As we made our way past the walls of the Narrows to wherever it was that his cunning ambush awaited, I kept myself entertained by asking my guide questions.

“When are they expecting you back?” I inquired.

“Uh, they gave me an hour to figure a way to lure you out,” he said chipperly.

“An entire hour?” I said, aghast. “It sure sounds like they were underestimating you, Pus-Head.”

“They always do. Everybody does,” Pus-Head said bitterly. “They think I’m stupid just because I ain’t as…as…”

“Refined?” I offered. “Sophisticated? Presentable?”

“Yeah!” he said. “One of those. I ain’t as fancy in my ways. They look down on me.”

“That’s an unfair way to treat someone,” I sympathized. “No matter the society, there are always those who place too strong an emphasis on what they consider traditional displays of intelligence. People like you who operate on a more instinctual level, always find themselves being denigrated.”

“What’s that word mean? Instinctual?” asked Pus-Head.

“It means you function without needless thought,” I replied.

“Are you calling me stupid, too?” he asked angrily.

“It means you don’t have to think, Pus-Head,” I said. “Trust me, for those of us who do a lot of it, your existence seems almost unfair. There are monks in search of Nirvana who’ll never be as close to it as you are.”

Pus-Head paused to consider what I’d said. “You really think so?” he asked shyly.

“I do.”

“Well, damn,” he grinned. “You know something, Stragos? You’re all right.”

“Thank you,” I replied with a smile of my own.

“Instinctual,” he said as we continued our walk, trying the word out. “I like it.”

A few minutes later, a seemingly abandoned farmhouse came into view, which I took to be the ambush site. After confirming this with Pus-Head, I told him to stop.

“What for?” he asked. “Everybody’s waiting for us.”

“I know,” I said. “Let them. The longer we take to arrive, the angrier they’ll gradually become. Anger and fear are ideal emotions for a hunt. When your prey is blinded by them, they’re easier to pick off.”

“Oh,” Pus-Head said. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. That’s clever.”

“Not really, it’s just experience, that’s all,” I said humbly. “Hey, do you mind if I ask why they call you Pus-Head? That’s not a very nice name.”

“I used to have a bad complexion,” he replied.

“Ah. Well, that’s logical,” I said. “Do you have a real name?”

“Matthew,” he said after a moment’s reluctance.

“Matthew,” I said. “I like it. It suits you.”

“My mom named me,” he said. “Just before she died. Named me after her dad.”

“That means there’s a history behind your name,” I said. “A legacy. Was your grandfather a good man?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think about it.”

“Do you think he’d be proud of you?” I pressed. “Proud of his grandson, the outlaw?”

“I said I don’t know,” he said in a surlier tone. “I don’t think about shit like that. I gotta live in the moment.”

“I understand, friend,” I nodded. “You need to keep living instinctually.”

“Exactly,” he agreed. “Exactly!”

“What about your father? Is your father proud of you?”

“I don’t care what he thinks,” Matthew said. “Fuck him! That’s what I say. He wasn’t nothing but a loser.”

“You disapprove of him?” I wondered.

“Damn right I do,” Matthew sneered. “You know what he did for a living? What he raised me to do? Rearing swine for a rich man’s family.”

Matthew spat in disgust as he recalled his unpleasant memories.

“He did it his whole life,” he continued. “It’s hard work. Nasty work. And everyone mocked us for it, saying we smelled like pig muck. And what’s worse is, we didn’t even own them swine! All that backbreaking toil we did, and all we got for it was that nasty shack to sleep in and barely enough coin to survive on. We filled everybody’s damn bellies but our own!”

“Is that why you turned to banditry?” I asked.

“Damn right it was,” he said. “Who wouldn’t? What’s the point of the law if it means living without being respected? You can spend your whole life obeying their rules while starving at night, or you can go your own way and finally have a plate with some meat on it! When my clan came to loot the town, I saw my chance for a better life, and I took it. Hell, I’m the one who opened the gate for them!”

