I don't know how long I ran, but by the time I stumbled to a halt and took in my surroundings, night had fully engulfed the city. I was clearly no longer in the glamorous part of town. A few flickering street lamps spread dim light onto the street, and every home was shuttered tight, even though it couldn't have been terribly late in the evening. A pub on the corner emitted music and shouting. A faint scent of rotting fruit wrinkled my nose. It dawned on me that I was in a strange city, in a dangerous neighborhood, without a friend or any clue how to get out. I instantly regretted how recklessly I'd navigated my path.
The shouts from the pub grew louder as the door opened, and three men staggered out. In the light spared me by the street lamps, I caught a glimpse of their faces. They had enormous, hairy jaws, and when they opened their mouths, sharp, dog-like teeth became visible. Mutants.
I'd heard only horror stories of these soldiers, taken as children and turned into bloodthirsty monsters forced to work for Queen Levana. They had been sent to terrorize Earth only a few months before, and many thousands of people had been killed by their ravaging. Thankfully, none had come near my tiny village, and my family and our friends remained safe during the war, but the mention of the mutants still sent goosebumps skittering over my skin. After all, many of the soldiers had rejoiced when Queen Selene set them free, but there were still a few whom I'd heard would kill at any chance they got.
Maybe they won't see me, I told myself, standing still as a statue. Maybe they aren't the rogues I've heard about.
No such luck.
The mutant in the lead held out a hand to halt his comrades. He sniffed the air audibly, and then, with a ghastly grin illuminated in the lamplight, he turned towards me.
I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I should have run, but my adrenaline had already flooded from my limbs, taking my energy with it.
"What do you smell, Rawls?"
Rawls's companions raised their own noses and peered through the shadows at my trembling figure.
"Lost, are we, little Earthen?" one of the men asked as together, they advanced on me.
I took an impulsive step back as they drew closer. I could hear their raspy breathing even from across the street.
"Oh, no, don't run," coaxed Rawls. "We want to help you find your way home. It's been so very long since we had a good meal…"
I retreated further. My fists tightened around the handle of my bag until my fingers ached. My back hit something, and I wheeled around, afraid I'd see another mutant, but it was just a fence. Just a fence. More like just a trap. The mutants had spread out, so gradually I hadn't noticed until the maneuver was complete, but now there was no escape. No way out. I pressed myself against the fence, hoping against hope that it would give way and I could vanish into the darkness.
"Leave me alone," I pleaded. "I don't want any trouble."
"Leave me alone," the mutant on the left mimicked in a high voice. The right-hand mutant sniggered and stepped closer.
They were only a few feet from me now, spread in a semicircle around me. This close, I could see a bite mark in the ear of the one on the right, and a ragged scar across the nose of the mutant on the right. I didn't know their names, of course, but the one part of my brain still working told me that Bite and Scarface seemed good titles for them. Because that was helpful to know when I was about to die. Rawls held himself tall, like an army general, but an beastly hunger glinted in his eye as he surveyed me. In desperation, I swung my bag at Rawls. He dug his claws into the fabric and tore it from my grasp. Clothes tumbled from the bag as he chucked it to the ground.
"Pathetic," he sneered.
Bite bared his teeth and snarled, "Hold still, Earthen. This won't hurt a bit."
I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for the sharp bite of pain and then nothingness. Instead, I heard a yelp and a growl and heard something thump on the ground at my feet. Easing one eye open, the sight which greeted me tugged a gasp from my lips.
Mr. Tier stood in the middle of the street, his blood-red robe draped over his broad shoulders and his skin painted pure white against the twilight. His grey eyes flashed in the cold light of the street lamps as they swept disdainfully over the two mutants still looming before me and over Bite, twitching at my feet.
Rawls glared right back at him with the same contempt, but Scarface's posture was hesitant.
"Leave her alone." The order came from Mr. Tier.
"Why should we?" asked the leader.
Mr. Tier stepped closer. "I'm sure you remember what happens to those bold enough to disobey an order." He pointed at Bite. "He just got an unpleasant reminder."
The men glanced at each other.
"Of course we remember," Rawls grunted, "but you are weak, Thaumaturge Tier. You haven't stretched yourself in quite some time. You could control one, maybe two of us, but three?" The knife-like tips of his canines peeked menacingly from between his lips. "We're too many for you."
