It had started raining by the time I made it to the track. The miserable drizzle reduced visibility without having the decency of being a proper downpour. My chainmail and shirt did little to help and I was quickly soaked.

I unlocked the door to the receptionist booth with the keys I had stolen earlier. Had it really been just this morning? The booth was empty and dry inside, the ticketing windows shuttered against the rain.

I put the keys away and opened the interior door. The room was dark, but there was light coming up from the stairway. I clutched my relic, ready to go invisible at the first sign of trouble. Where were the guards? No way the milladen would leave their lair undefended.

I crept down the stairs, cursing the rain as water from my clothes dripped onto the stone. Luckily the rain hitting the roof above was louder than any noise I made.

I heard a snakelike hiss and hurriedly whispered ‘Piran.’ The milladen popped around a blind corner, fangs out and arms raised, like a teenager trying to scare his friends. Looking straight at me, the monster slowly lowered its arms and sniffed the air. It looked up and down the stairway before huffing in disappointment.

I slowly let out a breath as it climbed back into a cutout in the wall. I went down a few more steps and saw that the cutout was more than just a shallow alcove. A narrow channel the size of a doorway had been cut into the stone about six feet deep. In the channel two more milladen stood, glazed eyes watching the staircase. The first milladen joined them, and they formed a line, not conversing or even acknowledging each other's presence.

Could I grab one of these to interrogate about the killer’s safehouse? I would have to fight off the other two, but it would be a lot easier than trying to capture one further in and drag it all the way up countless stairs.

A ragged breath behind me made me spin around. Another three milladen stood in an identical cutout at the opposite side of the staircase. So make that six milladen. I studied the creatures, two female and four male.

How could I have ever been fooled into thinking these monsters were human? They stood expressionless, with dull eyes and rigid muscles. Every few seconds, one would gasp spasmodically, as if remembering it needed to breath.

The cloth merchant and receptionist had seemed more alive, more all there, even after dropping their human persona. Maybe some more milladen were more intelligent than others? What if I kidnapped one of these guards only to realize that it was just a drone that didn’t have the information I needed?

Realizing that I was wasting my limited invisibility, I hurried down the stairway. I would grab one of the guards on my way back if I didn’t find a better candidate. Once I was away from the guard post, I dropped the necklace, canceling my invisibility. There might be more guards further in, but I would need the relic for a lot more tonight and wanted to save every minute of power I could.

The staircase opened into a wide room. Thankfully the area was abandoned. Oil lanterns lit the walls, instead of the usual gas, and a trough ran through the center of the room.

The trough was a few feet wide and lined with machined steel plates riveted together. It sloped from left to right, so that it was almost flush with the floor at the left wall and three feet deep at the other end. The trough was capped on both sides with small metal doors.

Curious, I followed the trough left to where a heavy wooden door was set into the wall. I listened and, hearing nothing, tried the door. Locked. So the milladen can't be just a hive mind. The only reason to lock a door this far into their lair would be if not every member could be trusted. The receptionist’s keys opened the door and I went in.

The scent of salt and dried meat made my eyes water. I considered that a win, considering the literal tons of flesh crammed into the cavernous room. Better the smell of salt than rotting meat. I walked along the narrow pathway with mixed awe and horror.

Huge pig carcasas lined one wall. A pile of corpses, human, goat, dog, sheep, cat, and even desiccated zombie flesh, dominated the back of the room. Chickens hung from their necks on laundry lines. And everywhere were barrels and barrels of salt. The white crystal liberally coated every exposed surface.

Back where I started was the only cleared area. A bulky metal table covered in butcher’s tools stood next to a huge chute. A fat pipe hanging over the chute slowly dripped water.

Realizing that I was again wasting time, I hurried back to the previous room. I felt no need to explore the other end of the trough, so I went to the last exit, the doorway directly across from the stairs.

The doorway led to a long corridor studded with rooms. There were no doors, so I glanced in each one as I passed. About half were filled with supplies —oil, rope, weapons, et cetera— while the other held piles of bodies. Were these corpses not food?

It was only after passing the third of these rooms that I realized my mistake. The piles of bodies were still breathing. It seemed the milladen were not picky about sleeping arrangements. I shuddered and moved on. Trying to grab one of these would be even worse than the guards. Each pile had around a dozen creatures.

I slowed when I heard voices. The chant wasn’t any language I recognized, but it at least sounded like it came from human vocal cords. I peeked into a room lit by dozens of lamps.

This room was bigger even than the meat storage. A huge mural filled the back wall. It was more of a pattern than an image, a flowing mix of curved lines and fractal patterns. The bright greens and purples swirled together with spots of orange. The whole pattern seemed to sway in the flickering lantern-light, giving the impression of spinning rows of teeth.

I tore my eyes away from the mural as the chanting grew louder. A tall woman on a dias held up a wriggling mass the size of a bowling ball. Thin black tendrils wrapped around her arms and groped for her face, but she held it unflinching.

