The mob of monsters marches toward an expansive home, with a gated yard that doesn't have much snow on the ground, only a faint layer of it. The roof mirrors the yard, noticeably missing the icicles that every other house has. It's like the property is in its own dimension and climate, cut off from the rest of the town. The warmth coming off of it is visible, and not just to my eyes. The heat haze around the house is like a distorted aura, blurring the edges of the details. Heat means electricity, and electricity means generators. I have even less of an idea of what we're walking into than before we arrived.

Stopping right before the gate, the monsters gently lower us all down. They even take care not to jostle Eleven. Together, the ones who carried us and the rest of the horde that escorted us step back, leaving the three of us alone in front of the closed gate. The metallic finish looks new, but the smell of rusty iron is unmistakable. As are the dark reddish brown screws holding the doors to the rest of the fence. Our captors are still, content to watch us in a silent vigil, but not force us to go inside. This kind of treatment does lend credence to the idea that we aren't just walking to our deaths, that the Neuvohuman behind this is telling the truth, but I trust my instincts that I've honed for years. What am I not seeing? There's a piece of the puzzle I'm missing that's giving me this feeling. Giving the building a more thorough and focus scan with my senses. I can't hear much over the wind except for the distant hum of generators. And the only things I smell are the damp grounds in front of us, Forty-four's obnoxious cologne, and the building scent of grime, sweat, and dampness from all three of us.

Something that has been bothering me since we first encountered these creatures is the lack of presence these things have. They don't smell like anything to my nose, which means they don't have a scent. Everything has a scent. They also move near silently, despite most of them not having bodies designed for stealth or hunting. Their forms are completely unique and don't follow any sort of rhyme or reason. Some have claws, blades, whips, or fangs, and others have nothing at all. The sinking suspicion I've had about these creatures' origins is most likely the unfortunate truth. We've been viewing this person as a Ruler/Manipulator, but that's wrong. They're an Alter/Ruler/Mentalist. The shadow monsters are the townspeople. There's no one left to save; they're already gone.

There aren't any shadow monsters past the gate that I can see; it's almost like the place is off limits for them. That does not mean that there aren't any hidden inside waiting to ambush us. The curtains are closed on all the windows, but the illumination coming from inside is still visible. Even the knowledge that the inside is lit up does nothing to silence my doubts. These two's effectiveness would be reduced to near zero in the dark. As it stands, Eleven being forced to dismiss her Queen dramatically reduces our firepower. Her Queen has the longest cooldown period before being able to be summoned again at twenty-four hours. And I doubt our host is going to allow her the time necessary for her to summon Pawns or anything else. I hate to say it, but Eleven's dead weight for this meeting. Forty-four is still the strongest weapon in our arsenal, but his abilities lack the precision and finesse needed for CQC.

"Nine, how badly are we fucked?" Forty-four suddenly asked.

He's looking at me with a seriousness I haven't seen from him. The disdain and ego are gone from his eyes, leaving only honest curiosity. How depressing is it that it takes our mission blowing up in our faces for him to respect me enough to ask my opinion finally? I'm unsure if it's his sickness making him act like this, but it's a welcome change. Looking around, I realize that attempting any level of privacy or secrecy is a waste of time. Not like I'll be saying anything we don't want heard.

"It depends," I began answering.

"On?" Eleven asked.

"On whether the invitation was genuine. If the kid is just dead, then we'll soon be joining him. If he's alive, then there is a chance that we can get out of here without any casualties," I replied.

Whether Technologica accepts our decision is another matter entirely. She's not the type to accept saving one life over hundreds. This Neuvo is dangerously lethal and represents the potential to wipe out more than just small Canadian towns.

"I'm well aware that giving ourselves up is counterproductive to the mission. But thank you for allowing me the chance to make up for my mistake. If this ends up being a trap, I'll get you two out; I promise that. No one should die for my selfishness," he said.

As if I would let his desperate attempt at playing the hero affect me. I like Eleven; she's one of the few Numbered who I would say I enjoy, but nothing comes before the mission except my own life. At the end of the day, I'm a Cowl and I'll always prioritise my safety. I'll do my best to complete the task because this person could end up being a big enough problem that it might fuck up my plans.

