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Plopped down next to gloomy-looking Almoner. He pretended to smile in a greeting. It didn’t seem like just the mind-numbing boredom of an eight hour shift which must be coming to its end by now. Lingering yesterday’s melancholy? Worry about the imminent attack? The gossip flying around town? Divine retribution? Secrets? So many problems to choose from. I ignored all of them.

And created my own. “I stole all your strawberry jam and you’ll have to fight me for it,” I announced mischievously.

Almoner was unperturbed, but the grin seemed happier, “No, you didn’t.” This confidence made me think that I had in fact overlooked something.

“The cellar,” I said suspensefully, “is now empty.”

Brawny blondey snorted, “No, it isn’t.” I was about to weave more lies, but he interrupted me with a permission, “You’re welcome to it anyway, boney.”

I pretended to be insulted, he pointed out how loose his clothes were on me. With such light-hearted banter we successfully kept our worries at bay, neither mentioning anything relevant. Sun started weighing heavy on the horizon and a bell sounded. Few seconds later a radio crackled, telling about an odd couple at one of the gates asking to talk to leadership.

I wanted to sit tight and miss out on the excitement, but at that exact moment shift change came and relieved Almoner. Since the kid wasn’t yet cured of his youthful curiosity, we made our way towards one of the gates.

Plenty of armed friendlies gathered here to gawk. It was an overkill for mere two patiently waiting silhouettes.

The fortification was a little above my head, but there were mounds every few steps to… observe and fire back? I couldn’t resist peeking over it either. The strangers wore camouflage. Clean and shaved. Didn’t look like they spent days camping out in the woods, fighting off monsters. They were armed too, but stood relaxed. The bad news were, these people didn’t look like bandits.

There wasn’t much to speak of that way. Some saplings and an unused road. Even I could tell these people circled around. Will the assault start from the other side, then? Perhaps it was good choice to position myself at an opposite wall.

“What do you want?” a guy who wasn’t Priest called back. Envy. He hung around the man often enough for me to think that maybe he did have the authority to do this. Surely everybody else thought so for nobody said a thing. This guy was older, perhaps oldest I have seen in the settlement. He wore leather jacket with patches, black bandana and sunglasses. The very image of Priest’s biker crew, although I was yet to see any motorcycles.

“I am captain Spengla. I am empowered by our government to assess your settlement,” taller of the questionable men shouted. “We are here to help.”

“We don’t need yer help,” the gramps called back loudly.

They argued the point back and forth for bit, military man offering food, possible restoration of running water, sewage and electricity. The old man didn’t give any details about just how fine the little town got by without any of those. And they truly did. Waste went into compost heaps, water came from the wells and lighting from the beeswax and alien innards. Whatever else they needed they successfully traded for.

“It is time we stood united, not scattered each to his own. You are still part of the country,” soldiers implored, their approach changing towards appeals to a better human nature. There was none to be had. Faces around me were all frowning. We all knew what that really meant.

“Nice euphemism for taxes, but we aren’t making any money,” old coot said. Cash, of course, was the least interesting thing in a harsh world of hunger and survival. “Or does the local lord mandates we have to give up half of our potatoes now? Welcome back to feudalism, boys!” Villagers laughed grimly. They too thought granary was point of interest in this inspection. They weren’t graced by thugs, but it was close enough.

“We do not need your help,” he reiterated after commotion died off. “Nor are we able to assist you or the others. We have just enough for ourselves. Leave.”

The tall fighter did not relent, “You misunderstand. There are many ways to cooperate. You could operate as a safe house for travelling convoys or provide intelligence on surrounding areas. We could open a regular trade route. New documents could be issued and passages opened to urban centres.” That suddenly did seem like a good deal. Tad too good and it immediately made me suspicious by default.

“We could go into cities?” somebody asked loudly in a slew of hushed whispers.

“Of course. You are our citizens,” the captain confirmed fervidly.

Odd. On both sides. Getting into a city wasn’t that hard. Perhaps the bumpkins never tried because of the long trek to reach one? And military men thought too highly of their impenetrable defences? Because nobody ever checked identities of those already inside. Branded people were the only ones to get the occasional boot.

