X. | 'And ye shall know fear...'

Colt was glad the kid wasn't heavier. He lugged the body over his shoulder and approached the entrance to the Rofal mansion. He held the metal helmet in his free hand. The kid had been adamant about not leaving it behind.

The guards searched him. He had hoped that carrying a dead body would allow him to forgo such formalities, but they still made him stand there and wait while they confiscated his weapons. They even searched the kid's body.

Rofal chose to receive him in the atrium, and Colt dumped the body on the floor.

Swank backed away. "It's him! You brought him here?!"

"Him?" Rofal eyed the body.

"This kid was the thorn in your side," said Colt.

"Ah, is that so?"

Swank nodded. He did not venture out from behind the staircase. "You're sure he's dead, right?"

"Of course," said Colt. He turned the kid's head to the side, revealing a bloody gash below the base of the skull. "I would've stabbed him in the face, but I wanted to make sure you could recognize him. There is a reward for this, right? Oh, generous boss of mine?"

Rofal laughed. "Spectacular! Of course I'll reward you. Have a whole day--no, two days. Incredible work. How did you even find him?"

"He came to me," said Colt. "Said he wanted my help. Thought I'd betray you and feed him information."

Rofal's smile broadened. "Let me guess. You said you would, and then stuck him as soon as his back was turned."

"Pretty much."

"I love it," said Rofal. "That's what I admire about you, Colt. That ruthlessness."

Colt merely returned a smile of his own.

"How did you kill him?" Swank asked.

Colt furrowed his brow. "I stabbed him in the back of the head. Stupid question."

"Yeah, but..."

Colt looked to Rofal. "So how long are you going to make me wait?"

"I'll arrange for you to meet them tomorrow."

"Tonight," said Colt. "I want to see them tonight."

That gave Rofal pause. His smile lessened. "Impatient, aren't you?" He eyed Colt again, then the body. "Fine. I suppose you've earned it. I will have them brought here and give you the first three hours tonight."

Rofal had the body moved to the medical ward, accompanied with a handful of guards. Colt handed the weird helmet off to one of them, who seemed to find it amusing.

They made their way into Rofal's office. Rofal poured Colt a glass of whiskey. He did not offer one to Swank.

"There's something else I'd like to know," said Colt.

"Yes?" said Rofal.

"The money that the kid stole, what was it for?"

"Why? Did you recover it?"

"No." The kid did have a gripload of money in his bag, Colt had discovered, but Rofal didn't need to know that. The money was stuffed under the backseat of his car. "But you said something about it being for a seat at a table. What table?"

Rofal paused again. "Why do you want to know?"

"Let's say I've been considering my circumstances," said Colt. "And being more cooperative with you is starting to seem more advantageous."

"I see." Rofal leaned back in his chair. "Well, I would be lying if I said I did not want to tell you. However, if honesty is the game now, then I have to say, I am a bit taken aback by your sudden change of heart. And I have never been a very trusting man."

"I've noticed."

"I will tell you this," said Rofal. "That money was my means of acquiring an introduction with certain... like-minded individuals."

"I see," said Colt. "Is that all ruined now?"

"For the time being, yes. A frustrating set back. But I'm sure another opportunity will present itself in time."

Colt swilled his whiskey around the glass.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"Agh... where am I...?"

"Relax. I've got you."

"Ah... this again, huh?"

"I have to hold onto your soul while we wait for Colt's children to arrive."

"Okay... but, uh... this feels... a little different from the last time..."

"Well, without sounding too corny, our souls have had time to get acclimated to one another."

"What does that mean...?"

"We've bonded."

"Aww... come to think of it... this does kinda feel like a warm hug."

"Hmm, I suppose it does."

"It's really nice..."

"Uh. Okay."

"Hold me more tightly, Garovel."

"Getting a bit weird now."

"Haha. So, uh. What's going on with Colt? I can't see anything."

"He's speaking with Rofal now. He's not getting much information out of him."

"But Rofal doesn't suspect anything?"

