Z was already experiencing the worst day of his life and sadly, it got worse. His hands clawed at the cab's back door handle, jerking it up and down. It was locked. And when the realization hit, it felt like the sharp edge of reality slicing through the already devastating shock.
The cabbie was in on it.
Throughout the drive, Z yelled, longing for his only family. He had lost everything in minutes.
His home. His rather unique collection of Marvel movies. And Amy.
But the cabbie remained mute. Didn't even adjust his mirror on the boy.
He knew more than he let on.
He also knew that the so-called "Chaos Princess" was not dead -- not by that blast, not by those people chasing her. But he kept his lips sealed. Someone like him didn't dare meddle in those affairs.
He had a bargain to keep.
Finally, after he could no longer endure the silence, Z sniffled and asked the driver, 'You stopped me from helping her, and who are you? Did Amy ask you to do this? Where are you taking me?'
The cabbie man slowly opened his mouth like it hurt and said in a stern tone, 'She's not dead.'
'What?'
'I said she's not dead.'
For a second the despair cleared, but only to make room for confusion.
'How do you know that? What do you know about Amy? Why was she being chased?'
'Shut the fuck up and listen. The Shades are after your life being an associate of the Chaos Princess.'
There it is again, Z thought, another weird name.
'Why are you calling her that? Is that supposed to be some kind of title.'
The cabbie exhaled long and tired, 'Shades,' he muttered. 'Mystical beings that came from above. At least that's all I know about them.'
'I'm not in the mood for some stupid fairy tale,' Z growled in frustration.
Outside, the rain began to fall, starting as a gentle drizzle before thickening into a curtain of cold water. Lightning tore across the night sky, illuminating the road ahead in flashes of harsh white. Each flash revealed an empty street, stretching long and empty.
Z sucked his teeth, 'Where are we going?'
'Somewhere safe,' the driver said. 'Just like Amy would've wanted.'
'Who are you?'
'Just a struggling taxi driver and an ordinary man who learnt the existence of Shades.'
'What's all this about Shades?'
'Did she tell you nothing?'
The two of them said nothing for a while, the only sound was their breathing and the steady thumping of rain against the windshield. The cab's interior lights flickered in rhythm with the storm outside.
The driver studied Z through the mirror. In the short time since they had fled the building, the boy had hardened. His eyes no longer had the look of a frightened child. Grief had settled on his shoulders, but he bore it with a strange composure.
And the cabbie noticed something else.
Even though he was scared and smeared with dirt, Z was… striking. A sharp jawline, a quiet presence that would only grow stronger with age and the glasses that hid his eyes.
He wondered — briefly, stupidly — whether his daughter, would've taken interest in someone like him. Assuming she was still alive
It had only been a few minutes since they'd left the apartment on East One Hundred and Fourth, but it felt like an hour. And the strange part?
Z hadn't seen another soul. No pedestrians. No cars. No lights in windows. Nothing.
The city felt dead.
And the only other human presence besides the silent cabbie was the gnawing unease in Z's gut.
At the sight of a human-shaped silhouette looming in the middle of the road, the cabbie slammed the brakes so hard the rear wheels screeched across the wet asphalt. Z pitched forward and smashed face into the back of the passenger headrest.
'Hey! What gives?!' Z complained, rubbing his nose.
'Shit. Shit….SHIT!' the cabbie stammered, voice straining. There was terror in his voice and it made Z uneasy.
Z leaned forward between the seats. In the dim beam of the cab's headlights stood a shape, slouched, arms dangling so long they nearly scraped the ground and it stood at eight feet tall.
'What the hell is that thing?!' Z yelled. 'It's too tall to be human!'
The man didn't answer but continued muttering under his breath. Suddenly, with a violent jerk, he slammed the car into reverse.
'Man-eater, Fuck! She said there wouldn't be any out here, Fuck!!'
'Man-eater?! What the heck is that.'
'Shut up! Shut the fuck up! FUCK!'
They reversed dangerously all the way down the empty street until they screeched to a stop outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
'Get out, NOW!'
'You don't have to tell me twice,' Z said, scrambling out.
The two of them got out of the car and started making up to the museum, when BOOM!
Their car had exploded and in the bright flames a silhouette crouched atop the wreckage, like it had dropped straight out of the sky.
Z was just recovering from the explosion - it had sent him airborne for a couple of seconds. Z stood clutching his ribs, he turned and saw the monster, and it was the ugliest, blackest, tallest abomination he had ever seen. Its skin glistened like oil mixed with tar. Its arms dangled low, ending in claws long enough to slice a car door open.
The monster snarled for a while and then turned in their direction and revealed a set of 7-inch razor sharp teeth.
'Run!' the cabbie shouted.