“Who’s that guy?” I asked Almoner and he did confirm the intrigued speaker was one of their own. Priest’s fellow, picked up out the wastes before they even got here.

“You think it’s a bad idea?” healer asked and I shrugged. Really didn’t have an opinion.

“I grew up in place ran by military. Their shenanigans would seem normal to me. But…” I concentrated and gave it a big think. “They probably intend to leave a garrison permanently. To ensure safety of their whatever. You’d have to do what person with a gun tells you to. And they wouldn’t let just anyone walk around like that,” I gestured towards the armed crowd. Some wore brands. Yeah, definitely not these fellows. But even now the villagers just listened to scary-looking motherfuckers who would sack them in the teeth for nasty look, so would it really be all that different?

Old man deliberated with his cronies and must have reached a similar conclusion. “However beneficial your offer is, we do not want strangers traipsing around. Nor your assistance necessary.”

“Is that because of the mouth who lives here?”

Chilling quiet extinguished the whispers. Even the idiots were catching up that something was not quite what it seemed here, in case they missed a memo of war band watching them from afar.

“What do you mean?” old man feebly played senility card. His scratchy voice certainly assisted with the illusion, even if the strong frame denied it. The enemy didn’t see it.

“We have a report of a man defeating foreign entity, then flipping van back and driving here.”

“Ah… you mean travelling merchant? We have nothing to do with that.”

“And what about the other mouth? One with horns.” Our number was up. They began revealing their cards.

Gut-wrenching tension was present and I couldn’t hold back, especially since nobody else had any handy excuses on hand, “That’s just our Parkinson. He’s going through a phase.” The crowd gaped at me – some with horror, others just frowning. I shrugged, whispering the explanation to them, “You know, because of the…” I exaggerated tremors on my hands for show. Several frowns turned into pity or disgust and I rolled my eyes. These god damn bumpkins understood nothing.

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“We mean no harm to you or your… allies. But we are coming in and assessing the settlement,” military man stated. “For one, you are restricting passage through public lands. Two, as stated, you still are part of this country and we must ensure the laws are being abided to.”

“Three, take our food!” one of the crowd yelled at the sunset.

“That is entirely unimportant right now. I am tasked to make a census and accurate map of land we realistically hold.”

“Census? For conscription,” another irritated voice called out.

“It’s strictly voluntary service. However, once you hear of the benefits, you will be lining up to do your duty,” captain whatshisname was still being diplomatic but tone of his voice changed to more authoritative. Nice to meet you, I thought.

“Which way did you come from?” I asked, not really caring for the answer – it was all too easy to lie. But part of me wanted to find out anyway. Some frowning people gave me stares again.

After getting the answer, I deliberated geography with Almoner and decided soldier was vague enough to either be truthful or lie and get away with it. Which was answer enough.

“Captain something,” I called back.

“Spengla,” man replied calm and collected. He really liked his name. Soldier boy was either really an official on official business or about to smear someone’s reputation with terrible atrocities. But that’s a lot of work and dedication, so probably the former. Why have someone else ruin your good name, if you can do it yourself?

“Why such shallow graves?” I poked my head out to look at the pair again. I wouldn’t be able to tell if they lied, but there was a chance to catch them off guard and slipping up. “And didn’t even finish burying the bodies. Tsk tsk tsk. Why such a rush?”

“What bodies?” No reaction. My supreme hit and run interrogating techniques were powerless against these professionals.

The two whispered among themselves with completely relaxed postures whilst waiting. I had no further inquiries, villagers frowned at their brand new and shiny madman.

The awkward lull in the talks must have told soldiers we have no more questions. “We will come back again tomorrow and expect to be welcomed inside. It will happen one way or the other. Order will be re-established. We are giving you this night to talk amongst yourselves and get used to the idea. We can iron out the details afterwards. Have a good night.” The two turned and walked back briskly.

Whilst some descended into chatter amongst themselves, one of the crowd snarled at me and strode as though to shove or punch. “What was that about? You think it’s some kind of joke?”

I wasn’t about to find out which option he’d prefer. Ran on first sign of trouble. Could have mouthed off some more, but getting beat up by a gang and a mob didn’t seem quite as fun as being able to painlessly breathe. Someone was still giving chase and I sped up. It wasn’t Almoner because the kid still argued with those that felt too lazy to go after actual reason of their ire. Welp. I guess, I was a little too used to my companions being able to scram.

