“So, where should we begin?” Jakob asked.

“Let us start by talking about their senses again. How do they see?” Sauer asked.

“Perhaps they perceive the world through touch?” Gladisch suggested.

“No,” Jakob said. “That wouldn’t make sense. They were able to move between the trees earlier, remember? And they were able to move straight towards us. They’d need more than touch to do that.”

“They have no visible sensory organs, however,” Sauer said.

“What about that… shell?” Schmidt asked. “It makes them immune to our musket shots, but not the cannonballs.”

“They are not immune to musket shots. Only resistant,” Gladisch said, punctuated by a cannon firing.

“Clumps of their shells fall off with each shot, which means they can be damaged by muskets,” Sauer added. “Perhaps… the musket shots merely weaken their shells, something that the cannonballs are more effective at.”

“You know, it still bothers me that we don’t know where they came from. Could they really have come from the disease in Paris?” Schmidt asked.

“Before we continue…” Sauer began, pulling out his journal. “Our questions are as follows: How do they perceive, how do their shells work, and their origin.”

“We should discuss what to call them, real quick,” Jakob said. “We can’t just keep calling them ‘them.’”

“I think ‘monster’ describes them pretty well,” Schmidt said.

“No, Barry, ‘monster’ is a terrible name. If we call them monsters, they seem… unnatural. Giving them a name would make them less scary. They won’t seem like mythical creatures anymore.”

“I agree,” Gladisch said simply.

“Well I have no idea,” Schmidt said. “Sauer got the closest to them. Did you see anything that could be useful for a name? Maybe their shells look like something that we can name them after.”

Sauer paused, then wrote in his journal again. After a moment, he stopped writing.

“Is something wrong?” Gladisch asked.

Sauer shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. “I am sorry, but the more that I think about it, the more those creatures remind me of beans.”

“Beans?” Schmidt asked. “You mean, like the food?”

“Yes. I just thought that it was funny, connecting the two so suddenly. The thought, juxtaposed with the danger that—”

“What kind of beans did they look like?”

“They were a darker red color that I have not seen before, though their shape was reminiscent of dried field beans, I am certain of that. Their bodies seemed to be segmented into small bean-shaped clumps, with lines of white fluid between them. I was not sure what to make of it at first, but perhaps—”

“Wait,” Rob said, standing up. “You’re really sayin’ that we should call them beans? Like, that’s your suggestion? For real?”

“Yes,” Sauer replied. “I am suggesting that we call them Beans.”

“That’s probably the dumbest name you could’ve come up with.”

“It doesn’t look like anyone has a better suggestion,” Jakob said.

“Would you rather fight a Bean or a monster?” Gladisch added.

Rob laughed. “Alright, sure. Whatever. Beans it is. But if anyone else hears us callin’ them that, I want to make it clear that Mr. Thomas was the one that came up with the name.”

Sauer laughed as well. Schmidt didn’t realize how tense he was until Rob and Sauer’s laughing eased him a little. “You have my word, I will take full responsibility for coming up with the name Bean,” Sauer said, then wrote something in his journal.

“So, we have a name. What do we talk about now?” Jakob asked.

“I think it would be best to discuss their abilities and weaknesses right now,” Sauer replied.

“From what we saw before, I think they can hear somehow; like Barry said, they moved toward sound. I’m not sure if they can see or not, but assuming they’re blind could put us at a disadvantage,” Jakob said.

“They’re also strong enough to tackle and hold down a soldier, and their bean shell can suffocate a person, as well as protect them from bullets,” Schmidt added.

Sauer scribbled in his journal as they talked. “Do you think there is any significance to them suffocating soldiers?”

“I mean, it’s a good way to kill them,” Schmidt said. “They don’t use any weapons, so that would leave physical attacks as their only offense. Blunt attacks would wound a soldier, but it wouldn’t necessarily kill them, so they finish them off by suffocating them.”

“Their range is limited,” Gladisch added. “We should be able to escape if we keep our distance.”

“We’d need a way to get them away from the gates first, though,” Rob said, a cannon firing behind him.

“We can talk about that in a minute, Rob,” Jakob said.

“Their coordination is significant,” Sauer said. “How are they able to do it? They do not seem to be interacting with each other in any way.”

“Maybe that scream at the beginning of their attack is how they talk,” Jakob said.

“No. It was too short and simple. It was an intimidation tactic,” Gladisch said.

“Well they don’t make any noises,” Rob said. “It’s kinda creepy. Hell, they don’t even make sounds when they’re shot.”

Sauer continued to write. Behind them, the soldiers continued to fire upon the Beans, the banging at the gates continuous. “So how else could they communicate? I have a feeling that—”

Sauer was cut off by the ringing of the chapel’s bell, and a loud, all too familiar voice. Captain Bösch’s shout echoed through the empty stone streets. “ENEMY REINFORCEMENTS ARE ARRIVING FROM THE NORTH AND SOUTH! CONTINUE TO DEFEND THE GATES!”