The two ran with purpose as a multitude of sewer grates popped open. Foreigner watched as a number of humanoid figures with matte black full body suits akin to a hazard suit crawled out of alleyways and gutters, their deep red canisters glowing under the rising nightfall, their hooks clattering for violence. The sewer creatures separated from themselves in a methodical fashion, establishing a perimeter to catch as many individuals caught unaware by the Evening Bell as possible.

“Why are there people coming out of the sewer system?” Foreigner yelled at Foxtail, attempting to keep up with the sudden alacrity she had.

“They’re not people. Not anymore,” Foxtail replied, taking a moment to look down each road in a fork before bolting on one, “They’re Sweepers. They come out with the Evening Bell to clear out the undesirables. Clean up the streets of trash.” Foreigner turned back to see a swarm of chittering Sweepers rip into a portly looking pencil pusher, their hooks digging into the flesh and muscle but few specks of blood flew out as if the crimson liquid were being siphoned out of the air. Foreigner was afforded a few short breaths before watching these Sweepers chase after their next victim, nothing but tattered clothes to denote a carcass behind them. Foreigner heaved, his lungs burning with the sting from the cold air but he was only a few blocks away from becoming nothing but mist.

“What is with this place and cleaning the streets!” Foreigner cried out, a level of incredulity passing over him that he should again run for his life against monstrosities which sought to clear the area. Foxtail didn’t respond, her body moving quickly and efficiently from one route to the other. They were gaining distance from the monsters, but that was the result of the Sweepers being uninterested with them in particular. Already they were gorging themselves with the husks of countless other pedestrians. Two more would be a drop in the bucket.

“Stop,” Foxtail blurted out before taking deep breaths, hands on her knees with her body doubled over, “L-lets take a second… to breath…” She tapered off. Foreigner followed suit, the air rapidly returning to his lungs that a mere moment of sitting still replenished what stamina he’d lost. His muscles retained the dull ache of his previous exertions, his legs burning hot and pulsating with intensity, but otherwise he was good to go.

“Do you mind telling me why these Sweepers come out with the Evening Bell?” Foreigner asked, waiting for Foxtail to get the wind back in her lungs.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Yeah…yeah. These Sweepers live all across the Districts. They live underneath the cities within the sewer system and they only come out at night,” Foxtail pulled on Foreigner’s sleeve and began walking, the chittering of Sweepers in the distance, “But this nest has a particular appreciation for their methods. They’re obsessed with cleanliness and order and see that the Sweepers and the Ensemble work very well in removing the impurities of the District or those that have become spent with the monotony of living here.”

“Is it an obsession with cleanliness for appearances sake or…” Foreigner allowed his question to hang.

“I don’t know. Our walls are adjacent to those cannibal fucks in District 23 and they don’t want to be associated with them nor those chefs? Peepers and I have talked a bit about our theories for this place but that won’t change the reality of our situation. Sadly it’s not much better for the feathers that live in the Nest proper either.” Her eyes were glazed over in that instance before coming back to reality. “We’re not out of the woods yet, though. We need to get to the safehouse and regroup with Peepers. Let him know what we found out and hunker down for the night.”

“Hunker down? Do these Sweepers not break into homes?” Foreigner asked, now noticing that the waning crowd had dispersed into trickles of citizens, weapons brandished, in a cavalcade of carnage and mayhem. Citizens fighting back against the Sweepers and against one another in a flurry of violence that surprisingly did not disturb him in the least. He was quickly acclimating to the meager living conditions in the city and saw that violence was counted upon in these places.

“With Peepers, we won’t need to worry about…” Foxtail trailed off, her speed down to a crawl as she stared at a billowing column of smoke. “Oh no.” She whispered, before running at full speed towards the smoke.

“Wait! Hold up!” Foreigner yelled, trying to keep up with Foxtail’s frantic pace. None of the citizens took notice of their reckless abandon, luckily, and the Sweepers were preoccupied with the less fortunate citizenry, hooks embedded deep within their bodies gasping for air and arms reaching out for assistance that was not there. In a moment, Foxtail was gone from his sight, leaving him to find his way back once again. Through familiar alleyways of rubbish, he found himself confronted by the familiar expansive plaza, the crooked tree the only source of greenery, and their refuge from the monsters of the night ablaze. Foxtail, on her knees, watched absently as the flames licked at her home, mania welling up in her body.

“Peepers!” She yelled out before running into the inferno.