Shortly after their encounter with Emma and Nuggets the remaining band of goblins had sought shelter in a nearby alleyway. Tired and scared for their lives, they hid and grappled with the fact that they had to return back to their base without John.

“Holy fucking shit, she straight up killed him.” One goblin was sitting against the wall, his arm trembling as blood continued to gush out of the open fracture. “She killed John.” Another goblin, the one with long, frazzled black hair and a lighter pitched voice came over and sat down next to him, brandishing a small roll of bandages, “It’s fine, we’re going to be fine, lemme see your wound.”

“What good is that going to do?! I’m fucking bleeding Brawler!”

“It’s better than nothing, stop whining!” Brawler retorted as she fidgeted to open the roll with shaky hands.

“W-Why is a monster like that living here? I thought this was East Kandon not the middle of fucking Central.” The third goblin was sitting on a closed dumpster with his face buried in his hands, choking back the tears, whilst the fourth and final goblin paced back and forth, fuming silently. “This is a shitshow. We can’t go back to his majesty like this.” The fourth goblin stopped pacing and grabbed a red beanie from his pocket, “I’m the leader now!”

“Woah, woah, woah you can’t do that dude!” The third goblin pointed an accusatory finger at the beanie wearer.

“Why did you bring that? That’s not how leaders are chosen!” The goblin who was getting his arm bandaged snarled through a clenched jaw as he endured the pain.

“No! Listen, this is an emergency right? Someone needs to take the lead here, or we are going to fuck up even harder than you already did!” The beanie wearing goblin pointed at the goblin who was getting his arm bandaged. Through his whimpering he managed a weak, “ hey fuck you bro” in retaliation.

“It was your job to scout out our target, no? How can you screw that up so bad?! John is dead because of you!” He adjusted his red beanie as he continued to raise his voice, getting angrier with his friends by the second.

“How was I supposed to know? She goes to a shit clinic and gets medicine like everyone else! -Ow fuck! My fucking ARM!”

“Sorry… the bandage snapped.” Brawler replied meekly.

The angry and newly self-proclaimed leader turned and took a deep breath of air as he put two fingers up to his temple and closed his eyes in an effort to control his anger. “I’m losing… I’m about to lose my goddamn mind.”

The goblin on the dumpster suddenly perked up, his pointy ears shifting in place as a quiet rattling of tin cans caught his attention. His eyes began scanning the area for the noise, first looking over his fellow companions, then down to the dumpster he was sitting on. “Guys…” he lowered his voice and pointed down to the dumpster. The others immediately knew what it meant and took their positions, safe for the wounded goblin who was still leaking blood and sludge out of his open fracture.

The goblins swiftly opened the dumpster and peeked inside with their weapons at the ready. “No way! It’s…” Brawler reached in to try and pull them out, but lacked the upper body strength to follow through. “Guys, a little help?”

“It’s a woman?”

“Are you blind? It’s clearly a guy.”

The person who laid before them had their long black hair tied back in a high ponytail that easily reached their lower back. They were wearing a patternless, but thin silky black robe which contrasted their warm and lightly tan complexion. Despite being found in a dumpster, the person was as clean as they come. Most notable to the goblins however, were the familiar mark of horns over their eyes.

“Well whatever it is, it’s a Nomad!’’ The wounded goblin sneered, clearly wanting to go back to the Undercity sooner rather than later.

“That means we’re getting paid after all!” The leader rubbed his hands together eagerly.

“But hold on, how the fuck did they get here? Look, their feet are bare, but somehow there’s no dirt or bruises or nothin’.” The one who had been sitting on the dumpster said looking perplexed.

“Who cares how? They probably did that nomad ‘pop into existence’ thing right? This is a fresh nomad, just look at the marks on the eyes.” The wounded goblin replied.

“Can we truly be so lucky?” Brawler mumbled as she put her hand up to her forehead and made some kind of horned hand sign.

“Shut it! They’re waking up.” The leader puffed up his chest and stepped in front of the others.

