There was pepper in my brain; a burn, a twist, an itch.

"Nod, get out of my head. That’s your only warning. I'll tear you apart and have a janitor hose this room out."

"Understood sir."

I swiveled my head to look at Nod. He grinned, then turned away, looking into the mirrored sides of the elevator. He adjusted his tie, straightened his bowler.

As he preened, the elevator died. Silent stop as the fluorescent lights ended. No flickering. Blown out like candles.

"Does this happen here often? I can't say as I'm impressed."

"Quiet boy. Show your owner some respect."

He recoiled at that, scraping a bad taste from his tongue. Too bad.

Too many assaults take place through elevator shafts. No cables in mine. Hydraulics. The shafts themselves are under constant guard.

What the hell is going on?

skitter skiver skrich skrich skratch

"Did someone cut the power?"

"Ridiculous. We have our dedicated conduits beneath the building. It's part of our contracts with Morelli and East Fredricksburg. Now be quiet, I hear something."

skriver shiver

SQUEAL

In the steel beside my head, four thick ridges grew. They burrowed down the wall, stopping a foot from the floor.

"Mr. Jorgensen, I take it that doesn't happen here very often either?"

Panting. There was panting. Above me, to the right. Drip drip drip; spittle landing on the elevator roof. Twisting. A soft skitter skratch as the drooling, panting thing moved to a different elevator.

"No. It doesn't. We need to finish our descent. Down there, we stand a decent chance."

"Chance at what?"

"Surviving. Something has broken through my defenses, gotten into the elevator shafts, and is looking for one with filling inside. I suggest we move on before it gets in."

"Any suggestions mon capitan?"

"The access panel in the ceiling. It'll find it soon enough. I boost you up. There's a panel on the roof of this elevator. Crush it, shoot it, whatever seems best to you. As long as it's destroyed, we'll begin a slow descent."

"How's that?"

"Controlled release. It has its own power source. Power dies, we go down. Now get over here so I can boost you up before it comes back."

Nod moved slowly, laying his bowler down in the corner. Could the child move any damned slower?

"Hurry up. It is hungry and it knows we are here. Move."

He stepped to me and lifted a foot. I caught it and pushed him up into the air. He flipped open the latch on the first try and caught hold.

I slipped under him and pushed and he struggled onto the roof.

"Alright. Clear up here."

"Good. Do you see the terminal?"

"Yes."

"Destroy it."

He was pulling his pistol. Trigger rocking, clicking. Three shots into the panel.

We were moving again. Down.

Wait. Panting.

"Nod, get back down here."

"Sir..."

"Get down here now."

There was no muffled thud this time. No hushed squeak or skitter. The elevator jerked as weight slammed down onto the roof, dual dents above my head.

Firing. Four shots.

roo roo roo

A laugh. I've heard that laugh. No.

Ní dhíolann dearmad fiacha. A debt is unpaid, even if forgotten.

Nod screamed. Flesh parting.

tinkle.

shatter.

A bloody pair of glasses lay at my feet.

"Hallo wee man. We have business together."

A single red eye peered down through the hatch.

Teeth. Thick teeth.

Black Shuck.

"We have not taken kindly to your treachery."

No. Impossible.

"No worries wee man, although I can promise you, I give you not twelve minutes, let alone twelve months."

Shredded my sleeves, baring my claws. Not at him. Eye searing my back as I slashed at the door. Out. Must get out.

Landed behind me. Towering over me. Don't look.

I buried my claws in the door and strained.

"I miss my eye."

The doors cracked slightly, barely open.

"Fear Dearg, you of all should know..."

Ní cleas é go ndéantar trí huaire é. It isn't a trick until it is done three times.

I screamed, through rows of teeth and dove through the elevator door. Down. Going down. Digging claws into the wall, slowing my drop. The door below was open.

I swung inside, fell hard. A sack of potatoes. No one plays a trick on a red cap. No one.

I looked up into a hound's face, a single eye. A single hateful loathing eye.

Thump thump.

Heartbeat.

Thump thump.

Black Shuck had no heart.

I blinked and the boy smiled.

The lights went out.

I flipped over Jorgensen's unconscious body and fished through his robes. A simple id card and a remote control. It would have to do.

I stepped into the elevator, picking up my bowler and glasses. I wiped my glasses off on Jorgensen's robes and slipped them back on. Even the scar would fade soon. Just like all dreams do.

I have never killed a man personally. I have destroyed them with my dreams and theirs.

No man kills my dreams. No man holds them hostage.

"Anything he can lead me to, I can find myself. Don't worry gents, I'm coming."