The heavy grind of shifting rubble echoed through the basement as Rhaene blasted through the final slab of concrete with a devastating left hook. Dust clouded the air, swirling in thick, choking waves, obscuring the faint beams of light that poured in. Arbor took the first step down the staircase, his servos humming softly.

  "Clear," he announced, his voice steady despite the grime now coating his metal frame.

  Rhaene, her jacket now slung over one shoulder, revealing her white tank top underneath, grinned. "Doesn’t matter if it wasn’t. I would’ve bashed their skulls in too!”

  "Your commentary was noted but unnecessary. Rest your fist, concrete and flesh doesn’t usually go together." Arbor replied dryly.

  "Whatever you say, Tinman." She adjusted her sunglasses, though the lenses were now smeared with dust. "Now, what's behind door number one?"

  Together, they descended into the exposed passageway, footsteps echoing off the damp stone. The temperature dropped, and the air grew thick with the stench of decay.

  Rhaene threw her jacket back on and wrinkled her nose. "Smells like a damn barbecue gone wrong."

  "Something died down here," Arbor said grimly.

  "No fucking way. What gave that away?" She flicked a finger at the darkened corridor ahead. "You got a flashlight in that shiny skull of yours?"

  A faint whirr emitted from Arbor’s head, and a bright beam cut through the gloom, revealing a hallway littered with shattered glass, overturned tables, and rusted bloodstains.

  "Definitely a party," Rhaene muttered. “Suuppperrr festive.”

  They moved cautiously. Arbor’s scanners pinged. He stiffened, holding out a metal hand to stop Rhaene.

  "Life signs," he said.

  Rhaene's grin faded. "Think it's survivors?"

  "Possibly."

  They rounded a corner and stopped.

  Bodies.

  Small figures in hospital gowns lay sprawled across the floor, crushed beneath rubble or slumped against the walls. Their skin was pale, limbs twisted. Dust and dried blood coated their frail forms.

  Rhaene's lips curled in disgust. "Kids...?"

  "Looks like they were evacuated too late," Arbor said, his voice low.

  "Or not at all," Rhaene muttered under her breath. Her fists clenched, black veins pulsing faintly along her arms. "I really don’t like the feeling I get from this place, dude."

  Before Arbor could respond, a faint scuttling sound echoed from the far side of the hallway. Not heavy or hulking, something light and quick like pebbles scattering.

  Arbor tensed. Rhaene flipped her revolver out of her holster, aiming at the darkness, one hand holding her revolver resting atop the other

  "Did you hear that?"

  "Yes."

  The sound came again. A soft click-click-scrape.

  Arbor's optic adjusted. "Movement. Slow. Cautious."

  "Great. A polite monster," Rhaene whispered, her smile tight.

  Arbor’s beam swept the darkness with Rhaene’s aim following right along. It caught on a small shape crouched behind a toppled gurney. Not doing a very good job of hiding if that was its goal. But it didn’t seem like it. The thing was just... observing them. Two wide blue eyes reflected the light, unblinking.

  Rhaene lowered her gun a fraction. "The hell?"

  The figure moved with a silent, fluid grace that was utterly alien. One moment it was behind the gurney, the next it was ten feet closer, having darted along the shadow of a broken cabinet. It moved on all fours like an animal, but its body was raised too high off the ground to be something like a devildog or cat.

  “Arbor! Keep a steady light on it!”

  “I assure you that I am attempting to do precisely that.”

  The creature stopped in a patch of Arbor’s light and they got a good look at the creature(?).

  “Is that…”

  Rhaene lowered her revolver all the way down to the ground. She couldn’t shoot that.

  “All biometrics check out. It is.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  In the fluorescent glow of Arbor’s flashlight, the duo could see the outline of a small human boy in a torn hospital gown, blonde hair matted, skin streaked with grime, blue eyes reflecting the light like two little brine pools.

  "Hey... kid?" Rhaene said, her voice losing its edge, becoming wary.

  The boy tilted his head. The movement was swift, birdlike. He made a sound, a soft, inquisitive "Mrrp?"

  Arbor’s optic-lights brightened, fully illuminating him.

  The boy didn’t react. He simply stared, his eyes dilating to the light, huge and impossibly blue. An ink black stain was caked around his mouth and down his chin like he’d tried to drink paint. He looked at them with blank, open curiosity. Then, he took a step forward, a delicate, testing step.

  "Careful," Arbor murmured. "He’s still an unknown variable. Don’t react.”

  "He’s a kid. The unknown variable is what's on his face.” Rhaene muttered back.

  The boy’s gaze fixed on the light from Arbor’s optic. He seemed fascinated, leaning closer. He took another step, then another, his movements silent and precise. He was now close enough to touch. And as much as Rhaene really wanted to pick the little thing up and pinch his cheeks, Arbor’s judgement was unfortunately sound.

  Rhaene held very still. "Okay, you’re a cute little guy, aren’t ya?"

