DREADWOLF - Chapter 119
Rain blinked in the light and then slowly rose to his full height, his full height, completely and entirely visible to anyone looking, a hulking nine foot five.
“Hey, uh, wolfy, kinda noticeable right now, just saying…” said Opal, one eyebrow raised.
Rain turned to Lyra and set his lips in a line finding her still unconscious. She’d clearly gone far over her limit and was suffering the backlash, which was a problem because who knew when she would regain consciousness. Opal crouched down and experimentally poked her. The sheep girl let out a snore in reply and then promptly continued snoring. It was surprisingly loud.
Rain gave the sleeping sheep a dismayed look, then his eyes darted around the alley. By some luck it seemed that there had been no one near enough to hear the screams, or at least no one who had heard them and wanted to investigate.
But that didn’t make him any less exposed, it would only take one leveler to stumble upon him then run shouting for help and levelers would soon be magnetically drawn in. First a trickle, then a stream then a flood, as all the levelers in the area who wanted to level came like moths to a flame.
He couldn’t fight the city, which meant he needed to hide, and quickly.
His eyes darted to the tall walls and the nearest door. Most of the doors of the alley seemed small, but this one was larger and away from the others, a double door, in fact he was sure he was looking at some kind of warehouse.
Without hesitation he lunged for it and grabbed the handle. Locked. He tried to pull on it but the metal handle immediately snapped off the door and was crushed flat in his pads. Not good. Frustrated now, he pressed against the door, trying to force it open. The doors were promptly ripped off their hinges and crashed down against the floor inside, sliding across the flagstones in a scatter of dust.
Rain growled in vexation but didn’t pause to grab up Lyra’s limp body and then Opal and then duck inside.
The space was pitch black dark, lacking windows, motes of dust suspended in the beam of light that spilt through the broken down entrance. Yes, this place would do.
He found the warehouse seemingly empty, disused? Only a few huge crates were scattered across the flagstones and amongst the heavy support columns that disappeared into the gloom and rafters above.
He carefully arranged the sheep girl against one of the crates, getting Opal to fetch her spare clothing she kept in the dimensional bag then rolling them up to use as a neck pillow.
Once satisfied she was comfortable he stepped away to investigate the warehouse, checking to see if there were any levelers hiding nearby. He wasn’t going to take for granted its abandonment.
Opal was left crouched by Lyra. The Goblin gave her an impatient look, the sheep girl had her head lolled to the side, mouth parted, openly snoring with a spot of drool on her cheek.
She was… a little adorable to see like that, even Opal had to admit that, and she dabbed the drool away with one of Lyras spare shirts. She quickly glanced around to make sure no one had seen her do such a thing.
It was as she was peering into the dark wondering if she’d seen movement that voices echoed from outside. A lot of voices.
Dismayed. She turned to the door, shadows of figures moving across the cobble just visible through the rectangular entrance.
“Well, where are they?”
“Not here.”
“Amazing observation skills, no really, how did you figure that one out.”
“Not here.” grunted back the same voice
There came an exasperated sigh, “look, they either bagged their mark or they didn’t. We got our head, they’ll have to deal with the consequences of fucking off-
“What if they took her head and went to claim the bounty themselves?” came a third voice.
The first voice paused before replying, “No, far too cowardly, they’re well aware what happens if someone goes sideways on us.”
“You’re wrong, look, this blood here doesn’t tell us all we need to know?” the third voice insisted. “They killed the half and then fled. They figured they got the real deal and are going to claim the Fifty K.”
“Blood?” came the first voice, then a moment of silence, “This… isn’t enough blood from a decapitation, or a blade wound… and it’s in long ragged lines, and these… these are broken fingernails, someone was dragged against there will here.”
More silence followed that.
“The half woollie?”
“You think they’d bother keeping her alive? No, something happened here, I can feel it.”
“Pipe down a sec, I think I hear something.”
The voices outside fell dead silent and Opal’s eyes widened as she realised that Lyra was snoring loudly enough to be heard. She slapped her hands over the sheep girl’s mouth, then nose as the noise didn’t stop. A muffled but determined snore continued behind her hands.
It was all too late. The shadows in the light outside approached the door.
“This door was broken down, broken down by force, the lads must have come through here, or more likely than not are still inside.”
The light was blocked by one of the figures and Opal’s eyes adjusted until she could see them. It was a half-human half-Lapine. Tall scarred ears emerging from lank black hair above a pale face. The tall figure strode into the warehouse and narrowed his eyes, ears twitching irritably. A brown leather bag was tied at his hip, the leather shaped around the head contained inside and outlining a nose, a chin. The outside of the bag was smeared with hastily wiped away gore.