"Not yet. It's been a bit boring, actually. They're just waiting for the kids to arrive. Colt's asking about his plans, but Rofal is being predictably cryptic."

"So... what do you think now? You said before that you needed more time to observe, but... do you, um... do you think I should kill Rofal?"

"No, I don't think you should."

"Really? Why?"

"Because we still don't know what will happen to Rofal's business in the event of his death. Contrary to popular belief, cutting the head off the snake doesn't always work. I don't think his enterprise will just dissolve."

"You're worried someone worse might take his place?"

"Until we know otherwise, yes."

"But you don't object to his death on moral grounds...?"

"Not particularly, no--hmm? Ah. Bohwanox just showed up. Hold on."

"Bohwanox? What's he doing here?"

"He's telling me."

"I can't hear him."

"Yeah, your soul isn't linked to him, so--agh, I can't carry two conversations at once like this. Just wait a minute."

"...A-alright... um..."

"There's something wrong."

"What is it?"

"Bohwanox says he followed someone here who had the aura of death. But it went away on its own, somehow. I'm not sure what he means. He says he's been investigating a series of missing persons reports, and he thinks this might be related."

"Ah, uh... w-what do we do?"

"...Bah. We need you awake. This person he followed is probably in serious danger."

"But it's too soon, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"So, then...?"

"We make do. Get ready. Ah. Looks like they're dissecting your body."

"Wha--?"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Hector's eyes stuck open, and he saw a woman in blue scrubs standing over him. He looked down to see his chest cavity pried open with metal clamps, and a pair of burly thugs watching in the corner of the room. One of them was wearing his helm.

She noticed his eyes open and froze. "Uh, guys..."

Hector sat up. They all screamed.

'Keep them quiet!' Garovel yelled.

He bounded up and barreled into the man with his helm, punching him in the gut and yanking the helm free. The other guy slugged him in the face, flooring Hector. They jumped at the opportunity to kick the huge gash that was his chest.

Hector caught one of their legs and flung the man into his partner. They both bounced off the wall and toppled onto one another. He waited for them to get back up, but when he saw them reaching for their guns, he pulled their weapons straight out of their hands and pistol-whipped them both over the head. They stayed down.

Hector eyed the medic crouching in the corner and donned his helm once more. "Please remain quiet..."

The woman nodded furiously.

More guards filed into the room, however. Hector used the first thug who entered to push through the others and create a path for himself. He made sure that they all went down before they could start shooting or call for help. A couple of them ended up caught in the rafters. He initially thought that the corridor had a typically bare ceiling, so he was confused when the first guy he kicked up there didn't come back down.

'Well, this descended quickly,' said Garovel.

Hector ripped the clamps out of his chest, tearing flesh and bleeding all over the marble floor. Broken ribs stuck out at jagged angles, and he touched his own beatless heart. He tried not to think about how painful this would be later. 'So where do I go now?'

Bohwanox appeared through the wall. 'I apologize for my imposition,' he said.

'Uh, it-it's fine...'

'Bohwanox can't hear you,' Garovel said as he initiated the regeneration, causing Hector's bones to bend and snap back into place. 'He isn't linked to your brain like I am, so you have to talk aloud to him.'

"Oh. Uh... Garovel said that, um... you saw the aura of death go away on its own?"

'Yes,' said Bohwanox. 'It just vanished, with no apparent cause. Then the man it belonged to suddenly decided to come straight here, as if in a trance. I saw him go this way. Please follow me.'

Hector did so, smashing security cameras where he saw them. "I thought, um... I thought you didn't care about saving people," said Hector.

'I don't like to get involved, if that's what you mean,' said Bohwanox. 'But this is something different. You've sensed it too, haven't you, Garovel? The strange discomfort in this city?'

'Mm. I have. You believe this to be connected?'

'Not just connected. I believe it to be the root cause. I believe these missing people may be dying very... abnormally.'

"What do you mean?"

