The air was frigid. Nighttime always was on the fifth floor. During the day it was comfortable to the point of being warm, but right now Peter could barely feel his fingers for lack of warmth. He looked at the two skulls that floated behind him then sent one down to the estate below. It was a rocky fort, surrounded by sheets of cloud cover. They were too high up to see any details in the citadel, but there were lights in the windows. Each one was flickering like a star in the sky against their hard, grey stone backdrop. Peter thought it was pretty, but knew a few lights would be going out tonight.

He had followed the scent to this town, like always it was just ahead of him. Just out of reach. Beyond the next hill and past the next floor lay his target. It was infuriating sometimes, but then Peter would remind himself that the prize was so sweet. Injecting mana into a skull, Peter sent the older, more decrepit of the skulls down to fly around the area. He needed to find his third skull before he was ready to find his target, it was the only thing that stopped his skeletal array from being complete. One more skull, one more life, one more aspect to fill in the gaps.

The skull came back five minutes later. The moment it returned it began projecting a map on the floor showing the entire area of the citadel. The main building had one entry-way and one staff exit, a simple bottleneck that Peter could stopper. The defenses itself would in no way defend from a child. The walls were built to deal with giant flesh eating birds, not children. The architect had added several sets of equidistant spikes into the walls and buttresses to defend against the multitudinous monstrosities that populated the floor. The fort was one built as if on a wilderness frontier rather than on a country border and the defenses were telling.

Peter split his mouth into a greasy grin at the thought of his gains tonight. Perhaps he would find a subject who could be his third piece, or perhaps he would find a clue to his target. He had no idea, or way of knowing. He scampered down the side of the hill, making sure if his every step before taking it. If not for Chester then his journey down the hill would have been much more precarious. The skull projected what was below and around Peter as a three dimensional image beside him, allowing him to quickly move without encountering any trouble.

Once he reached the bottom of the cliff he began moving quietly towards the side wall. While dealing with the fort would be no problem, Peter still needed to make sure there were no escapees. He ran through the low clouds, using the older skull, Chester, to navigate for him and made good time. For his plan to work he needed everyone in the citadel to be in as close proximity to each other as possible. Casing the building had taken days, to make sure that everything was planned down to the last moment, but because of that Peter was on a tight schedule.

Getting to the wall, he began clambering up the spiked ladder he had been gifted with. Each step made him more and more sure of the success of the plan. It would not be too long before he had finished preparing everything, but now he had to put things in motion. He swung over the top, sliding between the spiked ramparts and onto the inside of the citadel. Taking a quick look around there were no guards nearby, but near one of the guard towers that were situated on the corners of the building stood a couple of men, guardsmen looking out for any giant beasts.

Peter stole up to one of the guardsmen and in his most innocent voice he said “Sirs, can you help me with something?”

They turned and looked at the young boy standing beneath them. Peter looked up at the two men, trying to give them his most innocent smile. “Kid, you’re not from round here. How did you get here?” Said one man. He was a blond, with a strong chin. A good potential base, but his strength was less than Peter would have liked. The other man was stronger, but Peter found the shape of his skull repulsive, so he could only relegate them to one thing, reinforcing his mana reservoir.

“Sirs, I really need you to give me your souls!” He said, chipper and happy about the whole situation. A shadow seemed to rise around the boy as he took in a deep breath. It flickered and danced as the two grown men began to falter at the sensation of their very essence torn from their body. The blond man tried to scream, but no sound would come out. He tried to move away but he was stuck still. The only thing he could feel was an encroaching cold and a sense of tearing. Before his body collapsed on the floor, empty of any living essence all he could think was how happy the young boy looked while they died.

Both men died as silently as two collapsing bodies could be, serving only to fuel Peter’s increasingly deep mana reservoir and empty stomach. Pushing the two empty husks over the side of the wall, he began to run towards the next guard tower. Reaching the next pair of guards he began yelling to them. He artfully forced tears to streak down his face as he shouted out, “Sirs, sirs! something has happened to the other guardsmen!” He slowed down, panting heavily, fear flashing across his face. “I was just asking them something when a huge lizard climbed up the walls and snatched them.” At the sound of Peter’s story the two guardsmen began moving towards the other men, but soon they were corpses pitched over the wall as well.

Peter continued round the wall until there were no guards left defending the building. He had finished his starter, so it was time to move on to the full meal. Moving towards the servants entrance of the fort he quietly closed the door, momentarily swearing about the fact that he could have just blocked the door with the bodyweight of the corpses. Instead he made an incision on his wrist and drew a stylised eye in his blood on the body of the door. It was a mark that had been used by the Mephisto family for generations that he had come to rely on in the recent past.

With the back door sealed Peter moved around to the front entrance of the stone building. He raised his hood, trying to look as imposing as possible in his black cloak and robes. The two skulls perched on Peter’s shoulders like little angels of death, ready to pounce if something went wrong, but the boy thought it unlikely that anything would. There would be no escaping now.

He kicked open the massive door that led into the main hall of the fort, shocking the crowd assembled at the table that was just being cleared for the next part of their meal. They saw a small figure coming out of the billowing smog that was everywhere at this time of night. Like a grim reaper he stood at their doorway, face obscured, with those skulls floating behind him. What Peter saw was a lot simpler. He saw dinner.

He licked his lips and rubbed his clammy hands together. This would be his largest haul yet, but with every soul he absorbed his «Stolen Life Formation» would improve his mana quicker than anything else he could do. Barely holding back his glee Peter said, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen! I’m glad you seem to be enjoying your meal, because it is going to be your last.”

“What?” Said the large man at the head of the table. He was a big man, with a nice skull shape. He fit with the other two skulls Peter had picked up in his journey so far, so much so that Peter was having trouble resisting just completing the array then and there. The man put down his knife and skewer, then stood up. The only sound that could be heard as he stood was the scrape of his chair against the stone floor, even the dogs around the table were silent. A shadow swept down the hall as the leader of this group of people reached his peak height. He was a very tall man. “What did you say, stranger?” He boomed.

Peter walked into the room proper, slamming the door behind him. He jumped onto the table and began moving down its center. Kicking away any plates of food that got in his way, the only sounds were the clangs of the metal plates hitting the floor and the slap of the meat strewn across the ground. Finally after what felt like an eternity, Peter opened his mouth once more. “Was I not clear? I meant you are going to die now. I hope you enjoyed your last few moments alive.”

With that the boy drew another massive breath, and the people around him began dying. Within moments heads began smashing against the floor or tables near them, and through all this the large man could do nothing but watch. He screamed at the sight of his family and friends being culled like farm animals, but there was nothing he could do, he was too late. Peter licked his lips once more, looking at the tall man before diving straight towards him.

He slammed into the man, at the abdomen and throat like he had practiced so many times before, tearing out his mana reservoir and his head off. It was a sharp motion, seemingly impossible for a child, but Peter had done it.

After the short display of death all that was left was a young boy, standing in the middle of a room full of corpses, covered in gobbets of muscle and fat, while holding a severed head with a full spine trailing below it. It was nearly time to finish the array. Before he could do that, however, he quickly walked through the building, making sure to collect the souls of anyone he had not managed to get in his first breath. Finally he saw a young girl, a maid of some sort, near the exit that he had sealed with the family mark. She was sat on the floor, her body shaking with fear and smelling of urine. Peter mused that her mind had been broken by the fear effects of the family mark.

“Thanks for the meal.” He said to no one in particular, before taking a deep breath.