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Fifth King

My name is Shaytan. Just Shaytan. I get up at five o'clock every morning then I eat my cereal, fried eggs, or toast. After that, I brush my teeth for about three minutes trying really hard to avoid any contact with the damn bogey living in the mirror. I have a roommate, a werewolf. We are best friends and also classmates. After school, I work as a bartender in a nearby pub, where apart from your regular humans, other creatures also get together for a drink. Aside from these little things, I lived a pretty normal life until my everydays got completely fucked up. The peacefulness of the night seems to be over, the Fifth King is preparing for war — perhaps for world domination —, and common sense has evaporated somewhere along the way. And somehow, I got right in the middle of this glorious mess.

ErenaWrites · Fantasía
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98 Chs

Stolen

One thief's mischief sours the mead.

Stolen

"Waiter!"

"No."

"Cashier?"

"No, you're totally wrong."

"Um, pizza boy."

"You're not even close."

Slowly, it became a habit for some to try to figure out what the Weasel's occupation might have been before he decided to drink away his remaining two brain cells. Legends have spread that so far no one has been able to uncover the mystery, moreover, someone supposedly even offered money to the one who can guess it correctly.

More and more impossible ideas came up, and then they became a bit bored of the constant failures.

"You're not just making fun of us, are ya?" a guy suspected.

"Not even crossed my mind," the Weasel grinned.

"If we could guess it right, you'd tell us, right?" a girl asked, equally distrustfully.

Without a doubt, the Weasel's overly amused grin didn't help the situation either.

"Of course," he nodded.

Just after delivering a spritzer, I returned to the counter when the door opened. Hunters? So early? I was a little surprised as they usually arrive at dawn a few hours after work. Never before, they must always be vigilant.

Geri immediately greeted me with a brilliant smile, which I reciprocated as well — here I have to praise my acting skills, for I hated this dumbass from the heart of my bottom. I have known him for a long time, for too long to actually like him.

"What's up?" I asked, "Before work?"

The man, meanwhile, unbuttoned his long, knee-length leather jacket, all so professionally that the knives, daggers, and other little toys attached to it were not even a tiny bit visible. He scratched his stubble and ran his dark, light-absorbing eyes over the glasses lined up behind me. He gestured carelessly to his buddies to take a seat.

"The usual," he said softly, then answered my question, "Today's special."

"Why?" I inquired.

The commander smiled mysteriously. He knew exactly what I was playing at — not like I really wanted to keep it a secret. Sometimes you have to share tiny crumbs of your goals with people to make them believe they are as smart as you are. If you do so, there is not even a tiny bit of suspicion in their hearts that you control their every move.

"Curiosity killed the cat," he declared, but I heard in his voice that he would tell me anyway.

He plays hard to get for a while but eventually, he will tell me everything that I want. Geri has never been easy to deal with, not in the past, and I think not even in his previous life. An alcoholic bastard who loves to play above all else.

"Then it's good that I'm not a cat," I replied with a slight, almost kind smile as I pushed his whiskey in front of him.

"Indeed," he said, raising the glass to his lips but not yet taking a sip, "you're much more dazzling than any cat."

May you drown in that glass of whiskey, you filthy shit goblin! I smiled kindly as I tried to calm my stomach, which made loops in disgust.

"So, will you tell me the deal?" I asked.

Geri drank half of his whiskey in one gulp.

"Well, you know, the ignoble vampires have multiplied in town." I wasn't surprised, so he continued. "They're looking for something."

How surprisingly helpful can this abominable drunkard be, right?

"Their presence is really worrying." I shook my head, looking really troubled about the issue. "What are they looking for?"

Another mysterious smile bloomed over the hunter's sharp face.

"Did you really think I'd tell you this so easily, Shay?"

No, I didn't think so, jerk. He blew a strand of dark hair out of his eyes.

I helped the dildohead a few times to solve his cases. I usually provided tiny crumbs of information that the monsters revealed here, and he paid similar service in return. We have this kind of business relationship.

"What are the ignobles looking for?" repeated my question.

"You are my dearest ally, sweet Shay," he said, asking for another whiskey.

Such a pain in the ass! I hope one of the ignobles will catch him on the way home. If I could find a hunter who would be willing to talk to me around every corner, I would strangle this troublesome bastard on the spot. It is a deadly sin to pronounce my name and the word sweet in the same sentence.

As I filled the glass with alcohol, I glanced at his companions, who were sitting in one of the corners, barely noticeable. They didn't order anything — so Geri came just for business.

"Have you heard of fae amulets? About certain amulets that ensure their longevity?" he asked as an introduction.

I nodded. Of course, since I am related to them, I studied them as soon as I had the opportunity. The fae aren't immortal, but they're close enough. At least their nobles. The descendants of the most influential faery families all have amulets that prolong their lives. So, the thing is quite valuable.

"Why?" I raised one of my eyebrows.

"Dear Shay," he said blandly, and I could barely stop myself from kicking his ass, "Someone stole an amulet like this a few days ago."

I was so surprised that my mouth opened slightly. Geri liked my reaction quite a bit.

"How?"

Come on! Who would be so foolish as to turn the fae against themselves? The queen of the fae? — because this would correspond to a declaration of war.

"You're overcomplicating things, Shay," the hunter shook his index finger, "Who told you he stole from the fae?"

I quickly regained control over my facial expression. I didn't like it at all that the drunkard beast saw through me, even if only for a moment.

"Then from whom? No one but the fae can own it," I grumbled.

"How much have you heard of the 'Fifth King'?" he asked suddenly.

"Not much," I shrugged.

"The 'Fifth' is a pretty difficult case," the hunter explained. "He's a half-blood."

