The cool night air refreshed BEEADDLEDRUNG, but he still felt insecure. He looked up towards the familiar black sky but found that the Tower of Watch’s light overcast the deep pool of heaven, even its giddy stars, in a white haze. The moon looked jealous.
“That was a commendable performance, for a moment, master,” Pennybard broke the silence. “However, you should be more careful — I think-”
“I know what you think,” BEEADDLEDRUNG interjected. “If they sniff me out, I’ll just take some other skin.” The bogeyman huffed out a visible warm breath. A bitter taste still lingered on his tongue. He began to look all around, motivated by two conflicting urges: the urge to hide — to cast off the suspicion that he felt clinging to him — and the urge to feed. A sudden noise from beside the Lioneer piqued his attention: a rustling like a small animal scavenging. Prey.
There was a sort of alleyway here made up of a thin space between the tavern and long, tall trough. A nostalgic fragrance of decay struggled out of the trough, and for a moment it seemed that this is where the noise had come from, but then BEEADDLEDRUNG looked to the end of the alley.
Two figures stood hunched over a bag, shaking. No, BEEADDLEDRUNG focused. Two figures stood kicking another who was prone.
“Mouth off now, sickling,” teased a kicker. The kicked groaned an apology, but it went ignored.
“Wait, I heard something,” said the other man standing.
Both figures turned sluggishly towards the alley’s opening. Through the claustrophobic gap they saw a lone person creeping slowly near. They recognized him.
“If it i’nt Hellfingers himself,” one said. “We’re just dealin’ with some other trash.” He kicked the body again.
BEEADDLEDRUNG stalked closer.
“Oi, oi. What’s that look, Hellfingers?”
BEEADDLEDRUNG stalked closer. A thought flashed across his eyes as he barely recognized the men — they were seated near that oaf Orval earlier. If anything, that made them better targets. Emptiness returned to his eyes and he loomed.
“Heard you let your party die,” the other man said nervously.
Flop.
Huh? Orval’s lackeys were puzzled by Kinjo’s stillness, but there was a sound like fruit falling.
One of the men howled. His arm hung limp at his side, mangled backward. BEEADDLEDRUNG clicked his drooling tongue. With his old body, the arm would’ve been thrown right off by his strike. He needed more time to master the human’s skin.
To his surprise, the men fled immediately. “We’ll loose those knights on you, Hellfingers!” one shouted vindictively as the other cried. “You’ll have double the price on your head!”
BEEADDLEDRUNG’s anger flared. His dinner had just gotten away while threatening him. He’d have chased them if his body didn’t feel so slow, but they had also gone out into the open, where he could be seen. No, he needed to feed in the shadows.
At least one morsel remained. The bogeyman rose up over the cloaked body with his fangs bared and his arms cocked to crush the thing if it still drew breath and to roll it into an easy ball of meat so that it could fit down his human throat.
“…you saved me,” said the meat, clear but unsure. “Thank you very much.”
The body had shifted somewhat, not growing any higher off the ground, but to a prostrate position. Its face must have been against the filthy ground.
BEEADDLEDRUNG face regained its semblance of humanity and his stance relaxed. The voice was familiar.
“…”
“Get up,” BEEADDLEDRUNG said.
Sorrowful green eyes peered out from the papery brown cloak. They widened temporarily before returning to their half-lidded default. The person stood slowly, their aching joints almost giving out as they leaned against the walls. They put their weight on their back as if they’d been cornered, but it could have just been the pain. Wavy, dirty blonde hair crept over their face, hiding some of the blood and dirt beneath. They drew in a worried breath and slowly said,
“You’re hurt…”
Pennybard looked anxiously at his master, who seemed thoroughly puzzled. Go on and kill the human! he wanted to shout, but it seemed like BEEADDLEDRUNG wouldn’t listen if he did.
“I made a sacrifice to the moon. It is nothing.”
The person gingerly tugged BEEADDLEDRUNG’s wrist out of his pocket. Their hand was dirty, but soft.
“What are you doing?” BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.
“O Lumen fair,” the voice began, its tone crystalizing, “fulfill your promise and I shall my own. Restore this body…” the voice trailed off. It was a long incantation, one BEEADDLEDRUNG didn’t quite have the attention span for. Many emotions flicked through Pennybard’s face: betrayal, hurt, wrath, and fear. He muttered something in his own tongue.
As the bogeyman’s eyes returned to the freckled face below, a belated horror struck him and he attempted a shout, but his breath had left him. The light of the Tower consumed him and he felt the shadows’ erasure. He shriveled like a mollusk in the sun.
