank goodness you're okay. I heard you were a little sick." Cally was gnawing on a Twizzler and gave a slow series of nods. "Oooh!" Sam seemed delighted, and with a short giggle, poked Kenta's abdominals. "I wouldn't mind seeing THIS every morning." "S-sorry...” He backpedaled a few steps, letting the door creak open. "Just...just doing laundry." He picked up a few scattered articles in his arms, finally noticing his torn shirts from yesterday, still dotted with what was left of Andy. He concealed it in his laundry bin. "Are you sure you're okay?" Sam called, with a small expression of curiosity. "Yeah, I'm fine." His stomach growled. He clutched it in mild pain. Cally snorted. "Boy, you have the biggest appetite I have ever seen. And I'm the fat one here!" "You want us to make breakfast again?" Sam gave a chuckle. "No! No I'm good. I'll have to go shopping later. Where are you off to?" "Work work work." Sam shrugged. Cally made whipping motions with a Twizzler, and mouthed out whiplash sound effects. "Well uh...good luck, and uh... break a leg. He waved with a grin as he pulled on a shirt. Dismissing the two girls, he slowly shut the door, and then doubled over in agony. "Hungry....so hungry...." He went rummaging through his pantry in a stupor. Anything that could be consumed was shoveled into his mouth, as he tried to forget what had happened. Poor Andy didn't deserve to die. The incredible guilt shivered through Kenta's body, aware that he had in fact consumed a live human being. And yet, distraught as he was, he couldn't bring himself to pity the man. But he did fear the future. Andy, was just a frequent customer, not a friend. What would he have done if it were Sam? Kenta rocked back and forth slowly on his bed, clutching his stomach in pain. An hour had passed in this way, until he finally settled into a depression of hurtful immobility. That was when a figure in a black-hooded jumpsuit took deliberate and silent footfalls up the stairs to Kenta's apartment. A gloved hand reached out mechanically, and slowly turned the knob on the unlocked door. His long fingers were shrouded in a deep black color, identical to the rest of his frame. He stepped slowly into the room, and made his way to the back, raising his head enough for Kenta to see the expressionless white mask covering its face. The creature's yellow eyes blinked in wonder. "What...what are you doing in my apartment..." Kenta ventured. He was delirious with starvation. The creature nodded. "The pain will pass, but only if you feed." It slowly pointed to the window. Curious, and scared he managed to muscle himself over to look outside, and to the street below. The two junkies were heckling an old woman as she passed. The creature stared into Kenta's back. "They won't be missed." So it had come to this. Without even fully understanding why, he had to eat other humans now. "Andy...why Andy..." The creature laughed. "Because you chose him. Because the moment you realized it could have been that burglar yesterday, you made up your mind to feed on someone you hated." "I DIDN'T HATE HIM!" Kenta snapped. "GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT!" "But of course....It's not like I know what's going on or anything..." Kenta whipped around at the reply, but the hooded man had vanished. He had a point, whoever he was. Those two deadbeats wouldn't be missed. As long as he was willing himself to do it, it was easier. Reason and rationalization came to tell him that this was simply survival of the fittest, and the two scumbags on the street did not deserve the skins they walked around in. And it was ever so easy to lure them away. He simply stepped outside, glared at them, and called them 'cock suckers'. It certainly scrambled them to attention, and brought out their switchblades. Kenta ran towards the storage basement for the apartment as if he would find safety. They of course followed. "Freak, I'll cut your throat open!" The leader of the two exclaimed. He dashed in after him, with his knife out. "Wrong place to run to, bitch." The other goon seemed to be a bit smarter. "Yo, Mikey I don't think this is such a good-" "Can it, Bernie." Bernie looked around the basement area with a serious expression. He recognized when someone deliberately went somewhere. They were being led here. "Mikey, let's just get outta here!" "Pussy." Mike waved his friend away, and proceeded. "You can't hide, you fuck. I'm going to teach you some respect. You hear me?" Kenta's cold voice called from the back of the basement, "I can hear you....I'm sorry....I'm so sorry..." "Sorry ain't gonna cut it no more, freak. I've gotta teach ya' in person." "Mikey please, let's just go!" "Bernie, I swear to God, do you want to be next?!" Then Mikey, just after he turned to face his companion, was violently pulled backwards with a yell. He screamed and flailed as acidic strands enveloped his body, casing him a human sized pod of a fleshy paste. Kenta lurched out from behind the boxes. His bulging arms had become the same inky blue-black hue, and were riddled with twitching spines. His face was likewise covered in the same intricate pattern, and his eyes were a deep black with yellow centers. His body was contorted as if his muscles were trying to rip out of the skin, just like the foot long blades which had grown from his back. His lips curled into a growl, letting acidic drool fall from them. He shook a moment, and called out to Bernie. "This is your only chance." And Bernie took it. He whirled around and made a mad dash for the door. He skirted by boxes, knocking a few over in his flight, but it was too late. Just as he was taking the steps upwards and out, the hooded figure shut and locked the door. A subtle voice signaled off in Kenta's head. -"Eliminate the witnesses"- His stomach still growled. He was happy to oblige.

There were other victims of course. Mr. Andy Andrews however, was the first victim to which a body hadn't been found. The trail was as clear as day, however. In the afternoon, some punk held up a convenience store for petty cash, and he got wrapped up in a blanket of acidic mucus. And now, a car belonging to Mr. Andrews was found discarded on the side of the road, with the engine trashed, the door pulled off its hinges, and the same goop stuck to the roof. The Colony had a monster loose in it, and Detective Bowers was certain he was going to find it. Exhibit A, a young man in a black tank-top, plaid shirt, and black knit-cap was described as taking two solid shots from a pistol at point-blank range, and then standing up as if nothing had happened. According to the store manager, the victim then pursued the man outside, and then later the robber was found trussed up and in extreme pain. Then, exhibit B this very morning the Andrews car was found, and witness leads brought him to a restaurant where he came from that night. The manager didn't want to give a name at first, until Bowers showed a photo of the discarded vehicle. He was quick to implicate a young man by the name of Kenta Shoutaro, who Mr. Andrews had been escorting home that evening on account of Kenta's apparent illness. Kenta apparently was frequently seen in a knit cap and plaid shirt. Of course, there was no promise Kenta had done anything. It could be the kid was wearing Kevlar when he got blasted, then ran out into the alley to play hero. Or maybe the robber missed, or the gun misfired. Since no murder weapon or security footage was found, he had no hard evidence to go on as of yet. Either way whatever beastie had killed Andrews, had probably earlier in the day scared Shoutaro all the way to work. From there of course, Shoutaro wanted to not go home alone, and the creature caught up with them during the drive. The passenger door was most likely torn off, meaning Kenta was gone, and the thing killed Andrews soon after. Either way, Kenta was his next lead, assuming he was still alive, since he'd been crucial in two attacks. He tracked him down to an apartment building, knocked for entry, but with no response. The neighbors weren't there either, which left him to speak with the building manager. According to her, Kenta Shoutaro was one of the nicest guys on the planet, and would do anything to help his fellow man. A real boy-scout at heart, though a little quiet. She also related that 11 days ago, Kenta was involved in an accident which was all over the news. He was apparently taken to the hospital, and released without complaint. Oddly enough, he apparently didn't have a scratch on him when he got back home. The kid must've had a guardian angel. Or a good cover story. The point was, he wasn't at home, and until his body turned up he was a suspect on this apparently supernatural case. In truth, Kenta had just polished off the two thugs Mike and Bernie. They had been cocooned in pods, melted to mush, and sucked through a proboscis orifice that came from Kenta's tongue. Like a