Blinking awake, the black haired Nomad slowly started moving their body one part at a time. Their lips shook terribly as a cold breeze crept over their skin. Their light gray eyes shifted between each of the goblins as they tried to piece together what was going on. “Wh-Where am I? Who…”

The goblins grinned and laughed heartily at their fortune, The leader stepped forward and leaned in further, “hey check this out... Buddy! Hey, can you hear me? What’s your purpose?” The Nomad froze up for a moment as they stared into nothingness, their thin eyebrows furrowing as they muttered a single word, “colors…” the tone of their voice sounded curious, as if they had found the first thing in the world that actually made sense to them. “I want to… See colors.” The three other goblins broke into hysterics over the answer, one of them finally chiming in as their laughing fit died down. “Look you wanna see color check this one out, it’s red!” The goblin grabbed the nomad’s thin wrist and pulled them over to see the open fracture in their companion’s arm. “Fucking gross dude! Don’t show them that!”

“Hey fuck off! Get me some medicine if you have time to laugh!”

“Red.” The Nomad’s eyes hyper fixated on the blood dripping from the arm. “That’s red, right?”

“Sure as shit is! Tell you what buddy, if you come with us we’ll show you all the colors of the rainbow!”

“I like red.”

Black sludge began forming on the back of the Nomad at a rapid pace, moving and churning as if it had a mind of its own. It took a rounded shape, before slowly ascending out of the Nomad’s body at an agonizingly slow speed. The nomad lost their balance and cried out in pain as the sludge continued to rise, a ball the size of a grown adult body morphing itself into an anatomically detailed human skull. The human body-sized skull floated gently over the Nomad as they finally regained their composure.

“What in the hell is that?!”

“WHAT THE FUCK DUDE!” The goblins looked on in shocked horror.

The Nomad was heaving, wiping drool away from their mouth as they got back onto their feet. “I need to see more of it… That red you showed me.” The skull dramatically switched from a black to bright pink color as it opened its creaky jaw and began rattling idly, the black abyss contained within its maw captivating and terrifying the goblins all at once.

Meanwhile in a neon lit district somewhere else in Eastern Kandon a lone woman lingered on the end of a street corner. She was wearing a long dark gray coat that smelled of cigarettes and a distinctly sweet perfume. She had her long black hair tied back in a messy bun with a few strands of straight hair hanging loose. Her boots and gloves matched her coat in a way that was discreet, yet fashionable. Her tall and lean figure was accentuated by the way she was posing, with one hand nonchalantly pointed up against the sky as buoyant sludge playfully danced out of her palm only to disappear into the blackened skyline above. It was clear that she wasn’t just hanging around and anyone who got too close to her would be met by a piercing stare from her bright green eyes. Her pale skin may have made her appear sickly at a glance, but her sharp jawline and broad shoulders coupled with her height made it clear that she was hiding some muscle under her coat despite the lean build.

“Zoey, I finally got it!” A gruff deep voice called out behind her.

‘‘My coffee?’’ Zoey asked, slipping one of her gloves back on once the sludge stopped seeping out of her hand.

‘‘Yeah sure that too, but look.’’ The source of the voice was a short, but burly man. His short dark brown hair was finely combed with a few beginning strands of gray hair mixed in. While he was shorter than the woman, his hair had a surprising amount of volume to it, which seemed to match his cheery disposition perfectly. His coat had a similar color to Zoey’s and was tailor made to fit his stockier build.

‘‘Death Wagon Party? Carlos, what am I looking at?’’ Zoey asked as she took her coffee cup.

‘‘It’s a band poster! It’s for one of those local groups here in the area.’’ His bright smile reached his rich brown eyes.

‘‘I didn’t realize you were into punk rock music.’’ Zoey casually threw her head to the side to motion to Carlos that they should walk while they talk.

‘‘Oh, it’s not for me. It’s for my son. He loves these kinds of things, but they’re hard to come by in Central. That’s why whenever I’m out here I try to buy him souvenirs.’’

‘‘Who did you rob to get your hands on one of those?’’

‘‘I didn’t rob anyone I paid for this art piece, and quite handsomely might I add.’’

‘‘You got scammed out of your money.’’

‘‘Oh don’t say that. This poster is a labor of youthful passion. Besides I decided its value and I decided it was high because I wanted one.’’ Carlos packed the poster away and took his coffee cup out to blow on the top of the open lid.

‘‘You know Carlos, it’s dangerous for you to engage the people here so casually. If any other officer came fresh out of Central and talked about it? They’d be killed within the week. You probably don’t know because you’re not from here, but people don’t like Central.’’

‘‘Is that so?’’

‘‘But they like you. I don’t know how you’ve done it, but they like you.’’