It didn’t take him long to spot them, the entrance just casting enough light into the gloom to spill onto Lyra’s legs and front.
“The mark is here. Thought she was decapitated for a moment, but no, she’s whole. Can’t see the others. That snore suggests she’s alive to me, just unconscious.”
A large muscular Lapine passed by the half-Lapine and squinted in the two girls direction.
“Where’re the others then?”
“Spooked no doubt. Something happened. If I had to guess she has some Class or other they weren’t ready for and thought they were going to get caught out, underestimated her level.” As he spoke levelers spilled in around him, two dozen, mostly Lapine with a number of Humans. “Course we won’t have that problem, especially as she looks half-dead.”
He took a step forward and flicked a hatchet free from his belt, spinning it casually in hand, the light from outside sparkling along the razor sharp edge, then dimming as he moved deeper into the warehouse.
“You aren’t getting her!” said Opal stepping between them, hooked harpy talon already in hand.
The half ignored her and took another step forward.
“Think it was talkin to you boss,” grunted the muscular Lapine
“It’s a Goblin, just toss it aside or step on it, I don’t care.”
“B-boss! Boss! Th-there-” came a squawk from behind and the half scowled before turning.
“What?! What is it now!”
“Th-there was a noise and I t-turned and they’re, gone!”
“Who’s gone? What are you blathering about?”
“Everyone who was standing behind me,” whimpered the Lapine.
“How many?”
“I- I don’t know! Maybe six? Why’d you tell them to leave boss?”
“I didn’t tell anyone to leave. None of you are allowed to leave.”
“You’re all going to die in here,” murmured Opal.
The half Lapine wrinkled his nose and snapped back to the Goblin girl “Why haven’t you kille-” but the words died on his lips as he found the muscular Lapine was gone too.
He blinked in surprise and then peered into the gloom, squinting, trying to see where he had gone. Had he run off into the dark?
Muttering made him turn back to his dozen strong crew. Hadn’t it only been six missing? They were nearing him now, forming a ring, blades heald out in all directions, watching to see what was taking them. All nine of them were hardened gang members, grizzled, veterans of the street. He licked his lip. Something was wrong here.
The door seemed distant now, and the dark very very oppressive. They squeezed close and the half elbowed the Lapine next to him in the side as they crushed in, breathing heavy, eyes wide.
As it was he had a front row seat as something closed around the Lapine’s head and then pulled him up in the darkness above in one swift motion.
A moment passed and then came a grizzly crunch followed by bone crackling and flesh parting. The gang members were looking straight up when the blood waterfalled down on them, sheets of sticky red filled with bits of meat sheeting over the remaining seven, splashing over their upturned faces.
Before the screaming started the half Lapine caught sight of something in the dark, a pair of huge yellow eyes, looking down on him. He could almost hear his Laporine half screaming in terror on a primal level as he looked into those yellow eyes. A rabbit before something terrible that lurked in the night.
The others fled from around him, running to the open door and sunlight, escape.
They might have made it even still, but then pitch black goop started rolling down from the top of the door frame, black ichor that rolled and squirmed with claws and teeth and pincers, liquified nightmare.
The gang members dived for the rapidly diminishing light at the bottom, but they weren’t even close to making it. The darkness oozed down to the bottom fully blocking the entrance and the light in the warehouse space snapped off like a smothered light.
Absolute pitch black darkness, the kind where you could not see your hands in front of your face.
The crowd of levelers seemed to think they could rush the stuff covering the exit, and many of them tackled it in their panic. Their cries descended into animalistic screams as they were scratched and cut by the claw covered wall and their flesh started to do things they couldn’t see, only feel, their bodies parting beneath their fingers and paws.
Raw panic took hold and many of them fled blindly into the warehouse.
One by one the panicked voices were cut off, fearful cries disappearing in silence or sometimes a crunch or a snap.
Then there was silence.
The half Lapine stood alone, frozen, unsure what to do, his panted breaths loud in his rabbit ears, sweat rolling down his skin in rivulets, the bag on his hip heavy, throat constricted.
“You should have stayed away,” came a dark gravelled voice from nearby.
The half Lapine shrieked and leapt backwards, sword slashing at the air, eyes wild. Not that it mattered. His back hit a wall of fur and then a pair of paws wrapped around his head, and then he was being lifted, feet kicking at air, and then there was only pain and then there was nothing.
Stratothrax
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