The Dollmaker of Kalastra

Chapter 2: The Beast Within

The alley was dark, no light from windows or lanterns aiding them. Khendric couldn't see much until Topper lit a torch. The alley looked like any other alley—no obvious signs of struggle.

"You see anything peculiar?" Topper asked.

"No," Khendric answered. "No apparent traces."

"Think this could be a puppetmaster?" Topper asked.

"No," Khendric answered sharply.

"That's weird," Topper said.

"What is?"

"Usually," Topper began, "you're taking me through your thoughts, but not this time. Not after you heard we were on her trail."

"What are you saying?" Khendric asked.

"I can feel you're rushing this," Topper answered. "You want to get done."

"Yes," he yielded. Topper was right. It hadn't been a conscious thought, just something that happened naturally. "You're right. I need to slow down. Thank you. The thought about this being a puppetmaster crossed my mind, but their dolls capture the children, the children aren't used to make the dolls."

"My thoughts as well," Topper agreed.

Khendric found a syringe with the paratis serum from a pouch. "Get the torch out of here," he said. "I don't want to be blinded."

Topper placed it back where he found it. "Maybe it could be a necronus, performing a ritual."

"Perhaps," Khendric said, the needle entering his shoulder. "But it wouldn't make sense to give the boy a new leg, least not an animal one. And Eric would have experienced signs of the transformation."

"True," Topper said.

With the paratis serum, Khendric's senses elevated to inhuman levels. He lifted his finger for Topper to lower his voice to not deafen him. Smells too faint for regular noses filled his nostrils. Events and voices happening too far away rung in his ears, and the contents of the alleyway lay before his greatly enhanced vision. He leaned towards the ground, not seeing much more, but . . . "Blood, here," he whispered. "Probably Eric's, from losing the foot."

"Does it go anywhere?" Topper asked, keeping his voice low.

"Yes." Khendric followed the scent, occasionally finding more crimson droplets. The trail led back into the street, across it, and into another alley. This one was even darker, but Khendric could see barrels and other rubble clearly.

"Mind waiting?" Topper said from behind.

"Oh, sorry," Khendric whispered back. Of course, Topper could not see clearly. "There's a barrel to your left and you have to step over a bucket before—"

Topper kicked the bucket, making noise. The sound was amplified tenfold to Khendric, and he fell to his knees, holding his hands over his ears. He strained not to let out a shriek, knowing that would hurt even more.

"Sorry, sorry," Topper whispered. "Can't I just have a dose too?"

"No, I only have one left and I'm much better than you at investigating."

"Well, if you don't let me practice, I shall remain at this current level forever."

"Fair point," Khendric conceded. "Still no, though."

They continued through the alley, Khendric following the trail and smell of blood. It led to a house on a dilapidated street. The lights were out, and Khendric regretted not bringing the torch. He could still see clearly, but the effects would wear off soon. Putting his ear to the door, he listened.