Blood in Each Corner (1)

'What the hell is going on in this city…'

Recruitment?

Hope paused.

Should he answer like he was a part of it…?

In his peripheral, Hope could see the hanging man twitch again. His bruised eyes faintly seen through the fog pleaded once more for Hope to uphold his deal. Ironic it was. Rather than the ridiculous possibility of the man betraying him, Hope was instead.

'Hope, you promised!'

'Promise me, darling…Don't go outside–'

'Don't forget and promise me-'

'How…c…o…uld…you do this–'

'Please, Hope–'

'Do what I say.'

"..."

Hope's face remained poised as the chorus rose.

But a sharp sting at the next moment cut through the noise. Through the voices. His left hand was clenching tight enough for his nails to pierce his skin.

'How annoying.'

Drip. Drip.

Hope ignored the people's reaction. Although he couldn't blame them. He willingly caused himself to bleed.

But besides that problem inside his mind, the external problem had to be handled. These strays. Hope could tell the truth that he wasn't a part of some scheme that they so assumed. Whatever the hell this recruitment was. But the truth wasn't always what one wanted to hear anyways. Not when they'd already solidified their assumptions.

His denial would fall on 'deaf ears' as one would say.

Hope then shrugged, flicking the blood off his palm as if it were a nuisance.

"My mistake. A last desperate act you could say of them." Hope said. 

The ragged woman frowned from the broken entrance of the building. She emerged completely out of the shadows, shaking her head at him. 

"You're a little young to be on your own." She said in a hushed tone. Almost as if emotionally affected by his age. But there was a subtle gleam of smiling teeth as she said those words. 

Hope blinked at the sight. "Like I said. They're desperate."

"Ha…Clearly. But look what fell outta the Sector." She threatened her knife at him. "Now move. Step away from the man."

Hope side-glanced at the pitiful hanging man, catching a whiff of stench mixed with wet stone in the air. 

The man's toes shifted on the weight of the car. Feet shaking as if he would give way at any moment. His head painfully tilted and pulled as the tight cord, and the scratch Hope made with his sword, drew blood like a red leakage. Hope was already back on the patched ground, but he took seven steps away to satisfy the woman. 

"The dead–" The woman began. "–should not claim him. Not so soon."

Death would have made more sense. 

But the dead…?

"I know how ghosts are described." Hope said as he eyed the other hanging figures around them. They were like hazy, thick shadowed lines in the mist. A morbid crowd suspended above their heads. "But I'm sure the dead are…dead."

"Oh, an unbeliever are you? A Sector Two person of all people."

"..."

Hope restrained himself from letting out a sigh.

The Sector Two people seemed…believers of sorts. 

Like that crossing movement that old lady did at that time, and mentioned some 'light' or 'devil' reference. And also remembering back on those memories, he could hear some of them praying as did the old lady. Forceful gratitudes to suppress any of their negative emotions. 

But Hope was sure the dead were dead. 

If killing a Dreamer, Sleeper, whatever one would call them, resulted in him taking a part of their soul essence, logically the rest of their soul became nonexistent. 

And that didn't sound like a bad thing for him to believe.

"You run for Mave, eh?"

Hope side-glanced at the next person who spoke. Also in a hushed tone, yet his expression was lively as if he relished this cornered situation.

"Probably from them hunting parties, I bet."

"And fancy sword too." 

The man made a snarky grin as he pointed a crowbar at Hope's sword. "We'll take that weapon of yours first."

Hope's eyebrow twitched. 

'Like hell you will.'

"Not a fair trade." Hope said flatly.

"Pfft. There's no fairness around here, boy. Only survival."

'I'm getting that.'

Hope looked at the men's simple weapons before looking down at his own spine sword. 

The rows of pitched claws serving for the blade's teeth looked menacing compared to theirs. Hope supposed his weapon was their idea out of a struggling fight with the monsters to a slightly less struggling one…? Or maybe a pathetic boost of confidence. Survival may have shaped their actions, but Hope doubted that a simple upgrade of a weapon could solve their fighting styles.

But did this mean he have to fight through these men afterall—

Kraaaar~

"…!"

"…!"

The sound of Nightmare Creatures Hope had heard in the distance earlier sounded a little closer. A demented cry not from this world warped in the air. 

A mix of a howl and a roar. 

"Don't make so much noise now." The woman hissed at her men.

Hope paused. "So you want me to oblige…quietly?"

The woman let out a breathy laugh.

"And what choice do you have, boy? Don't be so ignorant now. These aren't just common people of this area strung up on these cords."

Rrrrrr…

The buildings groaned at that moment. The pole from which the hanging man hung creaked. The shattered windows that gaped into their void stared below like hollow eyes. 

The shadows watched. The wind hummed. The fog breathed. The world seemed sensitive to the scene. 

The corpses subtly moved like shaky blurs as Hope watched them.

'What did Sector Two do to piss these people off?'

'Your vaolor is sadly a little too early anyway. And almost untamed it seems…'

'It was nice chatting with you, soldier. You'll be of use to me sometime later then.'

'Our preparations seem too slow…'

He paused as Mave's voice tickled in his ear.

Leaving that settlement behind apparently wasn't enough to escape their influence. Some scheme…some trick that even the damn cohort was involved stirred even the strays. 

'How unfortunate.'

Hope supposed he left on time when he did after meeting with them. But did he really?

Rustle. Rustle. 

They began to close around him as did the mist, coming at each side like a pack of gray wolves. The cold air felt absent and his grip loosened as Hope's eyes scanned between each figure. 

"You must ask yourselves then–" Hope said as he looked back at the ragged woman.

Staring into her eyes.

And at that moment, a visible shudder ran through her. As if she was naked. Vulnerable. Standing before not a boy but something else.

She involuntarily stepped back, trying to fake confidence. "What?"

Hope raised his sword. "—Is this all really necessary?"

"..."

"You cheeky bastard." One of the men let out a grunt of annoyance and lunged forward.

But as the man pathetically swung his pipe. And before Hope could even swing his sword in a deliberate arc.

The metal pole again creaked behind him.

Rrrrrr–

Snip…snip…SNAP!

The cord around the man's neck snapped with a loud twang.

He dropped.

That pile of pitiful flesh crumpled onto the car's windshield. 

Glass shattered, each fragment screaming as his body sprawled across the shards. His head lolled to one side. The broken cord that once wrapped around his neck like a twisted collar left only a gruesome deep cut.

"...!"

"...!"

"…"

'Shit…'

Everyone froze.

Their eyes were wide enough that they could have popped out of their heads.

Even though Hope wasn't expressive, he stilled as well. Then he and everyone else slowly turned towards the shrouded street where the fog's damp breath limited the space. 

From where the monster's howl had first sounded from.

Kkgrraaar!

And it came again.

Then prowling steps.

Muffled at first, but then coming in violent bursts.