Chapter 42.3: Intent to Kill

  The taxi, which had been cruising smoothly through city traffic, suddenly lurched into a crawl. Ace shifted in his seat and chewed on his lip as he regarded the never-ending stretch of blinking brake lights.

  Ace leaned forward. “Why are we stopping?”

  The driver squinted his eyes and clicked his tongue. “There’s a jam. An accident, maybe?” His voice dropped. “But look at all those ambulances…”

  Ace pressed his face to the window. The hospital loomed about three blocks ahead. Emergency vehicles lined the street, but their lights were off.

  And there, barely visible, something shimmered in the air around the building.

  Ace’s hand shot into this pocket, yanking out a ten-thousand-yen bill. “Drop me off here!” He threw open the door, nearly tripping over his own foot. “Keep the change!”

  “Wait!”

  But Ace was already running, boots pounding against the asphalt. He threaded between stalled cars. The hospital grew larger with each stride, so did the breaths he inhaled.

  Ace’s heart leapt to his throat as he saw the geometric patterns of a barrier, its edges crystallising into visibility as he charged forward.

  The barrier pulsed.

  A wave of pressure rolled outward. Ace’s jacket snapped like a flag in a gale. The barrier! It’s expanding?!

  Ace’s arm jerked backwards violently, nearly dislocating his shoulder. An invisible force clamped around his wrist like an iron shackle, dragging him away from the hospital. His feet skidded across the pavement, leaving black rubber streaks. “A confinement barrier?!”

  No Cursed Essence in or out. That was the barrier’s rule.

  Ace twisted, planting his boots against the invisible dome. His thighs screamed in protest. He was bent nearly in half, his body suspended between forward momentum and backward force. Planting his feet on the ground as firmly as he could, Ace clenched his fist. Blue flooded the runes on his armour, and the barrier’s grip broke.

  “Nyehwoah!” Ace windmilled his arms, nearly tumbling back. His feet caught the ground just in time to keep him from sprawling.

  A scream split the air before Ace could catch his breath. Dozens followed, erupting all around him.

  Drivers abandoned vehicles without second thought, and passers-by scattered like startled birds. Ace quickly picked out the culprits: corpses.

  They poured from the hospital's entrance in a grotesque tide. Some wore patient gowns, but most were naked. All of them moved with that same jerky, unnatural gait – limbs bending at wrong angles, heads lolling on necks held together by glistening black thread. The barrier rippled as they slammed against it.

  A shriek from a paramedic still in the confines of the barrier caught Ace’s attention. The paramedic fell hard onto the pavement as a corpse, an elderly man with smooth, muscular legs sewn onto his torso, fell upon him.

  “Vision Multiplicity: Lutrinae!”

  Ace slammed his palms together, channelling power into the pavement beneath his feet. Essence erupted upward in a geyser, coalescing into solid forms. Otters – sleek, muscular, semi-transparent blue – manifested in a romp of thirty. They surged forward like a living wave.

  Ace leapt onto them, and they carried him forward, surfing across the chaos. He extended his staff mid-flight with a satisfying click-click-click. Swinging wide, he caught the corpse across the skull. The impact vibrated up his arms. It was like hitting a stone wrapped in leather. The corpse launched sideways, tumbling across the pavement in a tangle of limbs and thread.

  He landed beside the paramedic, already hauling the man to his feet. "Get somewhere safe!"

  The paramedic bolted without a word, not even a backward glance.

  The corpse that was flung away lay still for a second.

  Then every single corpse in the vicinity, even those clawing at the barrier, snapped toward Ace. He could feel dead eyes boring into him.

  “Wah, shit,” Ace swore.

  A teenage boy with acne scars and threads lacing his neck like a grotesque necklace. An elderly woman whose arm dangled from a thread, swinging with each lurching step. Ace could not bring himself to look at the corpses too closely.

  They had been alive. They had names. They had dreams.

  Now, they were this.

  The smell hit Ace next. Copper, rot and something chemical burned the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, forcing down his lunch.

  They were people. Faust mutilated them and–

  Ace shook his head. Snap out of it, Ace! They are not humans anymore! Ensure the safety of the public first!

  A child corpse lunged at Ace, and his staff froze mid-swing. Oliver?! His mind screamed initially. But the corpse had black hair, not blonde.

  The hesitation cost him.

  Small hands with purple fingernails raked across Ace’s bare forearm. Pain lanced up to his elbow. He twisted away, gasping, and slammed his staff down on the corpse on pure instinct. The corpse’s skull split open, but Ace’s hands shook so badly that he nearly dropped his staff.

  I can't. I can't do this alone!

  “Vision Multiplicity!” Ace’s voice cracked on his words. He clasped his hands in the shadow sign for a bird – thumbs and fingers spread like wings – and thrust them toward the sun. The shadow stretched long and dark across the blood-slicked pavement. “Skye!”

