Creep

Chapter Seven: Betrayal

A stitch formed in Angus's side as he ran. He'd thought his stint in the army had made him fit, leaving him in top physical condition, but he'd never had to run this fast before. And there had never been so much at stake.

The streets passed by in a blur, leaving Angus barely enough time to see the crimson carnage that surrounded him on all sides. But he saw enough, and there were a multitude of monsters around taking advantage of the panic. Angus could have done without seeing that. Perhaps there were downsides to drinking the contents of the vial after all.

At last, the wall was in sight. Quickening his pace and dismissing the ache in his legs, Angus pushed onward. Someone knocked into him as they fought and fled away from their attacker. Angus landed on the ground with a heavy thud, the wind forced out of him. He tried to stand only to be pushed back down again. This time he fell back harder, his head ricocheting off something hard and solid. For a moment, Angus saw stars. At least it made a change from seeing monsters.

While he waited for his vision to return to normal, Angus looked up at the night sky. The real stars appeared to be so calm and serene, completely oblivious to the bloodshed happening down below. Around him, screams rang out.

Forcing his body to move, he sat up and looked around. To his surprise, Ivonor was standing a few feet away, but Angus didn't trust his eyes.

His eyes had to be lying.

His eyes told him he'd just seen Ivonor attack a fellow member of the Queen's Guard.

*****

After making sure Angus was out of the way, Pyggbe gripped the blood-coated axe with both hands and continued on his way. The goblin had promised his guild and Wylie - and, by extension, the Queen - that dark work would be done that night. None of Pyggbe's employers had specified what that dark work should entail, but Pyggbe didn't need to be micromanaged. Dark work was where the goblin excelled. Pyggbe knew what would be most efficient here.

*****

The fire in the living room was doing little to keep her warm, the blood in her veins growing colder by the second. Mildred shivered and rubbed the tops of her arms, wondering what was going on outside the perceived safety of their home. As soon as Angus had slammed the door behind him, Stanley had woken and together they'd built the fire and huddled beside it. While Stanley was the strong, stoic, silent type, Mildred couldn't keep still. She paced back and forth so much she was sure she was about to wear a hole through the floorboards.

"He'll be fine," Stanley said after a while. Having known her husband for most of her life, she knew Stanley would have been building up to those words for some time. They were meant to be encouraging words, the kind of thing that should calm her down, but tonight they felt like a lie. How could Stanley know Angus would be fine? He hadn't been outside, he didn't know what terrors waited for them beyond their front door. Anything could be out there, and Mildred fully expected the worst.

"He's a soldier now," Stanley said after some more moments had passed and neither of them had said anything more. By now, Mildred must have walked a mile stepping back and forth in front of the fire. "He knows what to do. They teach them how to fight and survive."

"He's only been on one campaign," Mildred countered, before biting at a fingernail. "He's hardly a seasoned fighter."

"Everyone has to start somewhere. And look at him. Before he went away, he was nowt but a boy. Now look at him, he's a man. A warrior."

"If he's such a warrior, why do you want him to keep working at the shop? Why not get him to join the Guard full time? You're full of it sometimes, Stan." Even as she said the words, she regretted them. Mildred was worried for her son and it was making her snap. She always said things she regretted when she was at her wit's end. She watched as her husband physically seemed to bite his own tongue, saving himself from speaking words he'd regret too.