mosquito sucking out blood, Kenta practically inhaled the goopy remains of the recent two victims, leaving nothing behind but the empty, blood-splattered sack of tissue that had formerly encased his prey. He didn't know what to do with that. But when he turned around, the hooded/masked man was standing right there. Except, this wasn't the same one. This one seemed...different. "Not to worry." It spoke in a voice, different from the first. "No one will ever know." It reached down with a gloved hand, and pulled the empty pod away. "Who are you..." Kenta ventured. "You and the other guy...why are you helping me?" "We are Zeron. Your loyal servants." The first one walked in, nearly identical to the second. "You got away with it. But there are still more witnesses." "Eliminate all witnesses." The second chimed in. Their chittering echoed in Kenta's ear. "God, what is happening to me!?" The first hoodie laughed softly. "You must feed for now. You will rebalance normalcy in time." "I don't WANT to eat anybody. I'm not a killer!" "You're such a nice guy, Kenta." the first Hoodie said. The second echoed with, "Such a nice guy." A mournful growl fell from Kenta's jaws as he collapsed to his knees. The first hoodie placed a gentle hand on Kenta'sshoulder. "Consider. You have only targeted bad people." The second hoodie kept chiming in to support the first. "People who have hurt other people." "Had you not, your instincts would have fully controlled you." "You would have hurt people you love." "People you want to be with." "You still can." "Feed on the bad people." "Eliminate all witnesses." Kenta took a swipe at the two. "FAT ANDY WASN'T A WITNESS. HE WAS AN INNOCENT MAN! I killed him...God I killed him." "He would have hurt you." "You've heard him talk." "He hates aliens." "He hates YOU." "Where do you think he was driving you? Home?" "Did you not notice he missed the turn-off?" "And the hospital was the opposite direction." "He was taking you to the police." "He was taking you to die." "You defended yourself." "You eliminated a witness." "STOP! Just stop it... STOP IT!" He swung again, but they didn't seem to be around anymore. They had again vanished, along with the evidence. Relaxing, he felt the claws and spikes retreat back inside his body. It was a confining feeling, as if he were being trapped in a box. He took slow steps towards the basement door, but as he reached for the handle, a gloved hand gently clasped over it first. The hoodie had somehow slipped unnoticed right beside him. He placed a finger to this lip-less mask, and gave a soft hushing noise. He whispered, "They are looking for you." "The police?" Kenta was honestly shocked. "Stay here or you'll have more witnesses." The hoodie nodded. "How long have you been watching me?" Kenta's eyes narrowed. The hoodie looked him squarely in the eyes. "Twenty three years." Kenta almost stumbled. "Bullshit! I'm 23 years old! I would have seen you before." "No, you wouldn't have. You only started to see us 11 days ago...." "The crash..." Kenta was putting the puzzle together. "That ship. It went somewhere not on this planet..." The hoodie nodded. "To collect the savior. , though that was not the intention of the pilot. It traveled to a place outside of your imagination... A realm beyond human comprehension... And the savior was brought to you." "I'm just a fucking vessel..." He seemed downtrodden at this. The hoodie shook his head slowly. "No. The savior has no will over you. To you it is only a power. Therefore you are not a vessel. Now YOU are the savior." "A savior who's killed three people..." "Do you wish to be a nice guy forever, Kenta? Do you wish to coo, coddle, and cower at the world which has shunned you to a role of obsolescence? To bend and bow to every whim and wish; to serve and prostrate yourself before the inexplicable masses? Or do you wish to take this magnificent gift you have been given, and push back? We do not believe you are a nice guy inside; we believe you are a savior!" Kenta paused. "We? How many of you are there..." There was a shuffling from throughout the basement. One by one, five figures emerged from behind boxes, shadows, and coat racks. He had never seen them while they hid. There was an eerie alien quality about them. Their bodies were not identical, but their faces, hoods, clothing, and masks were all exactly alike. They wore black jumpsuits which had dark blue stripes on each side seam that looped upwards around their chests, and connected at the base of the hood in back. The jumpsuits were slightly fitting, but not too much so. There was enough to discern that each had a relatively human shape underneath. Their suits included gloves which had clearly five fingers, and boots of a human shoe shape. Beneath the hoods, the human-shaped heads were covered in cloth that showed not a patch of skin. And of course, over their faces they all wore completely flat masks that had no features, excepting holes for the black and gold eyes. "Six...Six hoodies." "Zeron." The one next to Kenta whispered. "Six Zeron." Six Zeron. Servants to Kenta. Servants to the savior. The one next to Kenta placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Now. Eliminate the witnesses."

--------

Detective Bowers laced his fingers together, choosing his words carefully as he addressed the whimpering man before him. The incarcerated man's whole body was wrapped tightly in gauze, making him appear to be a mummy. This was the man who had been found wrapped up in the acid pack after robbing a convenience store. "I'll be blunt. You're a wanted man. Mostly just petty crimes, gang violence, theft, vandalism, but then you have attempted murder, actual murder, manslaughter, so on so forth. With your records, you would most likely receive the death penalty." The man gave a small sob. Bowers continued. "However, I am sure I will be able to grant a measure of leniency for your cooperation. As it stands, you are presently the only witness to whatever...thing...has been going around making a mess. So far we have two missing persons, and evidence that one of them may have been killed. And the other...may have been the one who attacked you." The man shivered without response. Bowers slicked his hair back with a hand. "If you can provide us information about whoever attack you, perhaps we can-" "Yellow eyes!" the mummy said suddenly. "Yellow eyes...claws...not a human. Not human at all. Sh-shot it...shot it again and again...never went down. Never died. I ran." "Okay...okay." Bowers nodded. "The man you shot, was he the monster?" "NO! NO MAN! Didn't shoot a man...Shot the monster." He was crying now. Bowers pulled out a photo of Kenta he had requisitioned. "Tell me. Is this the monster?" The man was choking behind tears. "...yellow eyes...claws...." Bowers nodded twice. "We're going to keep you here tonight. Just relax, and let us take care of this." He wasn't sure if mummy-man was 100% okay in the head, but he knew there was a fear in him that was very real. That, plus the tissue sample analysis convinced Bowers with certainty that something inhuman had in fact attacked the previous evening, and two people were presently unaccounted for. "Sir!" A fellow officer approached Bowers with a contorted face. "What now?" "We've got another victim." "Any eye witnesses?" "No sir. But there's no doubt of an attack." "Any security footage?" The officer gulped. "Yes sir... It was recovered moments before I we received the call." Bowers looked at the officer with a serious expression. "I want to see it. Immediately." The Detective wasn't sure how to proceed now. The violence was unmistakably feral. An outdoor camera panned a shot of the alleyway in silence. The restaurant manager Bowers had spoken to earlier in the day then stepped outside to throw a trash bag into the dumpster. Right before he let go, he obviously heard something. He must not have seen it, but a shadow had passed by. The silhouette was very clear, but passed by quickly. Too quickly for the manager to identify it. He delicately set the bag down and took a few cautious steps in the direction of the shadow. Then his face paled, and he started screaming. He didn't even have time to run, before a spray of strings shot of out the darkness, and yanked him off camera. The shadow returned. The shapes were blurred, but it looked like a giant alien porcupine was viciously mauling its prey. Bowers slumped. In his head, he forgot all about Kenta. "I'm going down to the crime scene." He got his coat. It wasn't entirely in Detective Bowers' best interest to leave so suddenly. After he made it to the crime scene, he became aware that the monster had been selective with its victims. Bowers guessed that it had been in the alley behind the convenience store when the burglar ran out to escape the civilian hero. Using it's method to trap prey, it trussed up the robber, but Kenta Shoutaro saw this happening, and