‘‘I bet it’s my smile, the people can’t resist a handsome young man like me fighting for what’s right.’’ He grinned and gave Zoey a friendly poke with his elbow, which caused her to smirk as well.

Zoey and Carlos walked together in silence for a few moments and sipped their coffees. Only once they came to a pedestrian crossing did Zoey break the silence.

‘‘Do you miss your family?’’

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

‘‘Of course I do. We’ve been hunting this butterfly mark for what, two months now?’’ He furrowed his brow at the thought. As if the time spent in the field was longer than he had expected. ‘‘Two months where I haven’t been able to see my family. Don’t you miss them?’’

‘‘My family? I don’t have any family to return to. Even if I did it wouldn’t make a difference.’’ Zoey replied coldly.

Rather than dig into her past, Carlos took a long sip before pointing at her hand.

‘‘Your glove, you had it off earlier, did you?’’

‘‘Yeah, I already deployed them. We got a call while you were mingling with the local punk rockers. A violent murder scene, they think it’s related to a ghoul devouring. It might have something to do with the butterfly mark.’’

‘‘Do you think? But it’s not supposed to show itself for another week or so.’’

‘‘Yeah don’t get your hopes up. I’ll take a look, but I doubt this is our ghoul.’’

Zoey put her left hand up to her eye and immediately coated her fingertips in sludge before digging them into her eye socket. The fingers slid under her skin like a hot knife through butter, but she didn’t draw blood and she barely flinched as she tore her left eye out. The soft emerald green eyeball slid around in her hand like a squishy egg yolk, humming for a brief second before rising and dancing up into the sky like her sludge had done earlier.

‘‘How’s it look Zoey?’’ Carlos looked up at her after taking a long sip.

Zoey’s usual, resting frown soured into a more irritated scowl as she gently shook her head. In mere seconds, her eye grew back into its socket like nothing had happened.

After a couple more minutes of walking the pair arrived at the anticipated crime scene. Flimsy police tape had been put up at the entrance of the alleyway, not to deter onlookers, but just to make sure the area was sectioned off. There was already a team of people ready to go through the scene in detail, but they had been waiting for Zoey and Carlos.

‘‘Okay, what’s the situation here?’’ Carlos strode up casually with a coffee cup in hand as he tried to sneak a peek, but another officer quickly got in his way.

‘‘Hold on now, you haven’t shown us your identification yet.’’ The other officer puffed his chest up in an attempt to assert dominance, but neither Carlos nor Zoey were amused by the display. ‘‘Come on Richie, you know who we are.’’ Zoey chimed in from behind her partner. Richie however, refused to budge. ‘‘It’s company policy.’’

Richie looked fairly ordinary with his buzzcut, thick eyebrows and wide frame. Like a bouncer who had gotten an upgrade and was now made to enforce more law than he should. The biggest standout feature about the man was no doubt his right arm, which was replaced with a long red lobster claw that idly snipped at the air as they talked, like part of some strange subconscious tick.

‘‘Actually he’s right…’’ A quiet voice spoke up as a young man in an identical police coat and a police cap slightly too big for him stepped forward with a clipboard in hand. He was noticeably paler than everyone else at the scene and his cheeks appeared to be sunken as if to indicate that he wasn’t eating well. ‘‘While we- um, pardon, he knows who you are there’s no telling that you couldn’t be altering your appearances with magic… And stuff.’’

‘‘That’s right, Keenan,’’ Richie stepped aside and made room for his partner to step forward, which he did hesitantly. Keenan jumped slightly as Richie gave him a big pat on the back. ‘‘Fresh outta training and he already knows that, not bad eh?’’

‘‘You called us here about a murder scene, not to waste our time.’’ Zoey flashed her badge too quickly for anyone to see and stepped around Richie, who couldn’t resist getting the last word in, ‘‘Not just a murder scene, devouring actually! You guys are kinda supposed to be the experts when it comes to this sort of stuff.’’

‘‘Well how about you two step back and let the experts have a look then?’’ Carlos took a quick sip of his coffee as he stepped forward and joined Zoey in the alleyway.

