What do we have here?

Robbery, assault, and mental harm to a nobleman. Those are some serious charges against you, sir Jullianus Retan. I don’t know why a Shaper like you would do such a thing, but surely you must have a reason for this? What do you mean, no reason? You plead guilty to all charges? This court session is not some joke, sir Jullius. I assure you. What’s that? My mother is a what!? Stop that! Is that actually… I think I’m going to be sick. That’s it! I’ve had it with you!. By the power bestowed upon my office, I exile you to the Burrows! Never to walk, nor be seen on Cedian soil ever again! Now get this degenerate out of my courtroom, before he flings more shit at me!

- A most unusual court session.

The demon hung limply over the guard’s shoulder, snores rhythmically interrupted with each step the man took.

Gob. Wake up, buddy. I really could use some help over here. The man’s face was blanketed by wispy shadow drifting inside his hood, and darkness from the imminent sundown, but that didn’t stop his pair of eyes from drilling a hole into my back. Make that four pairs. The familiar escorts were even more twitchy than usual, not that they could help it. Who would’ve expected him to cling to me like that? Then again, his mother didn’t exactly give me any normal vibes when I met her. Maybe their family is just a bunch of social weirdos.

“Come on now, Marcus. Why won’t you tell me about that tattoo on your back?” Maximilian asked with sparkling, green eyes.

I didn’t mean to off him, alright? So stop glaring daggers at me! The killing intent behind me was suffocating, or maybe it was these damn clothes. These so called noble garments were almost impossible to move in, let alone breath. Not to mention the damned shoes that came with it. It was like they were made to crush toes or something. Why would anyone wear this willingly!? Maybe they never did, and they were forced to wear them to festivities like the one were going to now. Now that would explain permanently pissed nobles.

We were getting close to the plaza of this monstrously big Academy. Just like everything else in this place, it didn’t lose in terms of size or grandiosity, either. Fountains, statues, and other decorations, littered these stone grounds. Though none of them could compare with the big golden clock ticking away above the school entrance. Clocks were notoriously expensive, and one this big must have cost several smuggling runs worth of money. These people are downright crazy. Even my Greed seemed to agree on that point. Gold tended to get its attention, but not when people were pissing it away like cheap wine. Everything about this place was ridiculous, be it the dorms, the parks, or even the damned toilets. Why even make golden toilet seats!? Seriously, what’s the point!? And don’t get me started on the compulsive urge to trim everything that can be considered green. Was it really necessary to hire people for grass measuring? Why does such a job even exist? At least the arena was as plain as it could be; I’d rather sleep over there than in the dorms. It wasn’t like I didn’t like the comfy beds, or the new-found existence of toilet paper. It was just that everything in this place was just too much. Some comfort I could understand, but the level of pampering that was displayed in this place was downright nauseating. The Warlocks, and Shapers, this placed housed might be the best of the best, but battle didn’t tolerate those weak of mind. Anyone that graduated from this place was bound to end up in a ditch somewhere. Maybe this isn’t the way to go?

“It’s not nice to ignore your roommate, you know?” Maximilian said as we entered the stone plaza. He blew away some of the silver hair covering his eyes, not paying attention to the other people gawking at us, his gaze only focused one me. “But still, ranking first in the entire Warlock group. You’ve got to tell me how you did it.”

Therein lay the problem; there was nowhere to go. I was hoisted on the highest platform in the arena, and declared the most valuable of the first year attendees. I couldn’t care less about the entire ranking ceremony, nor did all the glares of disdain bother me. What really shocked my core was the sheer number of them. Only the top ten percent were selected to attend the Royal Academy, a mere seventy ascending the podium, leaving the remaining six-hundred and thirty something to be enrolled elsewhere. Seven-hundred fucking Warlocks in just their first year. I held the vague hope that Blackwall was just embellishing his invasion numbers, but with this much people enrolling each year it would seem he was making a conservative estimate. Sure, the Royal Academy may train piss-poor warriors with its pampering ways, but fighting twenty-to-one tended to make such trivial disadvantages obsolete. Forgot their demons. Make that forty-to-two.

“It probably has something to do with that high Earth affinity of yours,” Maximilian said as he poked my side.

I slapped his hand away. “I barely qualify as upper-low.” I could feel the waves of killing intent, behind me, intensify. “You were just stupid in your approach.”