ran. The monster, instead of consuming its prey decided it instead did not want to be discovered, and chased down Shoutaro. However, he was able to get inside his place of employment before he was caught, thanks to his manager. Later, as he was being escorted home, the thing attacked Kenta again, finally killing him, and his escort. During that time however, the burglar was taken into police custody. Now, tonight, the web of witnesses was steadily growing. The restaurant manager was the first, which left several more potential victims. For one, Bowers himself had viewed the tape footage, then the officer who'd handed it to him. The robber of course had seen it in person, and the convenience store owner was also a likely victim. By the time Bowers reached the restaurant crime scene, and got the idea to start pulling people off the case for safety reasons, their mummy-man robber and witness was dead. His name was Eddie, they had discovered, but this title became unimportant shortly after it was introduced. He had been sitting quietly in his cell, wrapped up and shaking, when there came a tapping outside. The small barred window became fogged with an animal's breath. Then, with a slight hissing, the glass melted away. Eddie heard that subtle noise, and turned to meet it. His vocal chord collapsed in fear, as three fully inhuman eyes on the side of an inhuman snout blinked in sequence from beyond the window. Then it poked its head in, and let loose a barrage. He was yanked flat against the wall, sobbing softly until going under. With its slender talons the creature took its time wrapping Eddie up in his shell, and leaving him to melt. Eventually, Eddie became liquid enough to squeeze through, and was carted off to be consumed in privacy. When an officer discovered Eddie was no longer in his cell, she was completely baffled. The only clue was that the window was simply gone. Not broken, but gone. Even so, the hole could never have fit a human body, especially one wrapped up in bandages. The robber had essentially vanished. The convenience store owner came after. He was driving home from work when something attacked his car. The vehicle was completely ripped to shreds. At the very least, Bowers was able to collect evidence to form the conclusion that the creature was most likely semi-quadripedal, and that each foot had two sharp talons and an opposable thumb. It was an easy enough conclusion, based on the fact that at each of the three crime scenes that night, claw marks were the only things left behind. But those marks terrified Bowers when he compared them. Making notes of length and depth drew an obvious conclusion. Whatever this creature was, it had been feeding on humans. And it was growing larger with every meal.

"They deserved it. Every last one of them." "Witnesses...Thieves...Liars..." "A criminal holding up a convenience store. He tried to kill you." "And the owner stood by and did nothing. He didn't even care when you were shot." "And that fool of a restaurant manager has been taking advantage of you for years." "You did the right thing. You did what a savior would do." Kenta groaned, and grabbed his ears. He was sitting upright on his bed in a white t-shirt and jeans. He was becoming terrified of himself, and his instincts. Each time he changed, he liked it more and more. The freedom and power it gave him was overwhelming. Out there, in the night, he could be something else. He didn't have to be such a nice guy after all. He could be cruel. He could be terrible. And he could be a savior. The only thing which still wracked him with guilt was his uncontrollable feeding. Last night, after devouring three people, he felt a small amount of satisfaction. "Please..." He choked out, "please tell me I'll stop killing. I don't want to hurt anybody...." But he found himself lashing his head, and shouting back at himself. "Are you kidding me? And go back to being a nobody!?" He turned the other way to reply. "I don't care. What I'm doing is evil..." "You're not killing for fun, you're killing for survival. Are lions evil for eating gazelle? Or sharks for eating fish? Humans for eating cattle?" "They're my own kind. They're humans..." "Haven't you been paying attention? You're not a human anymore. It's good that you have sympathy, but if you refuse to feed, you won't get a choice upon whom." He'd finished arguing with himself. As he did so, one of the Zeron approached, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have far to go. Tonight you'll finish the work, and you and your girlfriend will be together. She'll never have to know." "Don't bring Sam into this...don't let her know." Kenta hissed. Oh what terrible irony then resounded from the apartment hallway just outside. Three knocks on his neighbors' door, followed by Cally's confused "Hello?" "Is this the residence of California Jones and Samantha Corral?" "I'm Cally, yes? Is there a problem?" "Miss Jones, I'm Detective Bowers with the Colony PD. I'm here to discuss the present status of yourself your roommate, and potentially your neighbor." "Are we being evicted?" Cally sounded terrified. "I'm afraid this is a bit more serious. Is Miss Corral present?" "Yeah, hang on. SAM! THERE'S A DETECTIVE BOWERS AT THE DOOR." "A detective who?" came Sam's voice. Bowers responded. "Miss Jones, Miss Corral, we have reason to believe that two nights ago your neighbor here, Kenta Shoutaro may have been involved in, or witness to a murder, including himself as both a suspect and potential victim." "What!?" Sam sounded shocked. Cally gasped. "No, he couldn't have. We saw him yesterday morning, right before he left." "Really? Is Mr. Shoutaro home right now?" Kenta could almost feel Bowers looking at this door. "I think so...he usually leaves when we do..." Cally explained. "Ladies, I have reasonable suspicion that your lives may be in danger. Has your neighbor expressed any uncharacteristic behavioral symptoms recently?" "No. No not at all. He was a bit freaked by...by the accident. Do you watch the news?" "Yes, Miss Corral. I am aware of Mr. Shoutaro's recent history with the experimental aircraft. Off the record we have reason to believe an extra terrestrial life-form may have accompanied the craft during its crash, and that Mr. Shoutaro may have been a surviving witness. I'll explain more on the way, however, I would like you both to come to the station and remain in secure custody. We have reason to believe your lives are in danger." Kenta twitched violently. He shut his eyes tightly as he remained sitting upright on his bed. He didn't see the eyes of the Zeron bearing down on him, but he felt them. He knew what they wanted. He could see it clearly. They wanted him to get rid of anyone who might know what was going on, or have the stones to do something about it. Anyone in that loop they were trying to get rid of one by one. And now... He hadn't paid attention to anything else, when three knocks came upon his door. He didn't move. "Mr. Shoutaro, this is Detective Bowers with Colony PD. Open up." A Zeron whispered in Kenta's ear. "Tell them a lie. Tell them what they want to hear." "Ken?" came Sam's voice. "Ken, are you in there?" Kenta slowly moved to the door, and creaked it open. The light from the hallway spilled onto his face as if he was being interrogated. Sam gasped. "My God, Kenta, are you all right? Are you hurt?" Kenta whimpered, "I'm okay." "Enjoying your evening meals nowadays, Mr. Shoutaro?" Bowers' suspicions had returned. Kenta coughed a little. "I haven't...haven't been eating much since....Since I saw IT eat..." "So you know what this is about, am I correct, Mr. Shoutaro?" He quirked a brow. "Kenta, did you see it? Is it real?" Kenta nodded at Sam. Sam seemed taken aback. "What does it look like? Did it hurt you?" "Mr. Shoutaro, we have reason to believe you may be a target." "You think I haven't noticed?" he snapped at the cop. "You think I haven't seen it watching me? Following me? I've been running for my life the past few days." Bowers seemed momentarily assuaged. "Well, we're going to take care of this. I would like you and your two friends to come down to the station to answer a few questions. You'll be safe in police custody. " Kenta nodded slowly, giving in to the inevitable. "Let me get dressed." "Will you meet us downstairs?" Kenta nodded. After the door shut, he placed his back to it and slowly slid to the floor. The six Zeron appeared, standing eerily about the living room, with their glowing, yellow eyes all affixed on Kenta. One of them approached, carrying a small wrapped parcel. It unfolded it to reveal a Kevlar vest, with two points where it had been shot. The Zeron kneeled and placed the vest in Kenta's hands, staring firmly into his face. Its cold voice echoed inside Kenta's head as it spoke simply, "Eliminate ALL witnesses. And we will forgive those who are innocent." Kenta cuddled the vest closely. "I will."