Under her, strapped to an alter, a man in his thirties squirmed against his bindings. I watched in fascinated horror as another milladen took off the man’s gag. He screamed and begged, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

The chanting hit a crescendo, and the woman shoved the black mass into the man’s open mouth. His screams cut off abruptly as the mass eagerly squirmed down his throat. It lodged there, projecting grotesquely like a bulbus cancer.

I staggered away before I lost my lunch. I realized belatedly that I probably should have helped the poor man, but there were dozens of chanting monsters in the room. Even if I had another rage potion, and was willing to use it, I doubt I could have fought that many.

I moved on down the hallway. I needed to find a monster to kidnap and get out of here before that happened to me.

Luckily, in the next room, I found something new. It was some sort of jail, with cages and manacle covered walls. Undoubtedly the former home of the milladen’s human prisoner. There were no people here anymore, but there was a figure chained up on one wall.

The man’s lower jaw, throat, and sternum were all missing, showing raw and oozing meat underneath, but the chest still rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Air whistled into the lungs from a gaping hole. Connected to the body were thin tentacles that pulsed like a heartbeat. I followed the tentacles to a formless mass a few feet away, staked on a butcher’s hook.

It hung from the hook like a carcase, but gave a lethargic squirm every few seconds. Disgusted, I considered cutting the tentacles connecting the parasite to its host. But I had come here to kidnap a milladen, and this was the first one I found that wasn’t surrounded by others.

I used the false edge of my sword to slide the black mass off the butcher’s hook. My stomach churned as it hit the floor with a wet plop and released a foul stench. My nausea only got worse as the mass, free from its confinement, slowly squirmed over to the chained up body. It crawled up the legs and molded itself against the missing throat.

As the jaw slowly reformed, I finally recognized the face of the milladen receptionist. Fitting that it would be him. His eyes fluttered open and started to focus.

“Wha—” was all he weakly managed before I was dumping a viscous liquid down his newly reformed throat. He choked and half of it sloshed down his chest, but that was fine. I knew first hand that the numbing potion could be absorbed through the skin.

Careful not to get any of the chemical on myself, I backed away and watched the receptionist. He gaped like a fish a few times before slumping into unconsciousness. Excellent. Now, to get him free of the manacles. I chopped lightly at his wrists, not wanting to make noise by hitting the stone.

On the third tap, the vorpal enchantment engaged and neatly severed both hands. The stumps slid free and the monster flopped bonelessly to the dirty floor. I noticed with interest that the severed hands bled for a moment, then scabbed over and started wiggling back to the arm stumps. Even unconscious, the monster’s regenerative properties were astounding. The other milladen hadn't seemed nearly as resilient. Was the receptionist stronger than the milladen that attacked the Bitter Flagon, or was this a side effect of his imprisoned state?

Either way, I waited for the hands to fully reattach themselves. No reason to leave any clues behind. Careful to make sure all of the numbing agent was wiped off, I hoisted the receptionist into a fireman's carry. Time to go. I wasn’t sure how long the sedative would last, but I sure as hell didn’t want the creature on my back when it woke up.

I left the jail room feeling pretty good about myself. That feeling lasted right up until I almost crashed into the tall female milladen coming from the ritual chamber. She jerked away in surprise and let out a feline hiss.

Fumbling with my cumbersome burden, I dragged out my necklace. She lunged at me, rows of teeth clicking and grinding together. I jumped back, almost overbalanced from the receptionist’s weight, and yelled ‘Piran.’ The female stopped, surprised by my sudden disappearance. Using the opportunity to its fullest, I dodge past her and sprinted down the hallway.

Good thing the necklace blocked all senses, because I was gasping like a drowned man. My heart pounded from the flood of adrenaline.

Behind me, the female shouted in her harsh chanting language. I put on more speed as milladen started groggily exiting their sleeping chambers. I weaved through the crawling and shuffling monsters, putting the rooms past me before they could clog the hallway with sheer numbers.

My legs burned at the incline, but I felt good about my speed. My physical stats were high enough that even overburdened I could move quickly. I jumped over the trough and nearly pitched over from the awkward weight. My captive wasn’t even that big, I just wasn’t used to being so top-heavy.

I hit the staircase two at a time, angry voices hot on my heels. A few of the stair guards were cautiously making their way down towards me. As I got close, I pushed one of their feet. She missed a step and fell headfirst down the stairway. With no railings or landings to check her speed she quickly picked up momentum. The crunch of impact could be heard even over the rising voices.

I shot the gap and continued up the stone steps. The guards could have easily closed to stop me, but without any way of sensing where I was, they didn't know to try. They continued down to see what all the fuss was about, while I headed up to freedom.

I was panting from more than just adrenaline by the time I reached the top of the stairs. High constitution or not, running up steps with a monster slung over your shoulders will take it out of you. Not that I could stop. I was going to run until I was safe and sound back at the church.

I dropped the necklace, fumbled the door open and jogged into the night. One nice thing about the rain, it reduced the chance of people asking about a church inquisitor running through the streets carrying a naked man.