Well, yes, you know already, and I keep saying it again and again but that there are very few half-bloods. Species usually do not mix well with each other due to general disgust and pureblood mania.

"Half-blood?"

"Yes, and one of his parents must have been fae."

Well, now I get it.

"So, he had an amulet that someone stole from him," I stated, "but what has this got to do with the situation here?"

"The thief fled this way," the commander shrugged. "The ignobles are searching for him. But they're not the only ones: everyone's eager about the amulet. Think about it, something like this has never happened before."

"So, you're looking for the little pickpocket as well, aren't you?" I asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

"Now that you know that, can I ask you to perk up your ears?" he smiled, "I'm sure you'll hear often about him."

I nodded obediently. With that, Geri stood up, silently gesturing for the other hunters. He threw some papers on the counter.

"It was an experience, as always," he threw a kiss in my direction, and I felt like I was going to throw up.

He finally stepped out of that damn door, and I let go of my clenched fists. The more I see this bastard, the more I have the desire to skin him alive. I swear, I deserve some kind of reward from heaven for what I've been able to bear so far, especially recently!

(...)

I lit a cigarette and inhaled the bitter smoke deep into my lungs.

"How's your wolf lately, Shay?" the Weasel asked cheerfully.

I slowly looked at him and took another drag. I didn't answer, but it didn't discourage him.

His grin widened even more. "Cold, very cold."

"It's none of your business," I said.

I raised my eyes to the carbon-black sky. Weasel did the same while keeping a decent distance from me, he leaned lightly against the wall.

"More and more vampires are biting the dust," he stated with unfaltered cheerfulness, "You have something to do with it, doncha?"

"It's none of your business, Weasel," I growled.

Alex was already pretty involved. I did not need Weasel to investigate the case.

He grinned cheekily at me. "I'm lucky you can't touch me, huh?"

"You see your situation well enough," I replied. "Stop gossiping!"

"Didn't it loosen the purse strings of some new customers?" his grin widened. "Since the rumor that the 'White Demon' sometimes visits this pub has spread as if there were more and more customers, doncha think so?

Even the way he was speaking made me mad. That's way I rarely spoke with him. I put out my cigarette and then, in the blink of an eye, wrapped my fingers around his neck.

"I see you don't understand me," I said through gritted teeth. "If you don't shut up, I'll be seriously mad."

I didn't really like the fact that the focus suddenly shifted to my pub. Plus, more and more people arrived in the hope of seeing the dreaded monster. Many have come to the conclusion that I must be the informant of the demon and more than once I have gotten into a fight because of this. I've had enough of this shit.

He looked at me with an unchanging grin, as if I hadn't held his life in my hands. He simply raised his hand and grabbed mine.

"Show me, Shaytan," he asked quietly, his eyes gleaming "I want to see the monster who you really are again."

"You have no idea who I am," I hissed.

"You walk among humans and work in this shabby pub," he stated and hit my hand away. "All I know is that this is not you."

"I don't care about what you think," I replied, forcing myself to calm down.

"You don't care about being called the old hag's watchdog either," he said dryly, "I thought you had more pride than this."

"You'd better be grateful, Weasel," I answered, drilling a hole into his very soul with my gaze, "My boss's the only reason you're still alive."

"The monster you were," he said plainly, "wouldn't have cared about a mere human's disapproval if he wanted to kill someone."

"Then you're lucky I've changed," with that being said I left.

I headed home, and although the pub was not far from our house, I was lucky enough to meet an ignoble. We simply walked past each other and then the next moment he appeared behind me. Because of the strong smell of deodorants, he didn't even realize that I wasn't human. And I wasn't in my best mood.

All of this resulted in me already poking my hand through his chest before he could even touch me. I saw the surprise in his eyes. That's why they tell you not to infuriate monsters — that's when they can crack up a bit.

The vampire attacked again as well. His fist hit my forehead and I could hear the bone crack; I could feel the warmth of the blood as it slowly ran down my skin. Although I staggered a bit, I was still conscious and, on my feet, which surprised my attacker even more.

Although he was already beginning to comprehend the fact that I was more than a human, he had not yet realized his own tragic situation. I bared my teeth, which could rightfully be called smaller fangs. The full moon was approaching, and the monster inside me was waking up. And he was mad.

A second row of teeth suddenly popped out of the vampire's jaw, covering the original human teeth. At the same time, his irises flashed blood red and the white of his eyes turned black. As he hissed and pulled up his lips to reveal the sharp vampire fangs in their entirety, he looked more like a demonic beast than a human. In the following moments, all happened so quickly and instinctively that everything blurred into a chaotic mess before my eyes.

Anyway, within minutes, the vampire was just a burning corpse, somewhere on the side of the road. You can only be completely sure of the death of a bloodsucker if you cut off their head — and since I was raised by hunters, I set the corpse on fire for safety's sake.

When I got home, Alex was asleep. It wasn't surprising when we looked at the fact that my shift lasted on weekdays 'til 1 a.m. on average. I took a quick shower and then walked into our room with still-wet hair.

Alex was half-fallen from the bed, puffing and blowing like a grampus, his blanket long on the ground. I sighed heavily, tossed his feet on the bed, and then covered him with the blanket. Stupid idiot.

After that, I took another disapproving look at my roommate and then headed for my own bed. The intruder lay on the tidy bedding. No, no kitty, if you're not willing to go straight to hell, then at least go and get off my bed!

So, without any kindness, I swept the unholy animal down from the most sacred place in the room. I heard the offended meow, but it didn't really move me, I rather slipped under the duvet.

My plans included sleeping through the three hours I still had before school. This bastard can whine all the way it wants, I won't care. So, I closed my eyes, a satisfied smile on my lips at the mere thought that I could finally relax. After all, after a perfect murder, it's best to take a nap, right?