Maximilian let out single laugh. “Hah, upper-low my ass.” The short gasp from the guards didn’t seem to bother him. “That’s a joke, surely? Your speed and control would put you at upper-mid, mid at the very least.” I don’t need your flattery. He stopped near a fountain as he grabbed my elegant jacket, pulling me closer. The soft trickle of nearby water contrasted by the raging torrent of hate within his eyes. “Don’t lie to me, rat. I’ve been lied to my whole life. It’s bad enough that other nobles kiss my ass everyday. I don’t need another bootlicker as my roommate.”

I pulled myself from his grasp. What’s his problem? “I could care less about your feelings.” His face seemed to soften at those words. “Besides, you nobles are far too full of yourselves for my liking.”

Maximilian let out a small chuckle. “I suppose we are.” He began straightening out my ruffled clothing; his former anger nowhere to be found. “Sorry about the outburst. Didn’t mean to grab you like that. It’s just… I’m sick and tired of playing these noble games all the time. Your no holds barred approach in the arena was a much needed breath of fresh air.” I could feel the icy stares of our surroundings judge me as he began dusting of my shoulders. “I was was afraid you were one of those people.” He looked at all the people sneering with disdain, holding eye-contact till they shied away. “Though why lie about your Earth affinity?”

I flinched. The look of disappointment he gave me told enough. What are you afraid of, Marcus? Sure, my permanent escorts served his household, and they were none to happy about the room arrangement. Especially with my little stunt in the arena. But I was going to be his roommate for a whole year. Might as well make the best of it.”Look, I’m sorry about exaggerating my Earth affinity. Truth is, I’m just at the low level.” Maximilian’s face became stoic. “It will probably be another year or two before I qualify as upper-low.”

He broke out in big grin, slapping my shoulder as he did. Why do people keep hitting me? “And here I though you were downplaying it!” He began to chuckle. “Turns out you were merely embellishing!” He slung an arm around my neck, leaning into me. “You and me are going to be great friends, Marcus. I just know it!” He turned his head towards me. “I was serious, though. You would definitely rank upper-mid at least.”

I escaped his clutches, taking a few steps back before speaking up, “Maybe with your piss-poor rating system, but not tested and true method of the Burrows. We rank purely based on firepower since speed and control should be a given. A single earth spike like mine, doesn’t amount to much. In order to be considered having a high affinity for Earth one would probably need to spike the whole arena floor at the same time.” Maximilian didn’t look impressed. “Instantaneously.”

He raised an eyebrow as a thin smile formed on his face. “Oh, that’s pretty impressive.” He began spreading his fingers towards the nearby fountain. “I wonder how you would rate my Water affinity.” His arms began to lightly shake as the water began to rumble. The liquid slowly rose into air, the entirety of the fountain drifting above him as his arms were trembling; all fingers spread wide to keep the ball of water from losing its form. Several onlookers crept closer until the sphere’s edge began to rumble. Not that their stares bothered to me; I was too busy concentrating on Maximilian’s goofy grin. “Catch!” He threw his arms forwards as his fingers switched to knife hands. Shit. I rolled forward as though my live depended on it. It was good that I did; my body narrowly avoided the blast of water directed at my former position. I ended in front of Maximilian. A quick kick towards the groin was all I needed. His face registered the mistake as his hands moved to protect his manly treasures. I quickly jumped back before the shrunken ball impacted the ground, soaking Maximilian thoroughly.

With his hair plastered to his face, and water leaking from his trousers, he looked downright miserable. Except that goofy grin. I answered his smile with one of my own. “A total failure. Zero points. My guess would be lowest of the low on the affinity scale!” Maximilian shrugged his shoulders. “See my point about speed and control? Besides, I could have killed you a dozen times over while you were busy lifting that ball.”

Maximilian gave a gracious bow. “I admit my defeat.” People around us began murmuring at the display. “Though I would say the latter is unimportant.” Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “That problem is easily fixed with enough Shapers and demons on protection duty. These one-on-one bouts hardly seem similar to battlefield conditions.”

I snorted. And what would you know about doing battle? “Everybody pulls their own weight in the Burrows. Besides, we don’t have the numbers to throw away protecting useless combatants.”

