GasLight

Chapter One: Hospice

"You're lucky we got there when we did, Dolan." Sheriff Fenris Unger.

Not now man, I just realized I was conscious and you're already harping on me even before I open my eyes? All that really came out was a pained groan. My ribs ached something fierce and it was hard to breathe. I opened my eyes and sure enough, there was Sheriff Unger standing over me.

Fenris Unger was a tall beanpole of a man with a bushy mustache that seemed disproportionate on his thin face. He lifted a corner of his mouth in his half-cocked smile while his eyes related concern. Fenris stood at a height equal to mine yet I've always somehow felt shorter than him. Could be that I slouch and Unger always stands with a seriously proper posture. He wasn't wearing his usual duster and the sleeves of his light beige shirt were rolled up above his elbows. A small brass shield crossed with a sword and flail shown proudly pinned to his dark leather vest. I gathered that he'd been sitting there a while.

"Took most of the squad to finally take that thing down."

"His name was Horak." Thin and raspy was the extent I could muster. I couldn't see out of my left eye, my leg gave off a dull throb on the edge of pain and I was wearing a Hospice Corset for some broken ribs.

"Yeah, we got that." He sat down in the visitor's chair near my bunk. That's when I noticed Shadow Wilcox, Unger's faithful Deputy, leaning on the wall between the chair and the bed table. I didn't know if his name was a joke or just Ironic. Shadow was an albino, white hair, pink eyes... Albino. Between his stark hair and skin just as pale, he seemed to materialize from the white of the hospice wall. His arm was in a sling and a white bandage was wrapped around the pointed tip of his right ear.

"That was all he would tell us in booking." Unger rested an ankle on a knee. "Luckily, having a Berserker on the payroll gave us reason enough to enter the premises. "

"So you took 'em down?" I tried to sit taller in the Hospice bunk but found it too much effort.

"The whole operation, thanks to you." Shadow had a way brightening your mood with a proper word of acknowledgment. I liked Shadow. He had a habit of wearing three-piece suits with a majority of them being lighter colors. At that moment Wilcox wore an off-white coat and trousers along with a tan vest and stark white shirt. "Biggest Pit Fighting bust in the region. The military came in and wrangled up most of the fighters. We've got most of the patrons in the holding cells... standing room only. The Bosses and trainers have all been taken into military custody as well..."

"Good." I lay my head back and relaxed into my pillow.

"I'd tell you good job..." Here it was, Unger was going to point out all my faults. "Yet I don't remember orders including starting your own gambling racket within the pit fighting ring that we're trying to bust." He paused and twisted the corner of his handlebar.

"C'mon Sheriff, I did what you wanted. I got in and I made a ruckus." I closed my eyes. Tried to be nonchalant in all my agony.

"Dagit, Son. You're a thick one." He was standing again. "Your antics made us lose track of you and you almost got yourself killed. That thing had lost all ambitions and only knew to beat you to a pulp."

"Well, he did that." I had to admit, "His name was Horak." I reminded. The Sheriff didn't take to that very well but I didn't really expect him to.

"I know that." He retorted, irritably.

"So stop calling him 'It'." I creaked my good eye open and focused through the fog at Sheriff Unger. "Horak is a person."

"He's an Ogre."

"Whose name is Horak. He kicked my ass, yes... but he's just an unfortunate specimen with a terrible affliction."

"That Affliction nearly killed you... that's why Berserkers are banned within the city limits."