"I'm the team lead, I'll get us through this," I said.

Stepping forward, I push open the gate and enter the boundary that the monsters won't cross. The warmth I could see doesn't do the temperature justice; it's friggin' hot when we enter the yard. The three of us approach the door, and I twist the handle; it's already unlocked. The door swings open, and an overwhelmingly potent stench of garbage assaults me. My eyes water, tearing up from the odor, and I vomit. Brown and yellow chunks blast out of my mouth as my stomach contents empty out onto the front lawn. I hear Eleven react, patting my back, but I can't focus on it. The taste of bile mixed with canned marinara and beef-like products is overwhelming. All of the smells are giving me a pulsing headache. One of the negatives of having enhanced senses is shit like this. Shutting my eyes and gritting my teeth only reduces it a bit. Eleven grabs my hand, forcing something into it. They're rubber nose plugs, and I shove one into each nostril. The faint scent of lavender drifts up my nasal cavity, hitting each smell receptor, and easing the effect of the nasty odors.

I mumble thanks to her and stand up straight, wiping my face with my sleeve. I'm just as bad as Forty-four. The hallway inside has two rooms branching off to the left and right. We slightly fan out ot cover more ground. To our right is the living room, which I take. Forty-four goes to the dining room that connects to the kitchen at the end of the hall, and Eleven stays in the hallway. Trash covers every inch of the floor. The sofa and lounge chairs have full black trash bags with gashes in them, dripping watery beige juices onto the carpet. The slipperiness of the floor makes just taking a single step into the room dangerous. Crushed cans, broken bottles, and rotting compost sludge are waiting beneath piles of dirty clothes, stacks of old newspapers, and small hills of cardboard crap. The aroma of the room assaults my senses, and I back out of the room before I throw up again.

Forty-four comes back, shaking his head. Didn't find anything. He moves in front of Eleven, and we walk down the hallway into the kitchen, which is just as nasty as the living room. Counters are smothered in rotten food and random bits of trash. Why are they choosing to live in squalor? There are lamps on in the kitchen, filling the room with light and making it impossible for any monsters to hide in the shadows. The thought of having to clean my clothes after this is almost bad enough that I debate leaving my suit behind. Almost. Eleven makes a noise from behind me, pointing to a white door next to the pantry. The basement? I nod, and Eleven opens the door for me and Forty-four to go ahead through first. The way down to the basement is a pitch black void, and the uneasy feeling I've had grows stronger.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Wait, look what I found. We can use this to see," Forty-four said, showing off a blue plastic long-necked candle lighter. He starts to turn it on, but I snap at him.

"Don't turn that on. If there's any chance we can get the drop on whoever is down there, then we can't alert them by coming down waving a flame."

Forty-four puts the lighter in his pocket and makes a face like I slapped him. What a fragile man. I have enough control and practice to put my heel down first as I go down the stairs, effectively silencing my footsteps. The moment that one of them takes a single step, I realize how pointless my actions are. They're so loud and clumsy compared to me. The creaking of the old stairs, combined with the heavy thumping stomps they take, means we aren't sneaking up on anyone. The fact that there aren't any lights down here makes me think that either no one is down here, or we're going to be swarmed by shadows. This is what I was wary of; I can see perfectly fine in the dark, but the two of them are lucky there's a railing on the wall.

"I'm going ahead; Take your time," I whispered back.

I leap down the remainder of the staircase, landing on all fours. A light flashes on, and I shield my eyes with my forearm. Blinking away the dark spots, I lower my arm to see a cluttered basement full of garbage and sealed boxes with different dates written in Sharpie. The light is coming from a work lamp pointed at the stairs attached to a generator vibrating against the cement floor. Behind it is a younger woman dressed like a tech CEO, complete with gray pants and a black turtleneck. Bright blonde hair with red tips is pulled back into a bun, and she's smiling like she's the only one in on the joke. That'd be the Neuvohuman.