Bowers wasn't sure what to think now. Shoutaro showed up downstairs wearing a Kevlar vest. Kenta allowed an inspection, which sure enough revealed two bullet marks where he had been shot. Either Kenta's paranoia coincidentally saved his life, or he was good at covering his tracks. Bowers was able to talk to them on the way, and get the full story start to finish. He crossed his heart the other police car didn't have their radio on, and that the girls didn't hear. But should they need to, Bowers had it on tape. In Kenta's words "I wasn't hit by that aircraft. It came close, and knocked me down. There was fire everywhere, but I could still see it, crawling from the wreckage. I thought it was a dog at first, but as it got closer I could see it was more like a cockroach. It wasn't very big, but it was loud. It screamed at me and ran away. Then I blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was at the hospital for a few cuts and bruises. They said I was hallucinating. Said I was raving about giant insects. Of course they thought I was crazy. Wouldn't you?" "I knew I wasn't. I kept seeing it. It was watching me. Judging me. I don't know why I thought a vest would help... I was just damn lucky for it though. That's why I tried to stop the robbery. I mean, I was protected, right? I chased him to the alley, and there it was. Huge. It didn't notice me at first. So I ran. I ran into public where it couldn't follow, and then I hid. But it found me. It found Andy too. I just kept running. I couldn't stay in one place. And it's still out there." Bowers nodded. "Mr. Shoutaro, I have reason to believe this creature may be expressing a high level of intelligence. I think it's been trying to cover its tracks. It's been going after people who have seen it." "Have you seen it?" Bowers shook his head. "Only a shadow and all of the traces it leaves behind. Nobody really knows what it looks like for sure. So far, you're the only eye-witness we've encountered who's still alive." "It's like a dog. Walks on four legs, when it wants, or on two. Six eyes, no nose. Spikes running down its back, with a long neck, and a long tail. The back is like a pill-bug. It's plated. I don't know how else to describe it." "What about the underside? Is that plated too?" "It didn't look like it. It looked sort of human almost. And it wasn't totally black. More like an inky-blue. And the undersides were a grayish blue." "I'll call our biologists. See if we can get a-" "NO." Kenta replied almost too quickly. "Don't you get it? If you look for it, you die! The less people involved the better!" The Detective checked his mirror, trying to get a read on Kenta. Nothing was coming up for him. "Fair enough." Kenta hugged his arms. "If we go to the station, it's going to come after us." "I agree that it will. And when it does, we'll evacuate the building and initiate a lockdown. We'll have it trapped." "It'll get out. It'll find a way." "Once the building is locked down, it won't. There's no way out." In truth there WAS a way out, but Bower felt that information was need-to know." "How many people?" Bowers shrugged. "Twelve officers, you, me, your neighbors...Sixteen people or so. And we've got a backup generator. So even if it cuts the power, it can't hide." "What if it doesn't want to hide? What if you can't even hurt it?" "Then God help us all, kid. But I'd rather be optimistic about it." When they arrived at the station, Kenta knew from the start it was a death-trap. The building was isolated on all sides, standing solitary next to a shopping strip. Beyond that was the mega-mall, a parking lot away. At night, when the monster came, the mall would be empty, the strip would be vacant, and the station would be a death-trap. There were of course more than 12 officers on duty when Kenta walked in. A few thugs and criminals were being taken in too. He was certain one of the cells was vacant, having visited it last night. He was able at least to reunite with Cally and Sam for the moment, before being ushered away by Bowers. "Don't get too cozy there, Shoutaro. As it stands you're the primary target. So we're going to keep you nice and safe in a cell." Bower pushed Kenta's shoulder none too gently, taking note of its unusual firmness. Indeed, the empty cell was set up like a crime scene, and unoccupied. "We're going to have you under constant surveillance." He pointed to a security camera. "If you see anything outside your cell window, you give us a call. Understand? Just wave your arms or something. Look frantic, okay? We're going to have an armed guard right outside too, so you'll be fine." Kenta realized, Bowers probably suspected him. All of them still hanging around tonight were those involved. Everyone in one place. If the good guys won, then the monster would be caught in the act, and killed. And since Kenta was the monster, if he broke out of his cell, they'd know who to look for. Likewise, if the monster was too strong, then anyone involved would be already in one place. The beast could go about its business, thereby reducing further casualties. Kenta wanted to simply confess. Just blurt out, 'Hey guys, I've killed four people you know about and two that you don't. I wrapped em' in alien snot, and sucked them through my tongue like a straw. Fat Andy was first. I was totally heartbroken when I ate him up. I couldn't bear to see him go. Then the following day, I got those two guidos outside my apartment. They'd never be missed. I didn't mind sucking them dry. It was a lot easier. And you know what? Humans kill cattle to feed, and aliens use humans. Unlike the human race, the Kentas use every part of the buffalo. Hee-haw, the only thing we leave behind is a blob of sticky green boogers. We come in peace, humans of earth, and for your $4.99 all you can eat buffet. Better watch out, better not cry. Better not pout, I'm telling you why. Santa Claws is hungry tonight. Oh and he's got reindeer of his own. Haven't you seen the masked men with the hoodies? They're such gentlemen. Each one giving you massages and hand-jobs and telling you it's okay to feed, because sharks eat fish, and I'm just a big, stupid alien. And trapping me here with you is a big, stupid idea because I know what's going to happen. I bet you know too, don't you Bowers? I'm going to hulk-out and kill everybody! Sure, you'll fire those guns and turn on the lights, but it won't matter. The phones will be out, and the doors will be blocked, thanks to six evil elves in my fanclub. And I'm not going to feel any sympathy afterwards, because you brought this upon yourself.' Maybe the expression on his face gave it away. Bowers was looking at him with concern. Then the lights went out. It was still morning, and sunlight was streaming through the windows, but the lights went completely dead. Of course everyone panicked mildly for a moment, before the backup generator kicked in, and everything was hunky dory again. If only they realized, the backup was gas powered. If only they realized it couldn't stay on forever, especially if something was blocking off the outdoor air intake. Maybe it had crossed their minds, but Kenta never heard about it. If they had sent someone out to get more generator fuel, they never returned. Kenta sat in his cell all day with his ravenous stomach begging for attention. He kept on praying Sam and Cally were out of the building. He'd confess on the spot if it would keep them safe. But at 6:00 PM, right as the sun was going down, Sam stepped into Kenta's cell alongside detective Bowers. She slipped carefully over to Kenta, and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm scared." she said quietly. He rubbed a hand over hers. "Me too. But if it comes, you run. You run, and you pretend you never saw it." "I don't want to die...and I don't want you to die either." Kenta looked at his hands, somewhat ashamed. "Would you...be my girl?" Sam let out a chuckle. "Of course I will. I've been waiting to hear you say