“What about the man guarding it?” I wondered.

“I slit his throat with the same knife I used for the livestock,” Matthew said gleefully. “And he made the same stupid sounds as the pigs when he died. No difference. No difference at all. And once the clan came in, I spent the whole night settling old scores.”

“What were they expecting? Loyalty?” I asked. “When you kick a dog enough times, why be surprised when it bites back?”

“Exactly,” said Matthew. “Exactly!”

“You regret it, don’t you?” I sneered at him.

“Every godless day of my life,” he said as he suddenly burst into tears. “Every fucking day.”

He stood there weeping messily for a time, while I sat on an old wooden fence and silently observed him. When he regained some semblance of control, he said, “W-we really should meet up with them now. They’re gonna be mad.”

“You don’t need to worry about them anymore, Matthew,” I said quietly.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I think you already know,” I said. “I think you’ve known since the moment we walked off together.”

“Oh,” he said. Then he asked, “How come?”

“Who can really say?” I shrugged. “Whimsy? Boredom? Either or?”

“Really?” he asked. “I have to die for that?”

“Well, if you really want to know, I have urges that need to be met, and no one will think too harshly of me if I use you and your friends to relieve them.”

“What?”

“You’re helping out a lot of people tonight, Matthew.” I assured him. “Better you and your clan by far than anyone who actually contributes to the world.”

“You can’t take us all!” he said.

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“I can. I will.”

“This isn’t right!” he whined.

“You know that isn’t true,” I smirked.

“I don’t deserve this!”

“That isn’t true either,” I said as I wagged a finger at him.

“I want to yell for help. I want to fight! Why can’t I do that?” he asked in a frustrated voice. “Why can’t I move?”

“Knowing how wouldn’t make you any happier,” I said calmly. “Let’s just enjoy our remaining time together. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

“Is this going to hurt?” he asked fearfully.

I scratched my chin as I considered how to respond.

“Do you want it to?” I finally asked.

“I probably have it coming,” he said sadly. “It scares me, though.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve wanted to die for what I did ever since that night,” he said miserably. “But I’m afraid of what comes next. I’ve done things just as bad, since then. Some were even worse.”

“What were they?” I asked curiously.

He told me.

“That is impressively vile, Matthew,” I said after taking some time to process his story. “You are undoubtedly the scum of the earth. Even the kindest soul imaginable would believe that Hell is the least of what you deserve.”

“I know,” he said, crying once more. “I know. That’s why I’m scared. I wanna die, but I’m scared of what happens after. It makes me crazy thinking about what I got coming my way.”

And with that, he broke down, sobbing childishly in the dark like a boy who’d been caught stealing and couldn’t excuse his actions to his disappointed parents.

He was pitiful for a murderer.

“Matthew,” I said, causing him to turn my way.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“There are people who believe that life operates under the principle of something called karma. Have you ever heard that word before?”

“No,” he said, as he shook his head. “What’s it mean?”

“The simplest way of describing it is, if you do good things, then good things will happen for you. And if you do bad things, then bad things will happen as well,” I said. “And it all applies after we die.”

“That just means I definitely got bad shit coming my way,” Matthew whimpered.

“Let me finish,” I said. “Yes, you do receive punishment for all the evil you did. But it’s not permanent, okay? It’s more like a penalty you have to pay in order to be made clean again. You’ll suffer the flame, but you’ll come out the other side purified and renewed.”

“Really?” Matthew asked hopefully.

“Sure,” I said. “If you believe in that sort of thing. Only one way to find out, right?”

“I guess so,” he said reluctantly as I hopped off the fence and approached him.

“Look at the sky, Matthew,” I said. “It’s dark right now, but behind the clouds, it’s full of stars. That’s nice, isn’t it? No matter how ugly it gets down here, there’s always beauty above us.”