They burst through the museum, which was for some reason unlocked. They ran into the building not minding the splattered blood on the ground. They ran up to the Greek exhibit and saw museum guards lying all over the rugged floor. Torn limbs, intestines, brain matter and a half-eaten nostril lay on a fallen shield. They were all sprayed around everywhere in a gory mess.
'O my God,' Z breathed, 'what the….'
'Looks like a man-eater's been here already,' the cabbie replied with unease.
Z leaned over and threw up in a corner uncontrollably. Roy moved quickly, grabbing a metal sword off its display and snatching a guard's pistol from the floor. He checked the rounds with professionally.
The front entrance shattered downstairs. The building groaned under the force.
Roy grabbed Z by the shirt.
'Alright kid, we're fucked. And if we don't do something both of us are going to get eaten –literally.'
The monster snarled and growled with rage, echoing through the walls of the empty building. Z felt ice flow down his spine.
'What do we do? We can't stay here forever. That thing will turn us to minced meat before dawn.' Z protested.
'We? I'm going to kill that ugly shit. While you stay and hide.'
'What?! You can't possibly be serious. We can run away and call the cops or something. That thing will slice you to ribbons before you could do anything.'
Roy exhaled heavily—tired, sad.
'No, kid… this is my fate. I've done terrible things. Back then I worked as a cutthroat. I shed innocent blood. I guess bitch karma finally decided to collect.' He gave a dry laugh and pulled a small creased photo from his jacket.
It was a photo of the driver when he was younger, smiling awkwardly, stood beside a stout woman and a teenage girl with bright eyes and dimples.
'I retired. Started a quiet life. Married. Had a kid. Thought I'd left the blood behind.' He stared at the photo for a long second. 'But maybe… maybe my past couldn't run away from me.'
Down the hall, the monster was sniffing. Its claws scraped the marble like chalk on glass.
It was picking up their scent.
'My wife was killed by a man who controls these monsters,' Roy continued. I like to call 'em fiends.'
Z froze. 'Wait, you mean there are MORE of these things?'
'Several,' Roy said, sliding the magazine back into the pistol. 'And still counting.'
'Jesus fucking Christ.'
'Won't save us.' Roy put the photo into Z's hand. His voice softened. 'But my daughter… she's alive. I know she is. Z… my last wish is this: find her. Protect her. She's alone out there. No parents. But if you two meet… you can fight the world together'
'I will… I promise I will.'
'Roy, my name's Roy.'
'I swear, Roy. I'll find her. She'll live.'
'Good.' Roy smiled faintly. 'Now go.'
Z turned toward the giant window. He grabbed a fallen guard's severed lower body and hurled it at the glass.
Cold winter wind knifed into the room.
The monster appeared at the far end of the hall. Its eyes locked on them, wondering how their flesh would taste like
Roy didn't hesitate.
Squeezing two rounds in quick succession, the driver ran towards the monster which was still disoriented from the bullets that had torn off chunks of the monster's head. Of course, the monster didn't go down and to the bewilderment of Z, the monster head had started regenerating. Roy swung low, cleaving off one of the monster's legs.
The creature shrieked so loudly Z's ears rang.
The creature swung its arm, but the cabbie ducked only grazing his cheek. He pivoted, slicing upward. The monster's head rolled across the floor and thudded against a broken statue pedestal.
'Wow,' Z breathed.
Roy turned. 'You're still here?'
'Damn, you can move like that? You looked stiff, but damn, that was easier than I expected.'
'I appreciate the compliment,' Roy said, panting.
The monster's body twitched. The severed head began regrowing. The leg bubbled with fresh muscle.
'C'mon, let's get out of this hell-hole,' Z said.
'Sure, I've had my –'
The monster rose—faster than before. Its claws plunged straight through Roy's stomach.
'ROY!' Z screamed.
Roy slashed quickly, severing the arm and stepping backwards. Blood poured through his fingers as he pressed his jacket against the gaping wound.
'Argh… damn. I messed up…' Roy grunted. 'Get going, kid!'
Z choked, tears blurring his vision, and leapt out the window.
Checking to see if Z had gone, Roy backed up releasing three rounds at the creature.
Roy fired three more rounds. Each bullet slammed into the creature—heart, brain, windpipe.
The fiend collapsed at his feet, finally still.
Roy staggered and dragged himself to a nearby wall and slumped to the floor. Cold crept over him like frost and he was becoming light-headed.
Meanwhile, Z was outside cursing at himself and everything for ruining his life in a matter of moments. As he ran, he began to recount all the bad things that had happened in the short while it had. The weird laptop pictures, Amy's permeating ability, the forceful lighting, the weird monster that refused to die and then he thought about himself a weird boy with a very disturbing ocular condition known to only himself.
As he ran, he began to think of Amy. He hated himself for running away like a coward. He ran away and now Amy was probably dead, and now Roy too.