The people who chased after me weren’t as good at this as me and I was gaining distance, but the town was only so big. I really didn’t want to brave the wilderness at night. Swerved, vaulted a little unkempt hedge and flattened myself to the ground to hide. My legs carried me to seek safety in the presence of someone bigger and badder. My pursuers perhaps lost me, but likely just figured out where I went. Nobody even crossed the street to get into demon’s face. Ha, fools! The creature would just stand by and watch me getting beat up again. Luckily, they didn’t know that and I have sown enough doubts.

I sighed and turned over to lay on my back, staring at the dimming sky.

He was alive. He was alive.

“Household in the woods was not eradicated by these particular humans,” demon’s growl rolled off the cold stone and through my back. I rubbed my face tiredly. Of course. Should have just let them kick me unconscious and spare everybody the misery of my musings. He went on, “but they knew who you were talking about.”

“Knew as in found it like that?” I checked.

“Knew names.”

That didn’t prove anything, neither had it laid the suspicions to rest. Quite the opposite.

I blankly stared at the cloudy red sky again. This information didn’t serve me in any way at all whatsoever. Such unnecessary bit of detail. I didn’t even know why I bothered asking. I knew the soldiers would be coming in and establishing dominance here anyhow and that was already reason enough for the village to fight back, which they were willing to do in first place. There was only ever us or them. And I wasn’t part of this anyhow. My people were out there.

I found my vision obstructed by my own fingers and before I could rake my face again, donned a smile and turned to gawk at the horned statue in the shadow of grandeur house of worship.

“Why are you outside anyway?” I asked to get my mind off things. I really barely cared. Monster could sail himself down the stream if that made him happy. Surely would improve my mood and situation. All the villagers who suddenly took liking to the side entrances would appreciate it too.

“I am not human,” demon grouched out slowly. “I do not need to eat or sit down.”

“But you do need to. Eat,” I countered with some distaste.

“Only if I move a lot,” demon explained solemnly.

Circle of life. There goes that attempt at conversation. Work, stupid brain. Work on something that’s not depressing. And something that didn’t involve yesterday - because I wanted to come closer. To put my palms on the rough leather. The urge for that was unexpected and unreasonable, so I chased it off.

“You’ll turn to stone if you keep this up. I mean, look, people already started thinking you’re a statue and leaving flowers like it’s some memorial,” I said looking straight into the mess at his clawed boots. There were couple of candles, too. Apparently not everybody avoided the demon. I lamented the fact that I wasn’t the one to think of this. The scene was genius.

Priest’s stealthy form quietly popped out of nowhere. This seemed a lot like business and I didn’t care about that. I jumped onto my feet and went to look for more of the meaningless crap for the demon’s altar. Do they have a funeral wreath somewhere in there? No, probably not. I’d need to pick those flowers myself, at least there were a lot of overgrown gardens nearby. Ribbons?

Stepped inside the oppressive structure and breathed the cooler air. Sun wasn’t able to permeate these solid walls, barely casting colourful light through the narrow high-set windows. Some people lounged around. Quite a number of them. In time of danger everyone relocated here, after all. They stared at the unwelcome eyesore who dared to brazenly walk past the monster on their porch and I felt exhausted. Grabbed several candles off the ledge and went back outside, where ancient horror at least didn’t have the eyes to stare with.

Everything was still so I figured the talk has concluded. That was fast, but those two could probably slap one another with onslaught of information and be done.

I strode forward and began brazenly, “So, since I see you love the… Uh… Um. Am I interrupting…?”

I was, wasn’t I? Fuck. Pressed on my eyes. I hated this weird place. I just wanted to go home, curl up in our living room to all the annoying chirping and never leave.

Priest was kneeling, forehead to the cobblestones, as though in a genuine worship. This instilled both fear and disgust in me. Was that my future? Was this what good pets did? Was this why the man had that completely spiritless look on his face? No wonder the others were bringing demon offerings - if even their leader treated this monstrosity so. Perhaps the government should bring the order back. Perhaps I should still burn myself alive and not risk bringing misfortune upon my house.