Matthew looked upwards and squinted. “I never thought of it that way before,” he said. “Makes me wish I could have seen them one last time—”

From behind him, my hand moved swiftly.

Then I stared, transfixed by the sight of the warm red liquid coating my fingertips, and delighted in the sensation of feeling it slowly dripping downward to stain the earth.

Next, I turned my gaze to the farmhouse and thought, more.

But first I glanced at Matthew’s body. And as I did, a quote from a famous fantasy story came to me that seemed wickedly appropriate for the occasion.

“Farewell, my friend,” I said to him. “I was a thousand times more evil than thou!”

Snickering to myself, I made my way to the farmhouse. But not before pausing to play a small trick.

__

Reiner looked up wearing an irate expression when the knocking began. It seemed Pus-Head had finally returned with the target in tow. But what had taken so damn long? The jittery fool had promised he would be swift. He’d even been given an entire hour.

We should have just ransacked the town, he thought sourly to himself. The Narrows was a prize that was well worth reaping. It was the richest reclamation in the area, the most populous, the best developed. There was much to be gained from seizing such a jewel.

The problem was that the Narrows were also well-defended. Its organization was unmatched and the sentries guarding its walls were strong and experienced. Even worse was the woman who controlled the place. Jamie Culner, the Witch of Appraisal. It was said that her gaze could steal the secrets of a man’s soul from him and let her know his every exploitable weakness. Only fools dared to cross her. The ruthless efficiency with which she dispatched any who made the attempt had filled countless graves over the years, and she was always willing to have more dug.

Reiner didn’t fear her of course. Reiner feared no woman! But just the same, it was better to avoid taking unnecessary risks. Which was why he had dispatched Pus-Head to lure in that bastard Stragos. But the fool had kept him waiting for so long!

Reiner hated waiting!

The knocking continued.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he snarled at his men. “Pus-Head’s back and he brought a guest! Open the door.”

One of his boys did as he commanded and threw open the door, revealing Pus-Head standing there on the porch, wearing an odd smile on his ugly face.

He was standing alone.

“What the hell?” Reiner cursed as he stepped forth. The farmhouse was a filthy mess of decomposing wood and moldy carpeting that left the air heavy with the scent of damp rot. He and his boys had spent some time clearing out all the broken furniture and tearing down a wall to make room for the twenty of them to lay in wait.

All that effort was now wasted by Pus-Head’s failure to follow through! And why was he smiling so much? Was that little freak on something right now? If he was, he was going to pay.

Reiner did NOT appreciate having his time wasted.

Pus-Head stepped carefully into the room and walked with a stumbling lurch to stand before his leader. Some of the men behind him laughed to see him in such an obviously wasted condition.

“You going to explain yourself to me, pig herder?” Reiner asked in his deep voice, deliberately using an old nickname that he knew would hurt the other man’s feelings and put him on the backfoot.

Pus-Head said nothing and continued to stare blankly.

“Wrong answer, you piece of shit,” Reiner said angrily as he grabbed the other man by the front of his shirt. “Wrong fucking answer—what the hell?”

At first, Reiner thought that the fool’s head was merely lolling backwards as though he had no control of his body. But that wasn’t the case at all. Pus-Head’s head kept rolling further and further back on his neck until it suddenly dropped off and hit the floor with a thud.

All the while, he kept smiling.

His body was still standing, with Reiner’s fist still gripping his shirt.

“What?” Reiner asked numbly. “What the hell is this?”

“I think you should rename him Pus-Headless,” a new voice helpfully suggested. “What do you think?”

Reiner spun to his left and saw a stranger standing behind one of his soldiers. A soldier that was now dead, with a large wound still spurting blood from his neck.

After licking the back of his hand and wiping messily at his mouth, the stranger gave Reiner a friendly wave and said, “Hello.”

And then his eyes began blazing with hellish red light.

“Kill it. KILL IT!” Reiner ordered.