'I'm not wholly sure myself,' said Bohwanox. 'These people who have been going missing, they're all different ages, races, and genders. I couldn't find a common thread between them all, and their disappearances don't seem to have benefited anyone in particular. So I don't suspect that they're being held prisoner for sake of ransom or slavery. I believe they're being killed. But if that's the case, then why haven't I found any trapped or wandering souls? It's very strange.'

'And troubling,' added Garovel.

'Here,' said Bohwanox. 'I saw him go through that door.'

"You didn't check inside already?"

'No, I...' Bohwanox shied away from the door. 'I was... reluctant.'

Hector tilted his head. He looked at Garovel for an explanation, but the other reaper was also backing away. "A-are you guys okay...?"

'You feel that, Garovel?'

'I do. I'm wondering how I missed it before...'

'Because it's quiet,' said Bohwanox. 'It's like a shadow that doesn't belong. You don't realize it's there until the person casting it suddenly moves... and it lingers.'

The reapers both fell in behind. 'Please go first, Hector,' said Garovel. 'And be very careful.'

The door was locked, so he broke it down. It clapped to the floor so loudly that he was sure more guards would be coming soon, but the first things he saw in the room were two people--a young man in a dark suit staring back at him and an older, seated gentleman staring vacantly at a wall.

"Excuse me," said the younger man, "but what the hell do you think... you are... Hmm." He squinted at Hector. "What do we have here?"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"Fine," said Colt. "Then maybe you can tell me more about your family. I've only ever met you and Geoffrey."

"Ah." Rofal took a swig of his alcohol. "My father and mother retired successfully some ten years ago now. Great man, my father. These days, some people question his lucidity--namely, my mother--but sometimes, I can still see that brilliance of his. That ambition. One moment, he'll be talking about his great grandfather or his dead sister like they're in the room; and then the next, he'll be whispering to me about some secret store room he had built thirty years ago."

"I met him once," said Swank. "He offered to cut my hair for me. And replace it with possum fur. I'm still not sure if he was joking."

Rofal laughed. "Apart from that, I have a few siblings. I inherited the business because my older sister, bless her, hates everything about it."

Colt snorted. "One of you isn't a criminal?"

"Oh, she has the mind for it. We all know she does. But she fell in love with an electrician and decided to become a housewife, if you can believe that. Still not sure I do."

"What about your other siblings?" Colt asked.

"You are very curious today," said Rofal, laughing lowly. "If this is part of some ploy to take my family members hostage in exchange for your own, then for your own sake, allow me to dispel that plan in its infancy. You can take whomever you want. Or try to. My family members certainly do not need me to protect them from the likes of you. They would be upset if I did."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Ha."

"What about Geoffrey's parents? Are they dead?"

"No, they are alive. But they entrusted him to me. They struggled with him as a child."

"I can imagine."

"I do not think you can," said Rofal.

Colt raised an eyebrow.

Rofal downed the rest of his whiskey and rested the glass in front of him. "There are very few people in this world who frighten me," he said. "I am all too glad to have that monster's favor."

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

'What the hell is that thing?' said Bohwanox.

'I don't know,' said Garovel.

Hector didn't have time to ask for an explanation. A group of five more guards appeared in the doorway and laid hands on him. He soon dispatched them, rendering three unconscious and two groaning in pain on the floor.

"Oh, wow! What a pleasure to meet you! My name is Geoffrey. What is yours?" When Hector did not reply, Geoffrey's face scrunched up. "Why are the interesting people always so rude to me?"

Upon a second look, Hector noticed an unusual décor in this room. Not more than a meter to Geoffrey's left lay a row of objects encased in glass. A foot, a hand, a nose, a little finger, a pair of eyes, a hairy scalp, a shriveled heart, a blackened brain. Various sizes and skin colors. All bloody.

Hector's expression darkened beneath his helm. He eyed the vacant-eyed man in the chair. "Who is that person?" he said.

"Oh, him?" said Geoffrey. "He is my new fetcher. My old one was starting to smell."

"...Fetcher?"