Z froze when the coarse voice echoed inside his skull.
'Run to the aspen tree over by that hill.'
His heart skipped. He spun around, expecting to see someone standing behind him. But there was no one. Only the drizzle, the cold and the terror of the museum behind him.
'Who's there?' Z called.
The voice responded calmly, as if amused by his panic.
'No one necessary. I'm inside your consciousness, Z. I believe we've met before… except now you can speak.'
The dream. The weird shapeless figure in the morning haze.
'You're the one from my dream, aren't you?' he said, his voice cracking. 'What happened to Amy? Tell me!'
'So persistent. She's unhurt. But I won't be able to say the same for you if you don't get to that aspen tree.'
'Why? What's there?'
'Nothing. But Man-eaters can't scent evergreen trees.'
'Man-eaters….How do you know about that?' he muttered.
'I see everything. I know everything. Which is why I know that going to that tree is the best way to keep you alive.
Z paused—not from the rain, but from guilt. Images of the Greek section flashed inside him like burning photographs. The torn limbs. The red-soaked floors. And Roy who stayed behind to protect him.
'No,' Z muttered, wiping rain and tears off his cheeks. 'I'm going back. I need to help Roy. I'm not running away anymore.'
The voice flared with irritation.
'You fool. Roy's death would be in vain. You don't even know who you are.'
'Then tell me!' Z screamed. 'Someone tell me what's going on! Please!'
'When you see me — literally — then we can talk.'
'You mean like in a dream?'
'Not necessarily.'
'Then what are you? Are you me? Like some abstract version of me?'
'We are in no way related. Also, I am what you know as female.'
'You sure have a good method of avoiding my questions.'
'Good luck Z.'
The voice vanished instantly.
The world went silent again except for the storm.
Z swallowed hard. Then he ran toward the museum.
Unbeknownst to him, a tall man with a black furry hat stepped out of the shadows on the museum's south side, his eyes narrowing as if searching for something only he could sense.
He scrambled through the shattered window he had jumped out from earlier. Broken glass bit into his palms. The cold marble floor chilled his knees. He ignored everything. Nothing mattered but Roy.
He sprinted toward the Greek section, his footsteps echoing against the stone hallways.
And then he reached it. And froze. The Man-eater was still alive. And far bigger. Its skin stretched with new muscle. Its bones cracked as they reformed. Black steam poured from its wounds. Its canine-like growls didn't encourage his motives.
Roy lay slumped against the wall where Z had left him — except now he wasn't breathing. His chest rose in only small, faint spasms.
'Roy!' he whispered, rushing to him. 'Roy, c'mon we gotta go. That thing's still not dead.'
Roy stirred. Barely. His eyes fluttered halfway open.
'You fool…' Roy groaned weakly. 'Why didn't you leave… when you had the chance…' He coughed wetly. 'Now both of us are gonna die like invalids.'
'I'm sorry,' Z said, voice breaking. 'But we can make it--'
He didn't finish.
The monster exploded into motion. The next second it was bearing down on Roy.
It tackled him with bone-crushing force and in a single horrifying sweep of its claws, it ripped out Roy's guts.
Blood sprayed across the marble floor. Roy's body jerked once, then fell limp. His head slumped forward, eyes open, empty.
Z froze. Everything inside him iced over.
'R—Roy…?' he breathed.
The monster devoured him.
Z couldn't scream. He could barely breathe. He stumbled backward, fell onto his hands, and scrambled away on the floor like a terrified animal. He pressed his hand over his mouth. But it was too late.
It spun toward him, its steaming jaws dripping pieces of Roy and its eyes locked onto Z with pure hatred and hunger.
Hot tears mixed with the rainwater on his face. The monster walked toward him, claws scraping grooves into the floor.
Then Z watched in terror as the beast raised its arm and swung towards him.
At first, he saw a silver flash, then the monster's head fell to the ground with a thud.
Standing behind the collapsing body was a man dressed in simple black attire. A dark waistcoat sat neatly over a black cotton, long-sleeve buttoned shirt. His polished shoes caught the moonlight, gleaming faintly. A furry-brimmed hat rested low on his forehead, casting a shadow that masked his eyes. But none of that was what shocked Z.
It was the wings.
Two massive, black wings sprouted from the man's back. They were real, heavy, beautiful.
Z stared at the severed head, already beginning to vaporize. The body followed, dissolving into drifting ash. His gaze drifted back to the man, but words refused to form. His throat was locked in terror.
The stranger approached, boots tapping softly against stone. When he spoke, his voice was grainy.
'Who are you? And why do you have the Holy Grail? I can sense it in you. Who do you work for?'
Z was totally lost as he had never heard of a "Holy Grail" and he definitely didn't work for anyone. Fortunately, he didn't need to answer. He fainted.