One of his men ran forward, short sword in hand and shoved the blade through the stranger’s neck before twisting it. Then he stared in confusion when nothing happened while the man that he’d stabbed continued to stand there smiling at him.

When he tried to pull his weapon free, the stranger suddenly gripped his wrist and squeezed it, forcing the attacker to relinquish his hold. Then the stranger opened his mouth wide, revealing two rows of daggerlike teeth which he used to tear into his victim’s neck.

The man screamed in helpless pain as the life was drained away from him. Once he’d finished, the stranger sighed in evident enjoyment before throwing the newly created corpse heedlessly through a nearby wall.

Then he turned to face Reiner.

“Are you the one in charge?” he asked as he casually removed the knife from his neck and tossed it behind himself. “If so, I was hoping you’d make some time to answer a few of my questions.”

“Who are you?” Reiner asked the monster.

“Stragos,” he replied.

“What are you?” Reiner asked next.

“So very pleased to meet you,” Stragos replied.

“You can’t take us all, freak. You can’t take us all,” Reiner said as he desperately attempted to rally his men. “Just another portal freak, boys! It’s just another—”

Blood, which had begun pooling on the floor from the wounds of the three victims, suddenly rose into the air, as though caught in an invisible stream. As Reiner watched in disbelief, it began to coalesce into a round shape, like a ball of clay.

As this strange blood orb floated above them, it suddenly began spraying tiny red needles into the remaining ambushers, embedding all of them with tiny projectiles that burned like the stinger of a bee.

“Did you really just call me a freak?” Stragos asked with a frown. “Very impolite. Not the wisest thing to do when the man you’ve insulted can convert blood into a deadly toxin.”

He snapped his finger. Five of Reiner’s men collapsed to the ground, screaming and frothing at their lips as they died in unimaginable pain.

“What are you doing?” Reiner asked in a terrified voice.

“I’m waiting for an apology,” Stragos replied as he snapped his fingers again.

Five more bodies.

“I’m sorry!” Reiner immediately said.

With another finger snap, Reiner’s remaining men died, leaving him alone to face the monster.

“I SAID I WAS SORRY!” Reiner shrieked.

“I was just testing to see if you were being sincere,” Stragos replied. Then he smiled. “Apology accepted.”

He then helped Reiner, who had collapsed to his knees, back onto his feet. “Shall we speak outside?” he asked as he placed a friendly arm over the other man’s shoulder and began guiding him to the door. “I still have some questions I’d like answered. You don’t mind, do you?”

Reiner offered no objections.

__

As I walked back to town, I looked around to be certain I was entirely alone before letting out a pleased belch.

I really did enjoy Jamie’s cooking; she truly was a deft hand at it. But as pleasurable as I found the dishes she prepared, there was just something about the act of consuming the blood of a terrified human being that couldn’t be matched. Fear was a seasoning that couldn’t be bottled. You had to have it fresh. And was there a finer thing in this world than drinking in the mana that existed within a living person’s veins?

Her eggs and sausages were exquisite, though.

Hmm. Maybe I’m just the type who derives satisfaction from procuring my own meals?

There was no need for comparison.

More importantly, the information I’d gained from the late Mr. Reiner was an interesting development. The girl I’d rescued earlier, as it turned out, was more important than I’d realized. Not merely a damsel in distress, but so much more. I’d have to consult with Jamie tomorrow, to see how she wanted to proceed.

I wondered how much of my story she’d believe. Well, I’d have to omit a few unimportant details. Undoubtedly, her distrustful daughter Cassie would raise a few objections if she discovered how I came by the knowledge.

She’d been so annoying as of late. Good thing Reiner and his lads helped me take the edge off. Not even Little Miss Morality could deflate my present good mood. It felt like it would last forever.

I took a moment to gaze at the sky.

All the beauty of creation suspended over the ugliness of our small world. But not in judgement, I think.

Never in judgement.