Maximilian began laughing. “You really are merciless, aren’t you?” He began shaking the water out of his boots. “Not that I’m completely innocent, either. I was really hoping you would have tired out after having that demon of yours manifested all day. But it seems you’re number one for a good reason.” What the fuck is he talking about? “No matter, let’s proceed to the banquet. Hopefully it will be warm enough to dry these clothes.”

“You’re not going to change?”

“Oh abyss, take me!” He almost looked offended. “I cheated, and still lost the fight. Displaying the shame of such a defeat is the least I can do as compensation.” It seemed he was not fucking with me since several heads around us nodded in understanding. More importantly, I didn’t detect a critical amount of bloodlust emanating from our personal escorts. Just the usual near-critical.

One of the lone onlookers caught my attention. I remembered her name when she stepped onto the podium during the ranking ceremony, though her appearance differed quite a bit from the one in the locket—especially the multitude of horns.

“Where are you going?” Maximilian asked as I made my way towards her. “Hey, don’t ignore me!” Wet clothes began squelching behind me. Not that I cared. I was simply too busy studying the woman before me. She had grown quite a lot. No longer did she have the body of a twelve-year-old, but one of a proper adult. One with the right curves in the right places. My guess would be eighteen or above. It was always a pain to identify a Shaper’s, or Warlock’s age. We aged normally to adulthood, only to slow to a crawl afterwards. Only those near the end of their natural life would visibly, and physically, age rapidly to their graves. It wasn’t a joke when Blackwall mentioned his impending death; he was quite serious. Still, this woman must have been very young otherwise she wouldn’t have been accepted here.

It may have been getting dark, but my eyes could clearly see the numerous dark, small horns riddling her body and elegant clothes. I know Wrath’s have a tendency to sprout horns, but this is bordering on the extreme. Only the more delicate areas seemed to have been spared from this manifestation, her face unblemished by the many protrusions, as well as her more bouncy assets. Focus, Marcus. Focus. I craned my neck upwards again, only to met with the fearful brown eyes of the crimson redhead. I reached my hand for her. “Sorry, Isabelle. I didn’t me-”

She slapped it away. “Don’ touch me!” I hissed. Her sharp, pointy horns had drawn a small gash across my left hand. “Don’t touch me,” she said with a softer voice. She was shivering lightly in my presence; her arms poised to strike if I got too close again. So that’s how it is. Extreme manifestation like hers weren’t the norm, but they were still there. Some were just born like that while others manifested them during less savory circumstances. I was born with icy blue eyes, though that changed quickly following a certain event. With a pretty face like hers, spikes protecting her body, and her obvious fear for me. It wasn’t exactly hard to put two and two together.

“You okay, Marcus?” Maximilian asked. He looked at the barely bleeding wound before his brow formed a small furrow. “Doesn’t look so bad.” He turned towards the shivering woman. “I know you are afraid, miss. But that doe-”

“Stop,” I said. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to grab her.” She remained wary, not lowering her hand, not even a little bit. “Look Isabelle. I’m not her to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

“How do you know my name?”

Maximilian scoffed. “My dear, you are this year’s highest ranking Awakened.” He paused for a reaction. He got none. “Out of the fifteen that made the cut, you were number one! That’s twice as many as normal pass, and you placed first!” Maximilian face began to twitch when she remained still. “Combine this with the fact that you placed seventh in the entire ranking, and you, dear madam, are now a hot topic among Cedia’s many bloodlines!” He poked his elbow into my ribs. “Though not so much as my buddy Marcus here. He’s downright notorious I tell you.”

She lowered her hand, her former wariness disappearing, though that didn’t mean she wasn’t on guard. “I see…” She lifted the hem of her skirt before giving a small bow. “But I’m sorry. I’m not interested in any potential relationships. I hope you’ll have a nice evening.” She quickly skirted away.

“Didn’t know you were into spikes, Marcus.”

I ignored him before shouting after Isabelle, “Richtus send me!” She stopped in her tracks. I pulled out the long golden chain with my right hand, the portrait dangling at the very end, careful not to stain it with what little blood trickled from my left. “We need to talk!”

She swiftly made her way back once she saw the chain. Not that her voice was very friendly when she snatched it from my hands. “Who gave this to you?”