that." "Really?" He looked at her curiously. Flicked him gently on the nose. "Of course, dummy." She nuzzled closer. "You know, I've always said you were a sweetheart. And some girls happen to like that. Some girls like living next door to a gentleman." Kenta put an arm around her waist, and gave a squeeze. He leaned his head, and brought his lips to hers. Bowers was at least kind enough to look the other way for a moment. "Yaaaaaaay!" Came an ecstatic voice from the hall outside the cell. Cally was clapping like a seal when she came drifting in at the end of the kiss, to wrap her arms around the both of them. She then kissed the both of them on the cheek. "Finally you two are hooking up!" Sam laughed. "Yeah, so let's all not die, okay?" Kenta gave a non-committal huff. "If something happens, lock yourselves in a closet, and don't come out until it's over." "We're doing one better." Bowers explained. "They're about to be moved to an undisclosed location for the evening. You'll be staying here with-" The lights finally flickered and died just as Bowers finished his sentence. An officer was running into the room. "Sir! We just went into lockdown." "What?!" Bowers glared in the direction of the officer. "I never gave the order. How many officers are still here?" "With you and I, twenty six, sir. Plus eight civilians, excluding present company." "Radio dispatch; tell them we need an eye on the building's exterior. I want all officers mobilized." "We tried, sir. Phones and radios are down. The lines have been completely cut. We're blacked out, sir." "It's here." Bowers looked Kenta's direction as if expecting him to burst out into Godzilla mode on cue. "All right, Officer Hightower, you take Shoutaro and get down to the armory. Keep an eye on him, and meet us as the emergency escape hatch. Miss Corral and Miss Jones, you're with me." "There's an escape hatch?" Kenta ran to the exit of the cell. "Get EVERYONE out of here now! Keep it out in the open! Hide in the mall, or something!" "Officer Hightower, let's not waste any more time. Get down to the armory, and give the kid a weapon. A taser or something. Let's move." Bowers didn't wait any longer. He put his hands on Cally and Sam's backs and urged them out of the holding cell area. Sam called back. "Be careful, Kenta. I'm waiting for you. Don't die." Cally said something, but the three were already too far away. Hightower looked ready to piss his pants. Poor bastard. "Follow me." He called, ushering Kenta away. Kenta followed obediently, seeing flashes of people in uniform and not. He was certain he saw one of the Zeron amongst the nervous civilians. Every window and door was covered in a steel barrier, keeping the place totally secure. As they walked down the hall, the pangs of intense hunger welled up inside Kenta's body. He saw the events of the past week in sequence, and they were all leading up to this moment. The Zeron had worked hard to bring their 'savior' up to this point, and he was suddenly aware of his diminished control over the monster. Soon it would be free, and feral, and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. As soon as they set foot into the armory, Kenta's emotions instantly became null and void. He stopped caring. "Boy. This sure is spooky, huh?" "Yeah..." Kenta wasn't really paying attention. "I heard there's some kind of a monster coming." "You're awfully quick to assume such." "Well you know...I've seen dozens of monster movies. I figured it was only a matter of time before one ended up being real." "And Bowers? What about him? Does he think it's real?" "He was the first one to believe it. We all thought he was nuts. He said he'd seen weird creatures before. Funky little men in white masks and hoods. Martians he said." Kenta laughed. "Martians, huh? They're called Zeron." The two were at the back of the armory. Hightower looked at Kenta with a confused expression. Kenta stood with his arms raised slightly at his side. "Zeron. The men in masks. They've been watching me for 23 years. Since I was born. They've been leading me. Guiding me. Showing me how to live so I could learn a valuable lesson this week." Kenta began changing before the hapless Hightower's eyes. His arms and legs extended. His feet crackled and jointed like an animal. His fingers and toes split away, with inky blue-black talons cutting through the flesh. Skin and clothing fell away and splattered to the floor unveiling the wet and insectile plating below. His face extended forwards from his skull bones elongating. The facade ripped across the cheek revealing the alien grin beneath. Each side of the watermelon shaped head was lined with three black eyes with glowing yellow pupils. The mouth was filled with row after row of metallic shark teeth. At the back of the skull a bladed crest grew to match the jungle of four-foot barbs that formed on each insectile plate of the carapaced back. The spines flowed downwards, meeting at the tail. Standing up tall, the monster was easily eight feet, and spoke in a dark and alien voice. "I learned that it's not what's outside, but what's inside that counts. People always said I was a nice guy. A pity they and I never realized what a facade that was. I learned I was meant for one thing, and one thing only. And that's to become this thing, and bump humankind down a rung on the food chain. I learned that if you can't beat them, eat them. If this is my destiny, then I embrace it. So fire your guns. Try to stop me. Do whatever you want because I'm already dying of starvation. And humankind is only cattle." Kenta roared loudly, and then pounced on the man, biting his head off entirely. Then, like a snake, his jaws widened and consumed the rest of him whole. 

The alien roar set Bowers on high alert. The monster was way smarter than the Detective gave it credit for. The emergency hatch was blocked, or broken. He couldn't tell. Either way, the small ladder up to the roof and out wasn't going to open. "All right we may have a situation here. But stay calm." Sam and Cally were wide-eyed with fear, but nodded anyway. They hugged each other tightly, having heard the noise. Bowers readied his pistol. "I'm going to check the armory. You two keep working on that hatch. If you get it open, get indoors somewhere else, like the mall. Break a window if you have to. I'll meet you there." He slipped down the hallway, hearing a muted human scream and two shots not far off. He swung at the ready to check the armory. He could make out a pile of what was once Kenta Shoutaro. Poor kid. And there was no sign of Hightower, aside from streaks of blood and a single shoe. Bowers returned to his search, and crept towards the lobby. "Officer approaching." He called softly. A few heads watched him come close. A female in uniform gave her report. "It's in the holding cells. It took two people with it and...and we heard..." There was an echo of bones cracking from the cells. The officer cringed. "BOWERS." The alien voice called. Bowers' blood ran ice cold. It had called him by name. "I can smell you Bowers. Let's have a talk, shall we? Come to the cells. Come alone." Bowers snapped his fingers for two officer to hold at the entrance to the cells area. "Hello? So you want to talk now?" He took a single step inside. He didn't want to move further in. A writhing mass of darkness at the back shifted, and crawled towards the terrified detective. "I'm hungry, Bowers. I'm starving. I won't stop eating until I'm full. I hope you are aware, that everyone in this building is going to die now. You've locked everyone inside." "That was the idea. We're not going to let you leave either." "Bowers, you've seen what I can do to cars. What makes you think I can't just tear down your pathetic human barricades? Or perhaps I could just kick down a wall?" Bowers had no immediate response. "If you aren't bluffing, then why did you want to talk to me?" "Because I'm going to give you an opportunity to save lives. Those who you want to live, have