Mr. Tier said nothing. With footsteps as deliberate and noiseless as the hungry wolves they were, Rawls and Scarface left me and began to prowl towards Mr. Tier. Bite remained motionless.
How easily I could have run away right then and never returned. How simple it would have been to run to the palace and from there back to Earth, and to never have to think about mutants or thaumaturges again. So why wouldn't my feet take me? Why was I still pressed against a fence, staring at this man who'd imprisoned my father and then myself, who'd killed who knew how many people in his lifetime, and who could, in a few short moments, pay for his actions with his life? Why should I care for his safety?
The men circled Mr. Tier, who still did nothing. Scarface seemed to be waiting for an order, a signal from Rawls. Bite watched the scene through eyes dark with anger. He seemed held to the ground by some invisible force.
I don't know what the signal was. All I know is that my breath caught in my throat as, all of a sudden, both Scarface and Rawls lunged at Mr. Tier in a burst of teeth and claws. Scarface instantly crumpled to the ground whimpering, while Rawls was backhanded by Mr. Tier's swift fist. He backpedaled and fell in a trembling heap next to Scarface.
Bite rose from the ground as swiftly as a sparrow takes to flight, but just as swiftly, Mr. Tier slipped a pistol from his robe and pointed the black barrel at the mutant. Bite hardly slowed. He knocked the gun from the thaumaturge's hand just as it fired and pounced upon his prey. The shot disappeared harmlessly into the night, but the sharp sound elicited a shriek from my lungs.
The gun clattered to the ground a few feet in front of where I stood, just within the reach of Rawls. He didn't look up but instead continued trembling, in what seemed to be intense pain.
Mr. Tier and his attacker wrestled silently, the mutant attempting to bite Mr. Tier's neck, and Mr. Tier trying with all his might to throw Bite from himself. The only sounds were a few grunts and my heart pounding in my chest. It had never occurred to me how quiet a fight could really be, even in the middle of an abandoned street at night. Just another item to add to my list of facts I never wanted to learn.
Scarface still writhed on the ground, but Rawls pushed himself weightily from the pavement. His gaze locked on the gun and then on me. In the space of a breath, I calculated my chances of reaching the gun first. He would of course be faster than me, but I was much closer. By my reckoning, it would be a tie, and a tie could–no, would–mean death. So be it. I would die anyway if I let him have the pistol. I might as well go down with a fight.
We eyed each other for a long moment, then I ran. He ran, too. Our frantic footsteps were added to the sounds of the night. It was a panicked race, the girl versus the soldier, both sprinting for their lives for only a few breathless moments–
Then the gun was in my shaking hands, Rawls only a stride away. He stopped short and scowled as I raised the barrel to point at his chest, fear clawing at my insides even though I had already won. I pulled my finger tighter over the trigger, taking a deep breath before the shot.
A strained outburst from Mr. Tier broke my resolution. A few feet away, he and his attacker still struggled, but Mr. Tier was steadily losing ground. Bite's teeth crept closer and closer to his neck.
It dawned on me that I didn't know how many bullets the pistol contained. What if there was only one left? I had to decide immediately–should I save Mr. Tier or myself? Which mutant should I shoot? Who knew if the gun would even fire if I pulled the trigger right then? My gaze darted between the two soldiers. Rawls was regaining his confidence, and he looked ready to pounce. My trembling grip had revealed my inexperience.
Rawls took a step closer to me, his eyes gleaming hungrily. I pointed the gun straight into his face and tightened my finger over the trigger.
Mr. Tier yelled. Blood deepened the red of his robes as it spread over his shoulder. He'd prevented Bite's teeth from reaching his neck, but he couldn't deflect the bite completely. He faltered, and the soldier leaned in for another bite.
BANG!
Bite lost his grip on Mr. Tier and slid to the pavement.
I stared in horror at the smoking barrel of my gun. My hands weren't shaking anymore. I heard a snarl beside me, and before I could think, I swiveled and shot the soldier now advancing on me. I gaped as Rawls cried out in pain.
He clutched his arm, baring his teeth threateningly at me. Scarface scrambled to his feet, and the two of them scuttled off into the night, staring daggers over their shoulders.
I found myself staring into nothingness, trying to process what had just happened. I hadn't meant to shoot. I hadn't made up my mind yet. Slowly, it dawned on me: I hadn't pulled the trigger. Someone else had made up my mind for me. Horror chilled my gut. The gun slipped through my limp fingers and clattered to the street.
Mr. Tier had made me kill a man.