  Slowly, the boy reached out a grimy hand, not toward Rhaene, but toward the beam of light, as if trying to catch it. His fingers passed through the illumination.

  His attempts ending in vain, He turned his attention to Rhaene. He leaned in, sniffing the air near her hand, the one she’d used to punch through concrete. It was bleeding now. He made that soft "Mmm?" sound again.

  “Rhaene” Arbor reminded Rhaene, whose hand had started twitching.

  "Uh, hey there," Rhaene said, forcing a lightness into her tone. "That's just a little boo-boo. Nothing to- ow!"

  Rhaene jerked her hand up and away from the boy. The boy had, with sudden and startling gentleness, grabbed her hand and licked the abrasion on her knuckles.

  The boy flinched backward at her sudden movement, not into a fighting crouch, but into a defensive tuck, pulling his limbs in close and tucking his head in.

  "Sorry, sorry!" Rhaene said, holding her hands up. "You just surprised me, is all.”

  The boy stared from within his defensive curl.

  Arbor didn’t have anything to say. He was still occupied with trying to find what that substance on the boy’s face was.

  Arbor was scanning the room till he found something that, if he had a stomach, would've made it turn. The beam found a ruin of gnawed green flesh, oily black blood, and splintered bone.

  "Rhaene," Arbor said, his tone flat. "The stuff on him. It's blood. Demon blood. And the source… just take a little peek over here"

  Rhaene followed Arbor’s gaze. Her stomach turned. She looked back at the boy, who was now cautiously uncurling, his attention drifting back to the fascinating play of dust in Arbor’s lightbeam.

  "He…,” she pointed at the little boy sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling. “Did that?,” Pointing at the corpse.

  "It unfortunately appears to be the only logical source of sustenance that could have sustained him for this long," Arbor replied.

  “What about the other ki-”

  “Untouched, save for structural damage. So far, this poor fellow is the boy’s only victim.”

  “Fucccckkkk…”

  The boy, oblivious to their horror, sat down. Not like a child would, but in a neat, compact crouch, wrapping his arms around his knees. He began to clean a nearby piece of concrete with slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue, his eyes half-lidded with concentration. The blood on his face didn’t seem to bother him.

  "Okay," Rhaene breathed out, trying to process. "So he's not trying to kill us. He's just... a weird little guy who eats people."

  "He’s only eaten one. You aren’t a dancer if you dance once," Arbor corrected.

  "Hey, kid," Rhaene said, ignoring Arbor’s corrections, kneeling down slowly, keeping her movements non-threatening. Or at least she tried. She wasn’t exactly the best at non-threatening. Being threatening was kinda half her job. "You got a name?"

  The boy paused his cleaning. He looked at her, then up at Arbor, then back at her. He didn't speak.

  "Can you talk?"

  The boy opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he made a low, humming in the back of his throat. It was a vibration more than a sound.

  "Right. Not a talker." Rhaene glanced at Arbor. "Now what? We can't just... leave him."

  "He is a significant anomaly," Arbor stated. "And a witness, of sorts. The contractor may have questions."

  "He's a kid, Arbor. A really, really messed up kid who eats- has eaten a single demon." She looked at the boy, who was now intently watching a mote of dust drift to the floor. There was a terrible, innocent vacancy in his eyes. "We can't leave him here with... this." She gestured at the small bodies.

  The boy, as if sensing a shift in the atmosphere, stood up. He didn't look at the other children. He simply took a few silent steps toward the hallway leading back up, then stopped and looked over his shoulder at them. Not a demand, not an invitation. Just a look. Are you coming?

  It was the most decisive communication he’d offered.

  "He's leaving," Arbor noted.

  "He's following the dust," Rhaene corrected, standing. "Or... he's just done here." She felt a cold knot in her chest. This wasn't as simple as rescuing a survivor. She didn’t like either outcome of this situation.

  "Decision?" Arbor asked, his vocal modulator devoid of inflection.

  Rhaene watched the boy wait, patient and silent as a shadow. He wasn't afraid of them. He wasn't friendly with them. He just seemed vaguely interested in them. He didn’t seem to have many thoughts beyond that. It reminded Rhaene of her sister. And that was all she needed to make the call.

  "We bring him," she said, her voice firm. "He comes with us."

  "Noted," Arbor said. "I will update the mission parameters to include 'escort of non-verbal, possibly hazardous biological specimen.'"

  "Call the kid a 'specimen' again and I'll pop your voicebox in, Tinman."

  The boy, hearing their bickering voices following behind him, began to pad softly down the hallway towards the stairs. He moved with that same quiet, sure-footed grace, occasionally pausing to stare at a piece of debris or crack in the wall.

  They followed, the beam of Arbor’s optic casting the boy’s long, thin shadow ahead of them. A small, silent guide leading them out of the ruins, trailing the scent of blood and carrying a universe of unspoken horror in his placid, blue eyes.

  “We really do need to wipe the blood off his face though.”

  “I was JUST about to say that!”