them wait in the armory. As many as you would like to survive. The rest who are brave or stupid, are welcome to their guns. And you have five minutes before I leave these cells. This is your only chance, Bowers." The monster turned away. "Go fuck yourself, parasite." Bowers did not negotiate. He lifted his pistol, and opened fire. The monster roared furiously as Bowers dashed back into the hall. "Ready positions. Open fire on it. And don't stop." He'd pissed it off for sure. The moment it rounded the corner, bullet after bullet was unleashed in a hailstorm against the thing. It screeched horribly, tried to back off, and then slipped in a puddle of its own blood. "Keep shooting." Bowers commanded. His gun clicked on empty, and he went to reload. As he did so, a jet of webbing sizzled over the man next to him. The officer was yanked into the line of fire, and collapsed dead in front of the creature just as it slipped back down into the holding cells, dragging its next meal with it. "It's wounded. Reload." The officers all stopped firing for a moment to ready their weapons. Bowers checked around the lobby. There were innocent people still around. It was time to do a headcount. Eight civilians and 26 officers. Two officers taken as it went to the cells, the third it just yanked, and Hightower. That left twenty two officers, and eight civilians. He gestured to a pair of his colleagues. "You two, escort the civilians down to the escape hatch. If it isn't open, head down to the armory and establish a barricade. You four," gesturing to four more officers, "follow the escort, and bring us more ammunition and as many Riot Shields as you can carry. Move NOW." Fourteen people left for the armory, leaving sixteen behind. They kept themselves steady, and prepared for the worst. Crunching noises broke the silence, along with an acidic sizzle. Alien grunts followed, and a clinking of metal. Most likely they were the sounds of bullets hitting the floor. The silence was the worst part. The creature was keen on playing the waiting game. But it wasn't a small monster anymore, and it had nowhere else to hide. Once riot shields were in place to block the thing's acid, it would be all over. The ink splotches of alien blood all over the hall were proof enough that it could be killed. It was only a matter of time. Then there was an intense shrieking of metal. Sounds of tearing, breaking, ripping, and snapping. It was extremely loud, and extremely foreboding. It lasted long enough for the officers to return with shields. By the time Bowers guessed correctly what the noise was however, it was too late. The call of "Officer approaching." was the only signal the monster needed before whipping back into the hall and heaving a ball of shredded metal into the gathering. It had ripped the cell bars off, and scrunched them into a crude spherical shape. And uncannily effective weapon. As the mass of metal flew through the creature's hands, it smashed a quarter of one of the waiting officers into paste, killing him instantly. The four running down the hall, never even got close before the orb mowed them over like bowling pins. The first two were completely plowed under. The third had a shield ready, which was raised enough to divert the path of the projectile, but it broke his arms and legs to do so. As he fell down screaming, the fourth had her skull caved in, and her neck broken, before the blood splattered ball rolled over and to the floor before coming to a halt. The alien wasted no time during the confusion, and instantly set about mauling the remaining group. With the line broken, eight were slaughtered on the spot, leaving Bowers and six others retreating down the hall, firing their guns. Hoping to draw the monster off, Bowers slipped into a side office and hid. He could hear shots being fired before they went flat. Following after the acidic hiss resumed as the creature swallowed whole its prey one by one. Bowers' entire body was shaking as he heard the monster shiver with each devoured morsel. He glimpsed around the corner unseen, and just long enough to watch the creature's frame bulge outwards before his eyes. Each consumed body added to its mass immediately, until its hulking frame shook the walls, and scraped the ceiling as it crept down the hall.

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Cally and Sam were not doing well. Unable to get the hatch open, they had hidden in a janitor's closet right across from the hatch. Though they could not see anything through the fogged glass window, they could hear the sounds of screams and gunfire. The dreadful silence at the end was the worst as the girls hugged tightly to one another. Quadripedal thuds began making their way towards the closet, with throaty alien grunts. A silhouette of the creature drew gasps from the pair as it halted just beyond the thin window. It sniffed the door a few times before turning the other way. A harsh banging occurred betraying the roof hatch breaking. Then the building shook as the beast tightly turned in a hallway it no longer in. As it retreated the other direction, its tail broke the door, and ripped it away. "Cally!... Cally Come on!" Sam tried to pull her roommate away. The hatch was clearly broken away, giving the two a merciful way to escape. Sam managed to pull Cally into the hall, but their eyes were firmly fixed on the creature less than ten feet away. It glanced over its shoulder, observing the two for a moment. Cally screamed loudly, and burst into sobs as the monster rounded the corner and continued on to the armory. Sam dragged her to the hatch, and climbed out. Bowers made a run for it the moment it passed down the side hall to the armory. He fired several slugs at the creature's shell, but it had grown too thick. It ignored the nuisance, and dined on the remaining ten. Bowers could do nothing any longer, except escape. He ran for the hatch, thankfully seeing moonlight spilling down from it. The chubby girl, Cally Jones, rested in the fetal position in the closet. Her hair was starting to streak white, and she had gone into shock. He tried to budge her into motion, but she didn't dare. Bowers had to keep moving, especially once he heard a scream from the roof. Sam was in for a terrible surprise when the cool night air hit her face. Even out here, away from the noise and the smell of blood things were not safe. She heard whispers all around her. Quiet droning voices from all directions. The Zeron began approaching the building, slipping out of shadows, and slowly climbing the building like spiders. They spoke over each other in venomous whispers. Six of them all together overlapping, "No witnesses. Kill them. Kill her. Eliminate. Feed. Devour them all. Consume her. Consume." The hooded freaks rounded the edge of the building, with their fingers twitching. Frightened for her life, Samantha was backing up towards the edge. She had run out of places to go. If she went back inside, the creature would get her. If she jumped off the roof, she'd break an ankle, and they'd get her anyway. The fight wasn't over yet. Fully reloaded, Detective Bowers scrambled up the hatch just in time to open fire on the Zeron closest to Sam. It went down in a heap, with a tar-black fluid seeping from its body. The other Zeron emitted shrill alien screams in horror of their fallen brother. Bowers shot down two more, before pulling Samantha to the fire escape. "We're heading to the mall. Lots of places to hide. Their feet banged heavily on the ladder to the street, and they took off running. A corner of the roof crumbled and caved as the monster heaved itself out. Standing fully upright, it was now taller than the police station. It looked sadly upon the few fallen Zeron, and howled loudly as a dinosaur to the moonlit sky. The remaining masked men dragged their three fallen brethren to what was once Kenta Shoutaro, with a quiet, simple command. "Feed." The monster opened its jaws for the sacrifice, and obliged.