Or so he anticipated. Really, he felt something surge through his hand as a white light consumed his vision. It burned slightly, but his missing finger had returned. What’s more, he felt slightly refreshed all over.
The stranger stumbled and their breathing became labored.
BEEADDLEDRUNG caught them and held them up.
“Are you alright?” Kinjo said with much concern. Fear of being discovered seemed to have won over hunger for tonight.
The stranger smiled slightly now. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” It seemed like a boast, but BEEADDLEDRUNG wasn’t going to contest them on it.
“Okay,” the monster said and turned to leave. He made it about five paces.
“W-wait!” the voice stopped him. He turned and glowered unintentionally at the weakling. “Umm,” it continued, and quickly spat out: “would-you-be-my-partner?”
“What’s that?” BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.
“You know, like, go hunting together?” This didn’t seem to please the bogeyman, who’d sworn by hunting alone since before he was sentient. “I overheard what happened to your party…” the stranger said shakily. “It’s not your fault. S-so if people are afraid to party up with you now, they’re foolish! Let’s partner up!”
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The stranger had a truly strange face on, one of forced determination and enthusiasm. Or perhaps it was a genuine expression, an ironic one considering how battered they looked. BEEADDLEDRUNG could tell that this person wouldn’t survive long on their own — might have died already without his intervention — but that they nevertheless were earnestly offering assistance. His skin felt tight. He remembered how Pennybard squirmed and pleaded for life, at any cost, an age ago. This thing should be doing the same, but in contrast it just gave itself up freely, unaware of its position.
“Bahahahahaaha!” BEEADLEDRUNG laughed. The stranger shrunk and looked pitiable.
The bogeyman outstretched his healed hand. “Fine,” he said, “you can be my partner.”
He was pleased; an impressionable young human with a knack for bright spells had just offered themself up for his cause. His skin could only take him so far, as he’d learned — he knew nothing of this new city or its people. Hunger still grew in his belly, almost to a maddening extent, but he could endure it. That guard woman from before had been a hint, but he was too confused then to read it: a willing human pawn could take him wherever he pleased. It was a fine idea.
The stranger beamed. “Wow, really? G-great,” they stuttered, and took BEEADDLEDRUNG’s hand. “My name is Elliother. You can call me Elli!”
I’m BEEADDLEDRUNG, the bogeyman almost admitted proudly. “An interesting name,” he said.
“You’re Kinjo, right?” Elliother asked. “That’s a cool name, too. We’ll make a great team!”
“I am sure,” BEEADDLEDRUNG said. The two left the stinking alley where they’d been standing for too long, and then BEEADDLEDRUNG startled himself with a reflexive movement of the jaw. He yawned.
—
Elliother seemed to know where humans slept in this city, and decided that the party should go there after seeing BEEADDLEDRUNG yawn. Apparently beholden now to the failings of his new skin, BEEADDLEDRUNG agreed.
“Actually, you can sleep just about anywhere if you have enough stars,” Elliother explained as the two walked. “There are many inns, and some hunters even have their own houses.”
“Stars?” BEEADDLEDRUNG asked.
“That’s what they call money here,” his companion answered, and giggled. “You really did lose your memory, huh?”
“Hmm,” BEEADDLEDRUNG nodded.
“Well, that shouldn’t be a problem if we stick together,” Elliother said. They seemed much less on edge ever since the bogeyman had accepted them as a partner. Of course, it was safe to say that they believed he was human. “Where we’re going is nowhere fancy, though… there’s some basic lodging for new blood like me. They should let you in as well.”
“Hmm,” BEEADDLEDRUNG nodded.
Elliother tripped on something and fell onto one knee. They were panting, and it became clear again how badly they’d been beaten.
In a notch between nearby buildings, someone was bathing in a fountain and, after noticing the fall, began laughing. This roused BEEADDLEDRUNG, and he almost let out a growl in the person’s direction. It reminded him of what he felt while he was ridiculed in the Lioneer.
“Go wash yourself in some filthy pit far away, cur!” he yelled. The laughter ceased.
Elliother showed a pained smile as BEEADDLEDRUNG helped them up. “That’s thanks for earlier,” the monster said in a shyer tone than his usual.
“Oh… so you noticed.” The human seemed embarrassed. “I really hate Orval, so it’s no problem.”
“Hmm,” BEEADDLEDRUNG nodded. Need to work on my responses if I’ll be talking so much, he thought.
“Ah,” he said aloud as a question rose to the surface of his thoughts. “I have been wondering, Elliother: which are you? I cannot tell if you are a man or a woman.”