"Yeah. I use him to bring me stuff. From the outside. My uncle does not want me to leave, and I want him to be happy, so I use fetchers."

'That man is dead,' said Garovel. 'The body is alive, but there is no soul.'

"Hmm." Geoffrey's eyes moved, and Hector wasn't sure where the young man was looking. "If you will not tell me your name, then what about these two here?"

Hector blinked. "What?"

'He can see us!' said Bohwanox.

"Why, yes, I can." Geoffrey grinned. "Am I not supposed to?"

The reapers backed away even further.

"You asked what 'that thing' is," said Geoffrey. "You were referring to me?"

'Yes,' said Garovel. 'What are you?'

"I am not sure what you mean."

'You are NOT human,' said Bohwanox. 'So why do you look like one?'

"Hmm. You know, I have always had a feeling I was not human. Everyone treats me like one, so I did not think much more about it, but you seem to know what you are saying. What are you, anyhow? Phantoms?" Geoffrey stepped closer and reached out to touch Bohwanox.

Hector placed himself in the way. "Did you... kill that man there?"

Geoffrey eyed Hector again. "You have not answered any of my questions, yet you continue to ask more of your own. You are trying my patience."

"Too bad," said Hector. "Did you kill him?"

"I suppose I did," said Geoffrey. "The soul, as your friend called it, is always destroyed when I take them for my own. Now out of my way. I wish to inspect your phantom." He tried to push past, but Hector held him back.

"I don't think so."

"Hmm. Interesting."

In an instant, something red flashed across Hector's vision, and suddenly, his forearm was gone, flesh and bone cut so cleanly off that it took a moment to start bleeding. Geoffrey held the severed limb by the wrist.

Hector remained unfazed.

Geoffrey tossed the meat over his shoulder and stared. "Did that not hurt?" he asked.

Hector clocked him in the mouth, and Geoffrey flew back, toppling over the sofa. "Did that?"

Geoffrey stood up immediately, shaking his head. "That was surprising," he said. And when he looked up, a crimson shade was covering his mouth.

Hand growing back, Hector's eyes narrowed. "What is that?"

"I see no reason to tell you." Geoffrey bounded forward and swung, but Hector just took the hit and punched him in the gut, launching him even farther back than before. When Geoffrey stood, this time the red shadow covered his stomach. He began to laugh. "Interesting! You certainly hit hard!"

Hector waited as the young man approached. The reapers fell back into the corridor, observing from beyond the doorway. "What the hell are you?"

"A good question," said Geoffrey. "I would like to know as well. But right now, I am more interested in what they are. You are not going to let me touch them, are you?"

Hector made no response.

"Fine." Geoffrey waved his hand, and the man in the chair sprung up and leapt on Hector, thrashing and biting.

Hector flung him off, but not before Geoffrey ran past. There was nothing between him and the reapers. They split up, and Geoffrey went after Bohwanox. Hector pursued, but they were too far ahead. Geoffrey reached out, and it seemed like Bohwanox was still far enough away, but from Geoffrey's hand, the same red shadow flew forth, jagged and fast, and it slashed the reaper's backside.

'Agh!'

"I just want to touch you!" Geoffrey laughed.

Hector was there. He grabbed Geoffrey by the collar and threw him against the wall, keeping him pinned there. He glanced at Bohwanox, who was turning over in the air. "Are you alright?!"

Ghostly black-and-white smoke rose from the wound. 'I-I'm not sure,' he said, grimacing.

'You'll recover,' said Garovel. 'But you need to leave now. You've done all you can here.'

'Y-yes, very well.' Bohwanox disappeared through the wall.

"Hey, where did he go?!" said Geoffrey. "Come back! I was not done!"

Hector made a fist and punched him in the face with all his strength. The wall cracked behind Geoffrey's head.

But the red shade was there again, and when it vanished, Geoffrey's face remained untarnished. "Your attacks hurt," said Geoffrey, "but they do not wound. Not like this." He speared Hector through the chest with a red-coated hand. Blood flew everywhere. Geoffrey's hand stuck out of Hector's back, clutching an extracted heart.