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Bowers was bashing the mall doors open when he heard the roof of the station collapse from the thing escaping. No doubt the mall alarm would draw its attention, as well as night security, but for the present the mall was still lit and empty. Hundreds of shops, four floors, and a maze of hidden offices all around. It would be easy to get lost in, even without a monster in hot pursuit, and it would have a tough enough time sniffing them out. Bowers checked his remaining ammo. Three shots had been fired, leaving only twelve bullets in the current clip, and two more full ones to spare. He was hopelessly ill prepared at this point, and judging by the grates covering all of the shop entrances, he doubted he could break into a sporting goods store fast enough to get more ammo before it found them. Sam had been crying extensively. She'd never been so afraid before. Finally, she choked out, "Dead. Cally. She's dead." "I saw her in a closet before we left. If she stays put, and keeps quiet, she'll be fine. Right now we need to hide." He looked around and pointed to the unmoving escalators. "There. Head to higher ground. With any luck, climbing will be difficult for it now." They started taking steps towards the escalators. "Stop them..." A voice whispered. The pair paused in stride. Glancing around them, shadowy figures darted to and fro, barely out of sight. The voices steadily rose into a chorus. The Zeron were here. And apparently, there were a lot more of them than the six on the roof. "Stop them. Kill. Eliminate them both. KILL. Consume. Tear them. Devour their flesh. Grow. Destroy. Savior." Bowers grabbed Samantha's hand, and began to pull her away. "We need to get moving. Before they see us." "What? Who?" "The creatures. Alien guys in hoods. They haven't found us yet, but they will." As she ran Sam glanced around, taking notice of the strange people in hoods becoming less stealthy as they darted around the mall. She was dragged off to a side office that formed the network of administration and storage across the mall. The whispers ceased completely the moment the door closed behind them, and the two were left panting and frightened from their perilous trek between the police station and the present moment. Eventually, their breathing slowed, and Sam found herself staring at Bowers. Her eyes demanded an explanation to all of this. Bowers noticed the looked, and raised his hand in a non-committal gesture. "Aliens. They're aliens. Zeron if I remember. First met em' before twenty three years ago when I was still a rookie in the force. A young 21 year old punk like me... back then no one believed me. But they do now." "What do they want?" Sam asked. "Not sure. They're not human, but they look close enough. Worshippers of some kind. They follow their God from place to place, keeping it safe until it gets big enough and..." He trailed off. "Listen, just forget it." "No. That thing killed my friends, and I may be next. If we can stop it, I need to know how." "Stopping it's easy. You kill the human host." "Host?" "The thing's a parasite. Back in the day it got hold of Don Astory. Just a punk kid. That was when I first came across these guys. I was after Don for shoplifting, pick-pocketing, what have you. The kind of offenses only a desperate kid would do. He was only 10 or so when I caught him snatching wallets red handed. I was going to take him to juvie' when I got floored by his posse. He started ragging on how he was meant for greatness. How he was going to change the world, and how nobody'd push him around again. Then he ran and I went home with a headache." Bowers continued. "Then the murders started. I didn't think much of it at first. A guy with a broken neck. A woman with a stabbed torso. It was the normal gore. But then we started finding people who'd died of shock, with their legs and arms digested, and alien goo-crap all over. The labs didn't know what to make of it. I didn't either. Then it started going after officers. He became easy enough to find. Astory was going psycho over the change, begging to get shot down. The poor kid. I eventually got him to myself, and he told me all about the Zeron. How they worship their alien God like a cult. How they've come from most likely a parallel dimension. All kinds of freaky sci-fi stuff." "I never found out what happened to Astory. Probably dead, since they're trying again. I thought for a while that Alien was Kenta Shoutaro too but..." Bowers stopped. He had seen Kenta's body in the armory. Just scraps of human flesh and clothes really. Poor bastard was probably shredded. Sam shook her head. She suspected what Bowers was implying, but refused to believe it. After a long silence, she finally asked "Why couldn't they see us?" Bowers was momentarily surprised at the question. "I'm not sure how it works. It's like they can't tell one human from the next right away. I really don't know, but, even if one stares you straight in the eye, they may not ever move for a while. Sure, if you stand there, they'll get the idea. But if you calmly move on they won't recognize you." "Find them. Search for them. Eliminate all witnesses. This way. Follow." The voices started up again. "We need to keep moving. No doubt Mall Security is looking for us. If we can hole-up in their office we can-" There was a loud banging on the door the two had come through. Sam gave a small shriek. "Here. They're here. Find them. Keep looking." "Let's go." Bowers began walking down the hall, and turned right past a water fountain. The hall continued past offices and administration before a stairwell up was labeled as 'Security North'. "They'd look here first. "Keep going. We'll hit the offices on the other side." The hallway eventually became a dead end, forcing the pair to turn around. They ventured back to the stairs and took them up to the fourth floor. The security office there was closed and locked, but there was an exit to the 4th floor of the mall. Carefully, the duo crept through the door, listening intently for whispers. The central mall was eerily silent and undisturbed. Not even a flicker of motion or noise betrayed the presence of the Zeron. With quiet, deliberate steps Sam and Bowers moved across the lofty path, past outlet after darkened outlet. Neither of them made a noise, and kept their breath mostly held for the duration of the silent journey. The sheer quietness became uncomfortably ominous. With as large as the creature was, there was no doubt it would shatter the wide wall of glass that formed the main mall's entrance in its pursuit. But no such noise was ever heard, leaving the two with a tense anticipation of the predator soon arriving. They were deep enough into the mall to not be seen immediately, but exposed as they were on the fourth floor meant it could sniff them out without too much trouble. Both of them eventually came to a moment of unrelenting anxiety, when they scooted around a balcony to cross to the other side, and turned to find a lone Zeron kneeling silently. The creature made a pig-like grunt that startled the two enough to stand still The creature's yellow eyes turned upwards slightly, as if searching for them, but it never looked at them or whispered once. Sam and Bowers never showed their backs as they rounded the sedentary thing, before finally breaking off into a run. It didn't follow. They did make it to the Security South office, but it was woefully empty. There were signs of once human life, such as a half-eaten pastry, and a cup of still warm coffee. The security cameras were all active, and silent. However, on one of the monitors, the bodies of two men in guard uniforms could be made out. Apparently they left the office to find something, most likely Sam and Bowers, and hadn't made it much further than the first floor shoe store when they had been attacked. They could have been dead, or maybe just unconscious. Bowers wagered the former. But for the interim, they were behind a locked door, and had access to every monitor on this half of the mall. Bowers removes his jacket, and looped it over a chair. "We'll be safe here for a while." He set his gun aside, and lined the two spare clips up on the security monitor control board. They'd be ready at a moment's notice. Sam nodded. "What time is it?" He checked his watch with an exhale. "8:17 PM." Samantha moved over to a chair, and tried to get comfortable. "Two hours since I last saw Kenta alive...and thirty four minutes since...since I last saw Cally." Sam hugged herself, the shock of her missing friends still heavy but tolerable. "We don't know that they're dead. Either way, we should get some rest. It may be a long night." "What happens...if we survive?" "Well.." Bowers readjusted for comfort. "It doesn't want to be seen. So when daytime comes, it'll hide. Then we'll assess the damage, and find out who's left alive. Then we'll..." He trailed off. He wasn't certain what they'd do. "We'll be fine. Once it hides, we'll look for who it is. Then...we win. Kill the host, hill the parasite." The two settled. Neither had further questions and both began to drift off into a light sleep.