“Richtus Redbridge did,” I said. She remained quiet. “You know. Old guy, silver hair with blotches of red.” Her face remained an impasse. “Stationed at the Lid. Likes to wear black armor whilst swinging that idiotically big warhammer of his.” The facade quickly crumbled. “Calls you his sun-”

She let out a long sigh. “That’s grandpa, all right.” Her eyes became sharp again as she eyed me. “I’ve heard nothing but bad things about you rats. Why do you have this?”

“He gave it to me.” She didn’t seem convinced. “Look, you can keep it. Your granddad helped me out off a tight spot so now I owe him one.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“He just asked me to protect you.” She seemed dubious of my intentions. Can’t blame her. “I don’t know the specifics either. He just asked me to protect you for six months. Was very specific about the six months part, and before you ask, I’ve have no clue why it’s six.”

“It isn’t that strange,” Maximilian chimed in. “Whether you like it or not, miss Isabelle, your recent rise, and status as a Awakened, is bound to aggravate those of the established bloodlines.” He surveyed our surroundings. “There’s probably no shortage among my peers that would target you out of spite. The nobles do tend to be quite the jealous creatures.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Says the noble Envy.”

He gasped as he lay the back of his hand to his forehead. “You wound me, Marcus. Lumping us Envys with that rabble of jealous humans. I’ll have you know that jealous and Envy are two completely different things.”

“Sure they are.”

He turned to Isabelle. “Oh, Madam. I implore you! Surely, you can help this savage see the light?” He pointed at me. “This barbarian can’t be let loose to spread his heretical thoughts! Lest he doom our enlightened civilization!”

She didn’t even bother to register his whining. I like her. “But why only six months?”

Maximilian raised his finger to answer before lowering it again. “I have no clue. Maybe your dear grandfather decided that six months would be enough time for you to make a reputation.” He made a small bow towards her. “I mean no offense, but you seem like the sort of woman that would strike fear into the hearts of men. Given enough time.”

Isabelle smiled. “No offense taken.”

“But that is that, and this is now.” He stood up again. “I would be lying if I said my next question was only in support of my dear friend’s goal to protect you.” He began straightening his wet hair. “And I know my current watery appearance is nothing if not off-putting.” He reached out his hand towards her; putting on the biggest smile he had shown so far. “But I’m afraid your dazzling smile has thoroughly enchanted me. I would love nothing more than to bask in your fine company this special evening. Would you mind me escorting you to your table?”

Isabelle began stammering, “Oh, I-I don’t know if… if…” Her cheeks slowly turned the same shade as her hair. “If you don’t mind…” she said softly as she linked arms with him.

“He’s good,” a raspy voice said besides me.

I merely flinched this time. The same couldn’t be said for the others. They both stumbled backwards in fright. It was only through my quick reaction to grab their clothing that I prevented them from falling down. The demon was loudly snickering as I pulled them both upright. “Finally awake, Gob?”

“You know me, Boss.” He gave me a big toothy smile. “I can practically smell the liquor from here.”

I turned to the more or less flabbergasted people in front of me. “Isabelle, Maximilian. Meet Gob. Gob, meet my new classmates.”

“Pleasure meeting you, fellows,” Gob said.

“No no no, the pleasure is all mine,” Maximilian said as he stepped closer to inspect him. “A most fascinating demon, Marcus. Where did you find an imp this big?”

Isabelle slightly pulled on Maximilian’s clothing. “Can we do this inside? I don’t like the way people are staring at us.” Indeed she was right. Almost everyone that streamed towards the Academy’s entrance slowed down to watch our figures. Then again, a demon, a spiked woman, a drenched noble, and a former rat, must have made for quite the interesting spectacle.

“Your right, my dear,” Maximilian said. He held out his arm towards Isabelle. “Shall we?”

She silently looped her arm around his, though not fully. The spikes on her arms were visibly getting in the way for that. Aren’t we the gallant nobleman? I couldn’t help, but voice my petty frustration as we made our way to the entrance. “For someone who despises nobles and their manners, you sure like to act and talk like one.”

“Marcus, my friend. You misunderstand me. I hate people that pretend to be a gentleman, but I have nothing against those that actually conduct themselves appropriately. Just act and remain true to yourself, and we’ll get along just fine.”