Bleeding from the mouth, Hector did not move. "...You were saying?" He headbutted him, reared back, and kicked Geoffrey through the wall.

Geoffrey flew into the billiards room. Wood and plaster rained down on the pool table he'd landed on. He sat up and eyed the bloody heart in his hands. "How the hell...?" His gaze locked on Garovel. "This is their doing, isn't it?" He climbed to his feet.

'Behind you!' Garovel shouted.

Hector at once knew what he meant. Geoffrey's puppet man was running at him. Hector stepped to the right, caught the man, and swung him straight into Geoffrey. The pair crashed into a ceiling fan and hit the ground in a heap of shattered glass and splintered wood.

Once again, Geoffrey stood. The red shadow covered his entire body before disappearing again. "You are beginning to annoy me."

"I've never been very good at making friends..." Hector's chest began to reform for the second time that night.

Geoffrey waved his hand. When his puppet man did not immediately leap forth, he turned to see why.

Small cuts riddled the man's face, and his leg was bent the wrong way. He struggled even to stand, collapsing after a moment.

Geoffrey frowned. "Broken already? I just made this one." He sighed. "Oh well." A red flash cleaved the man in two. Blood didn't start spraying until his body hit the ground.

Hector scowled. "Fucker...!"

"It appears I need a new fetcher," said Geoffrey, starting closer. "Perhaps I should make things simple and just take you." The red shadow swirled free of Geoffrey's body, amassing in hulking form.

Hector dove back into the hallway, but the shadow still enveloped him. He thrashed within its grasp, expecting some kind of horrific pain or black out, but there was none. He turned to Garovel, who looked entirely unconcerned--even strangely amused.

The streak of crimson bounded back to Geoffrey, and the young man stared at Hector in disbelief. "Why?! You should be mine, now!"

'Fool,' said Garovel. 'You can't have him. He already belongs to me.'

Geoffrey lashed out with a red whip.

Hector and Garovel split out of the way. Geoffrey tore after the reaper. Garovel slipped through a wall, and when Geoffrey turned, that metal helm was right in his face. Hector launched him the full length of the corridor to leave an impressive crack in the far wall. He could already see Geoffrey getting up as Garovel's skull poked out of the wall.

'Hector,' said the reaper. 'This is a losing battle.'

'What do you mean? I'm doing fine, aren't I?'

'For the moment. But we aren't prepared for this fight. There's no time to explain. You need to remember what we came here for.'

Hector's expression soured. 'The children...'

'Colt will probably be needing your help about now.'

He saw Geoffrey charging him.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

The conversation ended abruptly when a pounding thud shook the room. The three men all eyed each other a moment.

"What the fuck was that?" said Swank.

Rofal picked up the phone on his desk.

Colt's gaze hardened. "Who are you calling?"

Rofal looked at him but did not respond. "Report," he said into the receiver. A brief interval passed as he listened. "I see."

Colt shifted in his seat. He did not like the look on the other man's face.

Rofal hung up and started dialing again.

He could wait no longer. Colt bolted up and ripped the phone from Rofal's grasp.

"So this was your game." Rofal was far too calm. "I am disappointed, Colt."

Colt smashed the phone on the ground.

Rofal stood as men entered from the far door. "Congratulations," he said. "You correctly guessed the next call I was going to make. Your children are still on their way here."

He assessed the numbers. Seven against one. All armed, save himself.

"I suppose I could find another phone, but they should be here any minute, so why bother? Your resolve is clear to me now at least." Rofal walked around the desk. "But you know, I am nothing if not determined. I will give you one more chance."

"Is that so?" said Colt.

"When they arrive, I will allow you to choose which of the two you wish to keep."

"Like fuck you will."

"Refuse, and I will take both. And I will not kill them, Colt. They will become my children. I have none of my own, you see. I will raise them. They will come to love me. They will come to hate you. And when they are old enough, I will send them to kill you in my name."

Colt's expression alone seemed enough to slaughter everyone in the room.