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At 11:45 the power went off at the mall as well. Neither of them had noticed in their slumber. It was not out all over. Not every circuit had been thrown. But the security cameras all went silent, as well as most of the lights. Then the whispers began again. Samantha was stirred into aloofness with the quiet sound of soft footprints venturing closer. The window looking out into the hall suddenly portrayed a single Zeron limping one deliberate footfall at a time into view. It didn't glance their way or look up. It simply moved to the door and opened it. Sam realized too late that they hadn't thought to lock the door. As it silently swung open, her hands fumbled for the gun Bowers had resting at his side. She pulled it from its holster, still not rousing him, just as the Zeron stepped into the room and stood still. It was whispering too quietly to be heard, but it surely was soon to spot them. The moment its head whiplashed their direction, Sam fired three shots, rattling Bowers from his rest. The creature stumbled backwards into the hallway, and then delivered an ear-piercing siren. Bowers took his gun back, and flew to the doorway, silencing the shrill alarm with a single shot to the head. One by one, the noises flared up across the mall. Sam looked at the fallen Zeron in a panic. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Bowers didn't blame the girl. Obviously they had been found anyway. "We have to move. Now. They would have found us anyway." He took Sam and began dashing off. A short sprint away was the roof access stairs. He pointed. "Let's check the roof. There might be another access somewhere." They darted up the steps, and practically threw open the door. The roof was crawling with Zeron. Fifty at least. "My God." Bowers gaped. "I've never seen this many before..." One by one the featureless white masks turned towards Sam and Bowers as they glanced about for a secondary roof entrance. Despite finding one, the aliens began moving at a zombie-like pace towards the pair, as the whispers began. "Here. Bind them. Don't let them go. No escape. Eliminate. Kill. KILL." "Back inside." Bower retreated back to the door, and scurried back downstairs with same. They had already been cut off. The hallway leaving back to the security room already had four of them shambling ever closer, blocking off escape to the mall. "Shit. We're blocked off." Bowers checked his gun. "What're we going to do?" "Well, we can both go back to the roof, and make a run for it, or I'll shoot down these four, and we pray we can make it to a mall exit." "The roof. Go to the roof." Sam turned and ran right for it. "Wait! Wait for me!" Sam did not wait, however. She knew if they did that, then the creatures would close in too quickly, and they'd be dead. True to her suspicion, the moment the roof door flew open, there were three Zeron less than ten feet away. She made a break away from them, towards the other entrance across the way. Despite the tangle of air conditioning units, communication towers, and vents, she mercifully found an easy way through and hit the door on the other side. It was locked. "Come on...come ON!!!" She rattled the knob to no avail. "Miss Corral!!" Bowers was making his way across the roof as well, grudgingly accepting that Samantha had made a good judgment call. Since she had run, the Zeron had all diverted their attention her way, giving him the time he needed to check his ammo. The eight bullets in the current clip were spent down to the final three on the trek over the roof top. Several of the creatures had wandered too close for comfort, and had to be taken down with painfully loud alien screams. When he arrived at the door, it took two more shots to open the lock leaving one bullet remaining as the door swung inwards to a mercifully empty staircase. Then they both heard the roar from somewhere. Looking over into the parking lot revealed nothing except blackness. But the creature, the big one, was very close. It was a loud and hungry cry from some enormous nightmare hidden beyond the safety of the roof. Bowers and Sam did not stick around to investigate. The dove indoors, and jumped the steps two at a time. Unlike the Zeron who were mindlessly plodding along, the duo knew that the big-bad of them all was intelligent. The first floor was positively thick with whispering hoodies and white masks, but their attention was directed towards the south end of the mall. Sam and Bowers had made a loop around the complex. They would have to keep moving however, since the Zeron were trailing close behind. As the procession continued however, three Zeron alone remained standing at the North end ground level. This may not have been a problem if not for the fact that Bowers realized he'd left his two spare clips in the security office. They only had one shot left. "We're going to have to run for it again." Bowers was checking their location. "Where?" "I don't know. But this mall isn't safe now." There was that dinosaur roar again, followed by a tremor that shook the walls. Samantha looked at Bowers like he was nuts. "With that monster out there? You're crazy!" "Look, if we make it back to the station, we can check for survivors and then get to a car. Then we'll floor it, and never look back until morning. I know the chances are slim, but they're better if we go back there. The only reason we even came here was to hide out anyway. It was never meant to be a permanent shelter. The longer we wait the closer those things are going to get. So let's make a run for the escalators, and beat it." There was a banging at the door behind them, and the whispers started up again. The Zeron had traversed the roof. "GO!" Bowers shouted. And they ran. It seemed like they were going to make it. The Zeron had all but filtered away the north end. But a patch still remained on the second floor, which immediately recognized the escaping prey. They cried out to their brethren who all turned around to march back. The crowds became thicker and thicker as strong hands reached out to grab Bowers and Sam. They had made it to the escalators and dashed down to ground level, when the path was blocked by three remaining Zeron. Bowers had just one shot left. He raised his gun, preparing to fire. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you." The central Zeron said. "You'll want to save that last bullet for yourself." This Zeron then produced the remaining clips, and broke them in half in each hand. The display of strength was enough to hold Bowers in the middle of the escalator with his charge. As the broken clips scattered their wares across the floor, Bowers realized that he'd never be able to refill a clip in time to escape. One shot left. That was all. Bowers lowered his arm, looking defeated, but he kept it cocked. "Lord Kenta is most displeased with you Bowers." The Zeron continued. "You will of course have to die." "Lord Kenta?" Sam looked shocked. "You mean that thing is-" "I knew it..." Bowers shook his head. The tremors started again. This time they were footsteps. And with a loud roar, the glass entrance shattered and fell like rain. Each foot left a cracked imprint on the ground as the monstrous Kenta made his way into the mall at last. He had become huge. Easily 15 feet high without standing on his hind legs. And each powerful stride pulled him into the foyer, as Zeron spilled in and crawled around his feet like ants. Kenta unleashed a triumphant scream and then lowered his head to look at this final prey. The three original Zeron remaining were the only one left standing as the rest bowed in worship. "You lose, detective. Come now. Feed yourself to the savior. End his nightmare, and yours!" Bowers looked defeated. Sam looked fascinated. Unable to help herself, Kenta's former neighbor took steps closer to the beast. Allowing her to pass, the Zeron moved aside as if she was royalty. With careful hands she slowly moved to caress the muzzle of the giant creature. It let out a pained moan as she did so, and lowered its stance. "Ken..." Sam called carefully. "I know you're still in there. Please just let us go. We won't tell anyone." The barbed spines on his back rippled slowly, as if judging her words. It seemed to understand but didn't want to yet move. It let out a sad cry. "Sam! Get away from it!" Bower was going to protect her. So he raised his gun, lining up a perfect shot. "Bowers! NO!" Sam shrieked. She ran back up to her guard as a roar filled the air. "That's Kenta! I won't let you hurt him! I won't let you kill him! I won't let you-" Bang. The room fell silent. Every whisper, every shriek, and every roar was quieted as each looked to find what had occurred. Sam gave a small noise and took two steps down the escalator in surprise. Her hand moved away from her chest, revealing a red splotch of blood. She trembled, and finally collapsed, rolling down the escalator steps. She was breathing hard. The shot had punctured a lung. "I...I didn't mean to she...she pulled the gun! She shot herself! I wasn't trying to-" Bowers' defense was immediately silence by a deafening wail from the alienized Kenta, which trailed off into a very human sounding cry. He was furious beyond reason. He simply glared with hateful eyes at Bowers, but made no move to feed. Kenta turned his head slowly, and gave a nod to the Zeron. They gently covered the defunct detective with their hands and pulled him backwards into the teeming mass of white masks. And before long his voice was just another whisper amongst the crowd, explaining "I didn't do it. She struggled. It wasn't me. I didn't fail. I won.... I won...."

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Samantha's body was found the next morning with the mall and police station a shambles. Amongst stains of blood, wrecked walls and unexplainable destruction, there was but one survivor too shocked to breathe a word. California Jones never remembered exactly what had happened that night. Or maybe she did, but never spoke about it. Suffice to say she was committed to a psychiatric hospital for extreme post-traumatic stress. Though Cally was the one surviving witness to the horrors that surrounded her, she remained silent. The mystery went unsolved. The Zeron removed all traces of evidence. And a young man named Kenta Shoutaro arrived in a new apartment in another city the next day. Bright, happy, and calm. If not a little hungry....