My follow-up lingered in my throat as we entered the main hall. It was as excessively decorated as the rest of this school, if not more. Paintings, statues, two alternating sets of marble stairways on the side, both leading to the higher levels, not to mention a host of other outrageously expensive stuff filling this suffocating place. If I looked left, and right, I could see the hallways stretch into the distance. Their interior as seemingly well-decorated as the main hall.

We continued walking forward towards a large engrave wooden door that stood open between a twin marble staircase. Through it we could see the ceremonial hall where this evening’s grand acceptance feast was being held. They call it a banq-, something something. Doesn’t matter. At the very back end was an heightened platform of black marble whereupon ornately carved, marble seats and thoroughly padded, marble chairs stood. The wall behind them contained numerous alcoves wherein regal statues stood in a series of striking poses. This, combined with the fact that the marble tables were the ones most lavishly filled, left little doubt to who would sit there. In front of the platform was an empty gap followed by three long horizontal tables of dark wood. A veritable feast of food and drinks lay upon them as most of our fellow first year Warlocks were seated one the long benches that flanked them. The rest of the hall was was occupied by even smaller horizontally laid tables, another gap between them and the vertical ones, these were for the Shapers that outnumbered the Warlocks ten-to-one.

A large crowd of tough looking people were stationed near the ceremonial hall’s entrance. Our escorts split off towards them as we walked through the door. We made our way through the Shaper’s feasting area. It was quite comical to see all the normal human servants scurry along. Normally we were the ones that stood out with our tall sizes, but this time they were the ones that drew attention in this forest of human giants. A Warlock was a good head taller than his average human counterpart, though that wasn’t all. He was on average twice as strong, twice as fast, grew twice as old, and aged a lot slower. Combine this with the fact that his demonic blood allowed him to summon demons, receive Gifts and Decrees, and gave him at least two guaranteed affinities, and you ended up with someone practically worshiped by those that didn’t knew better. Shapers were merely those that had thinner demonic blood, and thus received a smaller amount of its benefits. The main problem was that they were never able to manifest their demon more than a couple of minutes. So instead, they temporarily fused their bodies with them. That way they could properly manifest their demonic powers for a significant amount of time.

Though in the end, it didn’t matter if one possessed demonic blood. Warlock, or not, if one had the strength and skill to fight, it’s background shouldn’t hinder it’s right to command. At least, that was the way the Burrow taught it. The clear distinction between the tables told me that Cedia had a different thought about this; the fact that the only normal humans were servants was the most discerning part. I’ll bug Maximilian about it. But first we eat. Maximilian had taken a seat near center of the middle table with Isabelle to his left. I promptly sat down to his right as Gob did the same to me. I had a mind for conversation, but the food in front of me was just to delicious to ignore. Gob seemed to have the same thought as we began shuffling it in by the bucket-load. Though I was careful to sip only small amounts of the spicy wine. If I had attempted to drink as much as Gob was guzzling down I would probably be pissing red for the rest of my life. It’s free.Why not take what I can? Not that everybody seemed to agree with me. It wasn’t hard to hear nearby Warlocks whisper among themselves about my supposedly disgraceful eating habits. How I shouldn’t have my demon attend the dinner. Go fuck yourselves. You pretentious pricks. I didn’t like the way Gob kept screwing my plans with his antics, but that doesn’t mean that I’m some ungrateful snob. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. It’s as simple as that.

The great doors to the hall slowly closed. It seemed the ceremony was about to start since all the tables were now fully seated, and the servants were scurrying away through side entrances. Soon after, the doors at the back end opened as twenty something figures took their seats at the black marble tables. All of them were fully hooded and cloaked in black garbs. Their faces obscured by the same wispy darkness that covered the faces of my escorts. What’s with these people, and obscuring faces? Are all Cedian nobles this weird? I gave Maximilian a glance. Probably are. A familiarly shaped figure took its place upon the throne like seat in the middle. The person slowly clapped three times, the sound loudly echoing through the room, each clap quieting people down till there was total silence.