“Huh!?” Elliother burst out. They looked flustered, and had stopped in their tracks. “Not you, too…” they sulked.
BEEADDLEDRUNG gave his companion another serious look over. They were short, and their frame, though hidden by a boxy cloak, appeared small and lean. Their green eyes had long lashes and were sometimes shielded by tufts of fine hair, and a light dusting of freckles covered the area between their little nose and eyes. And, of course, the hand they had reached out earlier felt smooth and fragile like porcelain. Dainty was the best word that came to BEEADDLEDRUNG’s mind to describe this person.
Elliother’s face was beet red as he spoke: “I-I’m a boy. I’m not quite grown up yet, so my manly figure has yet to f-fill out.” He looked down. “It’s a common mistake though, so don’t feel too bad…”
BEEADDLEDRUNG did not feel bad at all. Still a child, he confirmed. He’d eaten many children, but never, ever hunted with one. Best not to mention that.
“My class is priest,” the boy continued, “so even if I’m weak, it should be okay.” He was silent for a moment. “What’s your class, Kinjo?”
Bogeyman is what I am, he told himself. Humans could try to imitate monsters, but the result was so unnatural. At least in most cases. He felt Finale thump lightly against his back, and that name which was not a name returned to his mind. Pennybard was making a small ruckus about something but BEEADDLEDRUNG ignored him.
“My class is hero,” he said resolutely.
“Hero…?” Elliother asked. Doubt was in his voice, but didn’t pry further about it. “One more thing, if you don’t mind…”
“Yes?”
“What’s that creature?” The boy was looking at Pennybard, who averted his gaze in disgust.
“He is my pet,” BEEADDLEDRUNG said. “Pennybard, he is called. Do not talk to him.” A simple instruction that Pennybard himself didn’t seem opposed to.
“O-okay.”
It felt like the two had walked the entire span of the city before reaching the dingy house where they would sleep. It was a long building near one of the city’s great lumber walls. Things were quieter in this district and almost nobody was outside. A guard in black armor stood within an open window between the doors of the lodging.
“We need to sign in,” Elliother said sleepily and approached the guard. After a brief exchange, he walked towards a door and waved to BEEADDLEDRUNG.
BEEADDLEDRUNG noticed two more guards posted near the corners of the buildings. They were hardly visible in the shadows. To the bogeyman, this felt like a trap: the kind he’d set for food that was willing to walk right into his web. Something about his partner’s eyes soothed his suspicion, though. He felt that they were trustworthy eyes.
“Name?” the door guard asked in monotone. They’d already written down the number on BEEADDLEDRUNG’s badge.
“Kinjo.”
“Kinjo…?” the guard questioned. Apparently a longer name was needed.
“Kinjo… Hellfingers,” BEEADDLEDRUNG recalled.
“Hm,” the guard studied a sheet. “That doesn’t match.”
Unease surged up the bogeyman’s spine. He really had been caught by these dark guards and their cursed city. Where were the shadows? He’d gone so long without eating in his adopted town, so why did the hunger matter now? If the shadows wouldn’t come, then he’d use fire, hot fire-
“He’s very drunk,” Elliother said to the guard. He did something strange: closed one eye quickly at BEEADDLEDRUNG, as if to signal something. “Are you sure you need his surname?”
The guard grumbled. “I reckon you’re the last two of the night. Go in quietly.”
“Hmm,” BEEADDLEDRUNG nodded.
He followed his new companion inside to a room full of stacked cots. There were so many cots that it was difficult to walk around, especially with human eyes in the dark. Eventually Elliother found two open cots, climbed into the bottom one, and stretched his sore limbs. BEEADDLEDRUNG climbed to the top with ease thanks to his height and, without removing a single garment, laid flat on his back. Pennybard’s cage was jammed awkwardly against the cot, and the sword Finale pressed uncomfortably against the bogeyman’s back. He folded his arms over his chest as if he were a corpse being laid into a coffin and took one last look around before closing his eyes.
Someone across the room was awake and the whites of their eyes flashed as they quickly looked away from BEEADDLEDRUNG. It is fine, the skin-thief thought as fatigue overcame him.
“Goodnight, Kinjo,” Elliother whispered from below.
“Goodnight, Elliother,” BEEADDLEDRUNG replied.
“…just Elli, if you don’t mind,” the boy said. Then he fell right asleep.
BEEADDLEDRUNG sat with his eyes closed, waiting for sleep to take him. What was sleep like? He’d slept in some other stage of his evolution, but couldn’t remember how it felt.
Is it like death? he wondered.
Perhaps it’s like a taste of it...