A quick look around the room doesn't reveal any surprises. No creatures, no gun in her hands, is this really just a regular meeting? To her left is a young man with sandy blonde hair, bound and gagged on his knees. I'd say he was handsome if it weren't for the deep cuts across his face. Dried blood and dirt are all over his face, and his lip looks busted. That has to be the kid, so she didn't kill him. If it weren't for the clothes he's wearing, I might not know it was the guy Technologica forced me to bring. The kid looks like she roughed him up bad, and he doesn't have his helmet on anymore. Eleven and Forty-four arrive right behind me, both of them shielding their eyes.

"Welcome. I appreciate you all coming here unarmed and in peace. It's better this way, and it allows all of us to get what we want. I don't want to have to kill you all, but what's another four after the first four hundred?" She asked.

"We're here as you asked. Release the kid and we'll hear you out," I responded.

I'm not here to let this bitch monologue.

"Rude, Nine. I've been very gracious toward you all invading my town and killing my shadowspawn," she pouted. "If you're going to be nasty, then so will I."

The shadows on the wall stretch and grow as six of the monsters emerge behind her. It's no coincidence that they've done that; it means they're behind the light. Something breaks above us in the kitchen that sounds like metal crumpling and glass shattering. It's a risk, but I take a quick look up the stairs and see that shadow creatures are blocking our escape. Fuck. The woman's smile isn't one of amusement anymore; it's hungry and predatory. Double fuck. Forty-four starts to pivot, and I throw my hand up, causing him to freeze.

"Sorry, we've had a bit of a rough time since arriving. You said you wanted to talk to us, we're all ears. Would you be so kind as to release him first, though? He's not a threat to you or your shadowspawn, as you already know. He's a weak, reckless idiot that we shouldn't have agreed to bring."

"Hmmmm. Okay, as a show of good faith for our future partnership, I'll let him go," she said, walking over to him and wrenching him off the ground by his hair.

The kid grunts in pain, stumbling slightly. She shoves him forward at us, right in front of the work lamp, which cuts out as he blocks it with his body. I grab his arm, pulling him behind me into Eleven's care. She removes the gag from his mouth, and he shakily apologizes to us for getting captured. It wasn't your fault; it was that cocky fuck who let it happen.

"Thank you. Will you allow Eleven and him to leave? She's got medical training," I asked.

"I'll take care of you," Eleven whispered, smoothing the younger man's hair out.

"I'm not an idiot. He can leave; she cannot. I've gotten a good look at her powers, and giving her space and time would only end with me being up to my tits in stone mannequins. She stays, you stay, and so does he," she responded, pointing her painted nail at Forty-four.

"Go, kid. I left you in danger once; I'm not doing it again," Forty-four said to him.

The kid takes off, running up the stairs and out the back door that slams shut behind him. Where were we?

"Thank you. What do you want from us in exchange for letting us go?" I asked.

"What's your name?" Forty-four butted in.

Her smile ceases, and one of the veins in her forehead bulges in irritation. And just like that, all the goodwill he's made with me is gone.

"Maddison. My name is Maddison. Do me a favor and let the adults talk, boy," Maddison spat.

"Watch your mouth, girl," he responded hatefully.

"Forty-four," I warned.

"You two get out of here. I'm keeping my promise. I'll bury her in this basement, and then we can cleanse the town," he said.

"You interrupt, insult me, and threaten me?" Maddison yelled.

The shadowspawn begin to advance toward us, and the ones on the stairs start coming down. Forty-four's bubble pops into existence as he gets ready to fight. My vision is starting to blur, and the headache from the garbage is coming back stronger. Maddison kicks the generator, and it sputters before shutting off. The work lamp goes out, and silence descends on the basement. Three of the shadowspawn leap at me, one stabbing my chest with its bladed arm. I kick one of the other two away, but I can't move without exposing Eleven to danger. She can't shrug off the damage like I can with my regeneration. Forty-four is looking around, trying to find his way in the dark. What the fuck is happening? Why is everything going to shit? With the generator off, I hear clothes rustling, the sound of a rusty door opening, and a faint hissing coming from everywhere. Hissing? Oh god. I rip the nose plugs out and get a fresh whiff of garbage and gas. I see the spark out of the corner of my eye and realize why I've felt something was off. The candle lighter in Forty-four's hand turns on, and the entire basement is bathed in flame as the room explodes.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.