The demon walked off without a word and Priest stood up, looking at me. “He hates those,” man said nodding towards candles as though that was the main thing to be addressed here.

“What, because of the fire?” I replied coolly, as if it was every day that I came across a cult leader prostrating himself before his god. I did stumble upon plenty of fucked up shit in my life, so it was a well-practised skill.

“They stink,” Priest informed me and I nodded. Makes sense, I suppose. They did seem to have sensitive noses.

“That’s even better!” I said cheerfully, as though we weren’t on completely opposing sides on the scale of pleasing the demon. The cultist-in-chief didn’t seem to mind. “Where’d he go?” I waved the candle in the air, wondering if I was free to go the other way.

“To kill them,” Priest said simply.

One grovelling to take care of forty nuisances? I suppose it was worth it.

“Pretty ballsy. I’ve seen the military take down a lot of things.”

Perhaps my woes were fleeting and this will all be over in ten minutes? Watching city defence at work was an understated pleasure of life. Monsters came in all shapes and sizes and displayed all kinds of unseen tricks, most of which seemed like magic in the eyes of children. Fuck, might have been exactly that because even as adult I had no explanation for most of them. And yet, bastion of humanity still stood.

“That’s why I didn’t go myself,” Priest informed me unhelpfully.

“What does the monster want with this village anyway?” I asked instead of going down the road of thinking creature did this to help these people. His people?

“Nothing. It wouldn’t care if every last one of them died.”

Charming. I scrunched up my nose. “So, what? Because you asked?”

He sighed at the need to explain, “It’s less of a hassle than putting me back together again, and then needing to go finish them off anyway.”

I nodded empathetically. Must suck when runaway body parts keep getting into trouble. I shrugged that thought off and ended up hugging myself in the chill brought on by darkness. If the creature doesn’t care for the people, what does it want with me?

Gunfire started crackling somewhere over the horizon. There was a lot of that incessant, dull noise. It didn’t stop. I thought I heard screams, too, but perhaps that was just a vivid imagination.

“Show off,” Priest whispered, inclining the head to listen better. “All that ammo,” he said regretfully, but there was no heart in it. Who in their right mind would complain about the things their very corporeal deity did?

“That doesn’t sound like it’s going smoothly,” I commented sceptically to the obvious sounds of distress.

Dead eyes turned back at me with their own incredulity, intensifying explosions doing nothing to dissuade the fanatic. “They could have been dead without single one noticing,” Priest spelled it out. I had to admit, he probably knew more than me.

“If it’s so strong, why are the cities still standing?” I cut back, refusing to buy into the unseen things.

“Ash is not very interesting to play with,” unblinking stare was hard to take when he particularly demanded it to be so. And it wasn’t entirely pleasant to endure on a good day, either. Was I starting to rub this steadfast man wrong? About time.

“Hey,” I called out holding that steely glare even though there was no reason to posture. He was a hardened gangster capable of many undesirable things and whilst I wouldn’t be able to fight back, I thrived on general unwellness too. I guess I just wanted him to know. “What does it want with me?”

Priest looked away unexpectedly as though to concentrate on the sounds of waning gunfire. “For you to live.” This discomfort… the asshole knew something and deliberately hid it.

“He said he doesn’t make people he’d just met into mouths. Is that where I’m headed?” I insisted.

“I don’t know. Likely. Unnecessarily.”

I grit my teeth. “What if I burn myself?”

The impassive eyes returned on me. “Probably too late for that now.”

Well, fuck. Chewed on my lip. “You’re obligated to say that. Even more than normal amount,” I insisted.

Priest stared down at me still, his lips thinning some more. “Young man. Your only hope now is to become very dull.” Oh, how I crave that. To just settle down on our beat-up couch and never move anymore.

“Is he a danger to the people I care about?”

“Are they interesting?” Was that supposed to be a joke? Either way, it just wasn’t funny. Man who was dead on the inside was terrible at this, who knew?

I had nothing else to ask and plenty to ponder. Priest nodded a semblance of a goodbye and made himself scarce, probably to check up on the meat grinder caused by his deity because there was no path where he set off to. It was all quiet now. The devil must still be leisurely munching on the dead bodies.