The place reeked of blood and the heavy stench of coal hung over them like a blanket of dense hot air. The faint sound of blood dripping echoed with a slow rhythm as the sludge on the ground still pulsating and writhing with waning life force, slithered out of the way of Zoey and Carlos, as if their very presence caused it to recoil. Splayed out on the ground were the scattered remains of a person, torn to shreds as if they had fallen into a blender and been spat back out again, only recognizable by a single intact eyeball and disjointed yellow teeth. Just above them was the second body, a young man with an open fracture in one arm had been strangled in his own intestines and hung from the scaffolded stairs of an emergency fire exit. One glance was all Carlos needed to deduce that his blood was the source of the dripping. Zoey walked further down the alley to find the third and final body. A big green sack of lumpy skin covered in sludge and blood had been nailed to the brick wall using sharpened bones. She had to go up close to see the features in the body that decorated the wall like a hung tapestry, but sure enough, there were hands, arms, legs and even the remnants of a face present. Reaching out, Zoey touched the lumpy green skin and gave its limp arm a squeeze. It was squishy and lukewarm, like soft sweaty leather. When she squeezed it, a thick mixture of blood and sludge seeped out of tiny holes in the skin like pus from infected tissue.

‘‘Safe to say that last one is a goblin too?’’ Zoey nodded towards the eyeball and teeth on the ground as she joined back up with her partner.

‘‘Whatever this was, it was violent, but it was not a ghoul.’’ Carlos remarked and gave an approving nod whilst picking up a red beanie next to the macabre tapestry corpse.

‘‘Not a ghoul, are you crazy? Who does something like this?’’ Richie came storming over with Keenan in tow.

Carlos gave Richie a long, deadpan look before holding up an index finger. When he finally got their attention he pointed down at the ground. ‘‘Sludge.’’ he tossed the red beanie at Richie who caught it with one hand.

Keenan nodded eagerly and scribbled something down on his clipboard.

‘‘Humans are messy, murder leaves behind sludge. This could’ve been infighting, an ambush or maybe some kind of stand-off, but it was not a devouring. Ghouls devour all the sludge. All they leave for us to look at is the shell of the person that used to be. Richie, this was not a ghoul.’’ Carlos explained patiently.

‘‘I did say that the probab-’’ Keenan spoke up, his smile growing more and more enthusiastic before being snatched away and replaced with fear as Richie turned and scowled at him.

‘‘I told you it would be a waste of our time Carlos.’’ Zoey sighed and brushed a couple strands of hair out of her eye before lighting up a cigarette.

‘‘You knew? How did you-’’ Richie asked incredulously but was interrupted.

‘‘It doesn’t take a detective to see that you’re lazy as shit Richie. You just don’t want to do the paperwork so you try to pin it on someone else.’’ After blowing out a puff of smoke Zoey and Carlos started walking past Richie and Keenan.

‘‘O-Oh yeah? Well what about you two?’’ Richie retaliated, trying to provoke a response from the others. The black-haired woman stopped in her tracks and locked eyes with Carlos as he looked back at her, silently shaking his head.

‘‘What about us, Richie? What is it?’’ Zoey spoke up.

‘‘Well you were both moved right? You used to work the normal every day shit that we do, murders, lawbreaking and whatever else needs cracked down on, but you were both moved. Moved to be in charge of killing and capturing ghouls. Now I don’t mean to pry or anything, but me and the fellas at the station are curious. How is that coming along? Pray tell, how many ghouls have you killed?’’ Richie put his hand on his hips and savored the silence, his triumphant grin growing bigger by the second.

‘‘Oh, oh no don’t tell me you haven’t even killed one yet? Wow… The boy-wonder Carlos from Central who can do no wrong and his all-seeing eye dog Zoey. What a fall from grace. You know at this point the Ghoul Hunter is just doing your job for you.’’

The sludge above the alleyway which had been watching eagerly all along began convulsing and dancing as Zoey clenched her jaw. The embers in her cigarette were slowly fizzling out, but she didn’t care as her eyes were glaring back into Richie’s. A warm familiar hand landed on her shoulder as Carlos spoke from behind her. ‘‘Zoey, come on. Let’s get back to work.’’

As they walked back to the car Zoey put one hand up to the sky to allow the sludge from far above to dive down and seep back into her body. ‘‘Richie’s a dick. All he ever does is waste our time.’’ She huffed and took out another cigarette. Carlos just shook his head and sighed.

‘‘It was too good to be true. At least we were close by when you got the call. Devil knows the traffic jams this side of town can get brutal.’’

‘‘Even an amateur was able to tell that it wasn't a ghoul devouring. Like that little guy that was with him, you know, the new partner.’’