The figure stood up as it announced itself. “Welcome dear students. My name is Adeline Kendall, and I’ll be your headmistress during your stay at our illustrious Royal Academy.” Hushed whispers began forming as people talked about the Archduke of Envy being the one to lead the school. Adeline seemed used to this as she waited for the murmuring to quiet down. “I would like to be the first one to congratulate you all on your admission.” People began to mutter happily. “And especially the large number of Awakened that met our rigorous standards. May you do well in the future, and establish new bloodlines that will last through the ages.” This statement was met with far less enthusiasm as people wore nasty sneers. “I suggest you show some proper respect.” Her words caused the room to darken as icy fear began gripping my heart. People around probably felt the same thing since their displayed anger turned to one of visible fear. “No matter what you think, your neither a Shaper, nor a Warlock, and thus not deserving of the respect given to one of such a station.” She reached her hand forward before a puff of smoke enveloped it. From it she pulled an all too familiar black scroll. “What I have in my hand is called a Contract.” “For what it does, and how you get it. You will learn soon enough.” She thrust a finger at three large tables at the front. “One cannot call themselves a Warlock without one of these.” She then pointed it at the smaller tables in the back. “And one cannot call themselves a Shaper without a proper Pact.” She glared around the room as the deadly silence did most of her work. “I don’t care where you come from, or what you did. All of you will be judged by your rankings, not your heritage.” She let the stillness linger a bit longer. “ANYONE calling themselves a Warlock, or a Shaper before they’ve accomplished this will face severe punishment. You will simply refer to each other by name, or as trainees.” She began listing of fingers. “You will be Bound to hide this truth, and many others. You, and your demons, will be registered and Branded to prevent escape. You will abide by our rules, or suffer the consequences. And the only way you will leave this school intact is as a respected member of our military.” She waited a bit more before saying the last part. “Or a corpse.”

Adeline put away the Contract as the last sentence softly echoed through the halls. “Now that we’ve aired all this dreary stuff, it’s time to introduce you to the various Heads of our Royal Academy,” Adeline said as she made a sweeping gesture towards the people behind her. “But first we must make a toast to your admission.” She rapidly clapped her hands three times. The side entrances flew open as numerous servants began pouring out. Each carried a single tray whereupon stood a golden goblet filled with deep red wine. I was still processing what was just said when a goblet was placed in front of me. For some reason Gob seemed to get one to. It seems my choice was already made for me. There’s no way I can contact the Burrows now. Adeline waited for the servants to exit the hall before hefting the goblet high. “Normally I would be honored to give you the first toast. But today there’s someone among you far more deserving of that.” She looked at me. At least her hood did. “Marcus Ashwood, please rise so everyone can see you.” I grabbed the goblet before forcing my shaky legs to stand straight. I really don’t like the looks that I’m getting. “Marcus here, is the only one deserving to be called a Warlock.” Whispers could be heard around me. “Although he is a rat, he managed to form a Contract at the mere age of sixteen. The youngest living Warlock in Cedian history” Maximilian’s eyes almost popped out with reverence. “And instead of wasting his talent there, he chose to nurture it for the good of Cedia.” She waved her goblet at me. “For this you may honor us with the first toast.”

No sweat, Marcus. You do this everyday… not. The air was suffocating, and my body trembled. The fact that everyone gawked at me like some divine being didn’t help one bit either. Just keep it simple. The best things are simple. I raised the goblet. “To Cedia, and its people! May death reject it!” It remained quiet. They don’t knowing the saying, do they? Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

“May death reject us, indeed!” Adeline shouted. “Not much point in celebrating, if you’re dead, and done for! Cheers!” She hefted the goblet through the shadows veil of her hood. The rest of the hall did the same, drinking deeply from their goblets, and so did I. As I was trying to think up ways to kill myself, I spotted Gob loudly sniffing his drink.

Before I could down the last of the spicy wine, Gob slammed his fist on the table. “WHICH ONE OF YOU TWO LEGGED CUM STAINS SPIKED THIS PERFECTLY GOOD WINE!” Gob shouted as jumped onto the wooden surface. I lurched forwards to stop the commotion, but found my body strangely sluggish. Eh? Gob pointed at Adeline. “I bet it was you, wasn’t it?” It slowly began walking towards her as people slumped onto the floor, remaining perfectly still. Poison. I quickly mustered what strength I had left to jam a finger into my throat. Bile began to rise rapidly as I spewed the content over the table. But it was already too late. My body slumped forwards into the disgorged mess as the last visage was that of Gob crunching his knuckles. Only his voice was still there as darkness claimed my sight, mind registering his final words.

“I’m going to enjoy cutting open that pretty face of yours.”