"Agree to my terms, and you will be allowed to keep one child for yourself. Our amiable relationship may continue, and perhaps in time, you will be able to earn back your second child."

He clenched his teeth. "I'm going to kill you."

"You seem so determined not to leave this building alive. Perhaps you would prefer to watch as I kill them in front of you before you die as well? That would certainly save me considerable time and effort."

Another pounding thud shook the room even more violently than before. Everyone looked around nervously.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about right now," said Colt.

"Who--?"

The double doors flung open, and the kid ran into the room, metal helm looking between everyone. A red streak followed him in and struck at him. He dodged the first couple strikes before it pierced his leg, dropping him to his knee. Red coiled around the kid like rope, swung him up, then smashed him into the floor. The kid struggled in his bindings as Geoffrey entered the room, the red source.

"Pardon us, Uncle."

"Who the hell is this?" Rofal asked.

"He refuses to tell me," said Geoffrey. "You should stand back, Uncle. He is rather dangerous. And very protective of--" Geoffrey choked the word back as the kid started pulling on the red streak, dragging Geoffrey towards him.

A jagged red blade grew from Geoffrey's other hand, and he slashed the kid. It cut into the helm and got stuck there. The kid pulled him in the rest of the way and smacked him in the jaw, freeing himself. He launched Geoffrey across the room, collapsing a table as he landed.

The kid looked to Colt. "Are they here?!" he said.

Still a bit in shock, Colt struggled to answer. "Soon!"

Back on his feet, Geoffrey's wild eyes searched frantically. He pointed to a few of Rofal's lackeys. "You three!" A surge of crimson shot forth and enveloped them. They quickly panicked, began screaming like they'd been set on fire, then all too suddenly, fell deathly silent. "Kill him!" They all bounded toward the kid, splitting up to attack from different sides.

Regaining himself, Colt took advantage of the chaos. While the other mooks were distracted, he ran up behind one of them. He kicked him in the back of the knee, took the man into a chokehold with one arm, and stole the gun from its holster with the other. He immediately switched off the safety and opened fire. Two shots, two dead lackeys.

The kid was tossing his three around like they were lawn chairs. For some reason, Geoffrey seemed intent on getting around the kid rather than fighting him directly, and the kid seemed equally intent on holding his ground.

Rofal scrambled through his desk, no doubt for a weapon, but when he saw that Colt already had the gun on him, he stopped and backed away. For the first time that Colt had seen, the man looked genuinely fearful. "Be reasonable, Colt... If you kill me--"

Colt shot him in the chest.

Rofal dropped, hands vainly touching the wound as he watched Colt walking closer. "No...!"

"Yes." The bullet splattered Rofal's brain all over the floor.

He didn't have long to feel satisfied, however.

"What have you done?!" someone yelled. It was Geoffrey. The red shadow boiled around him. "What have you DONE?!"

Colt opened fire. The shadow deflected each bullet, causing Geoffrey scarcely more than a momentary grimace. The magazine soon ran out.

The kid ran up and grabbed Geoffrey by the arm, then flung him back into the hall. One of Geoffrey's minions was back up, and Colt bashed his skull in with the butt of his gun.

"What the fuck is that red shit?!"

"No time," the kid said. "Where will your children arrive?"

"I don't know!"

"Think!"

"Ah--maybe the elevator in Rofal's bedroom. But it could just be the main entrance. I can't know for--"

The red flew around the door and straight for Colt. The kid jumped in front of him and took it through the chest, losing a mass of blood. The jagged shade stopped just short of Colt's stomach.

"Go!" the kid yelled. "I'll check the entrance!"

Colt didn't need to be told twice. He stopped only to rip a gun off of one of the dead bodies. The other two minions were up and barreling at him. He didn't hesitate to shoot them both in the head.

He kicked the door to Rofal's bedroom open. The elevator sat on the far left side, adjacent the bathroom. The numbers above the elevator door were already lighting up in descending order.

Colt ducked into the bathroom and waited.