‘‘You mean Keenan?’’

‘‘Yeah. Looked like he was going to faint at the first sign of trouble. Makes you wonder why he took the job.’’

‘‘For money perhaps,’’ He grinned and gave Zoey’s arm a friendly nudge with his knuckle, ‘‘Not everyone’s as insane as you. They don’t last nearly as long either.’’

She glared back, but couldn’t help but crack a smirk when her eyes met Carlos’.

‘‘I suppose not. So which one are you? Money or insane?’’

As they came up to the parking lot a couple of shouting voices broke off their conversation.

‘‘They’re here! They’re here!’’

‘‘Hurry it up dude!’’

A handful of thugs had been attempting to break the window of their patrol car with improvised weapons, but had only managed to dent the glass.

‘‘What’s this? We weren’t even gone for that long.’’ Carlos proclaimed with his arms out.

‘‘Welcome to East Kandon, Carlos.’’ Zoey replied and took another drag of her cigarette.

‘‘Can you cover my back Zoey? I’ll handle this one.’’

‘‘Sure, I’ll make the necessary calls then.’’

Stepping forward the shorter officer cracked his fingers and sized up the thugs one by one.

‘‘No sign of armor, probably no defensive magic either given the location of the crime. I think one finger will do.’’ He murmured to himself as if he was reading off his grocery list.

‘‘Let’s get this old man, smash his face in!’’

‘‘Oh my, highly aggressive… That’s a shame.’’ Carlos sighed and extended his left arm out, pointing a single index finger at the thug that was charging him. In an instant, sludge appeared all the way up his arm with a speed that made it seem like he had summoned it well in advance of the encounter. In the blink of an eye the sludge turned from black to white and slithered all the way down his arm, hand and finally out to the tip of his index finger.

‘‘Adios.’’

Faster than a speeding bullet the sludge soared right into the chest of the charging thug and stopped him on impact as it slammed him backwards, he only barely managed to keep his footing.

‘‘W-What was that?’’ He patted himself down before smirking triumphantly, ‘‘I’m okay.’’

Before he could take another step forward Carlos’ sludge rapidly began consuming him alive. The sludge bubbled aggressively, expanding outwards from his torso as it ate through his skin, flesh and ligaments, like cotton candy being dropped into a puddle of water. The thug tried to scream, but with the pace at which his body was being consumed it turned into a weak gurgle. In less than five seconds the thug had disintegrated leaving nothing behind, not even bones or blood. Only a puddle of sludge and a single oval-shaped black organ in the middle of it remained on the ground, which Carlos casually walked over to retrieve. The other thugs screamed and quickly dispersed to avoid meeting a similar fate.

‘‘Yeah I’m-... Yeah it was- no not goblins, these were just regular guys… Were? Yeah, Carlos already took care of it.’’ Zoey walked over with her walkie talkie pressed up to her mouth and gave her partner a silent thumbs-up.

Meanwhile elsewhere in the city.

The long-haired Nomad from earlier stumbled their way down a quiet and decrepit street, their arms hanging slack at their side as they swayed with every step.

‘‘I think… I’m going to die.’’

It was dark in all the buildings safe for one, the light was on in a small candy store, blinking in slow shades of violet, beckoning and tempting anyone who might walk past it. The Nomad paused and stared at their own reflection in the window. They were covered in dried blood from head to toe. Aside from their own reflection the store was completely empty.

Suddenly, they began to violently bash their head against the window.

Once.

Twice.

On the third bash the window burst, allowing the Nomad entry. A little trail of blood was running down from a rift in their forehead as they looked towards a nearby shelf. ‘‘Something smells good.’’

They threw themselves headfirst into a box of wrapped candy and began gorging themselves on its contents. The snack looked like little soft and doughy round cakes with a wicked grin and pointy horns. When they bit into it, a rich and sweet flavor invaded their taste buds from the center of the cake, giving them a sensory rush they had never felt before in their life.

‘‘So good… I could die…’’ They let out a blissful sigh with their mouth stuffed way beyond capacity as they turned the box of cakes around and looked at the name.

The box read Taffy.

‘‘Khaffy’’ The Nomad read it out as they struggled to chew through all the cakes they had put in their mouth. After swallowing them all they let out a burp and looked at the letters on the box again, with a stroke of their fingers they ran them over the name.

‘‘I like Taffy… I’m Taffy.’’