  The shadow ignited a blue, and a convocation of Steller’s sea eagles manifested. Their wingspans stretched eight feet across, white heads gleaming like polished bone, curved beaks sharp as scimitars. Ace pointed his staff toward the hospital. “Bring them in!”

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  The eagles dove like fighter jets. Their curved talons sank into dead flesh. The corpses’ legs kicked uselessly, their threads stretching as they sought ground. Rotted limbs tore away, falling like rain as some threads snapped.

  Ace sprinted toward the hospital entrance, staff raised high. "Dump them! Further into the barrier!"

  The eagles wheeled in perfect formation and released their cargo. The glass doors to the hospital shattered, shards raining down like daggers and tinkling as they hit the floor. Corpses tumbled across the lobby, limbs tangling, threads snapping.

  Before Ace could even heave a sigh of relief, a high-pitched chirp pierced through the noise.

  Every corpse inside the hospital exploded in a shower of diced flesh and old, congealed blood. Black and red sparks floated in the air, just like dust bunnies. The threads entwined in the corpses’ flesh still twitched, trying desperately to reconnect with one another. For some reason, Ace stood there, studying the flailing threads with morbid curiosity.

  “Ace!”

  The world lurched.

  The ceiling swapped places with the ground. Ace’s inner ear screamed as reality twisted inside-out, then snapped back into place with the elastic finality of a rubber band. His boots hit the ground with a thud. Strong fingers gripped his shoulder, steadying him roughly before letting go. The world spun lazily, his soul still three seconds behind his body.

  They were above the ground floor. A gaping hole yawned in the floor where they had presumably warped through. Jagged edges of broken tile and twisted rebar jutted out like teeth. Ace looked down. Through the hole, he could see straight through to the ground-floor lobby. Where he had been standing mere moments ago, corpses now swam in a writhing mass. Gone were his eagles, as they had dissipated during the warp. “Ace!” Dante’s voice cut through the disorientation.

  Ace met Dante’s eyes. It was easier than usual. One of Dante’s eyes had been softened by the red-tinted monocle that turned its usual sharp green to a muted hazel. The other eye, fully exposed, burned with barely contained frustration for a moment before becoming distant. “Why are you here?!” Dante demanded.

  Ace’s mind snapped back, alert. “I–I just wanted to tell you that I got evidence!” he blurted. “I–”

  Dante shushed him, pulling him back from the hole. At the corner of Ace’s eye, he spotted Faust sprinting across the lobby. As he did, he ran his hands across the corpses. The corpses pressed together, merging. Arms sank into torsos. Legs fused with necks. Heads melted into shoulders. Thread wove through it all, stitching the nightmare together.

  Faust slipped away once more.

  “As you were saying?” Dante raised a brow, his tone slightly acidic.

  Ace’s throat dried up. He shut his mouth and shook his head.

  The mass of corpses pulled together faster now, flesh flowing like putty, bones cracking and reforming. It rose, pushing past the ceiling right above it. The head was too large, with features that were smeared and indistinct. Multiple mouths gaped across its surface, each one screaming silently. “Stay put,” Dante commanded.

  Dante exploded forward in a burst of speed that left afterimages. His sword sang as he plunged it down, both hands on the hilt, driving it into the mountain of flesh with a sickening squelch. Black blood erupted around the wound, spraying the walls, the ceiling and even Dante himself.

  The creature shrieked, a sound made from dozens of throats, discordant and hollow. With his weight, he dragged his sword down. Flesh parted, but he was not done. His Regalia shone, its form shifting mid strike. It extended into a whip studded with razor barbs.

  The whip dove into the open wound.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

  Then the creature exploded from the inside out.

  This time, the blood drenched everything. It spatted across Ace in cold, slimy ropes. He skittered back, eyes wide, but unable to look away. The whip ripped into the creature, ripping, tearing and shredding. Skin disintegrated into red and black sparks. Bones cracked and splintered, reduced to powder.

  Nothing would remain.

  Dante landed in a crouch, whip retracting back into its ring form. He was drenched head to toe in blood. Ace felt ice creep down his spine. His hand shook as the image was burned into his retinas. Dante was utterly calm, surrounded by sparks and gore like it was nothing.

  “That should be the bulk of his corpses,” Dante said as the blood slid off his body without leaving a stain.

  Of course, it's Indifference, Ace thought.

  “Faust got to the morgue. Given that this is the biggest hospital serving the whole of Yokohama, he could be keeping some close to himself,” Dante continued. “Are you listening?”

  “Yes!”

  Dante turned to look at him fully. Ace realised that he probably did not look the part. His grip on his staff was white-knuckled. He smacked his twitching left eye and hung his head.

  Dante's expression softened, just slightly. The frustrated anger dimmed into something closer to concern. “Where's Shiro? You were supposed to be with him.”

  Ace winced. “I, er... I electrocuted him…”

  Dante's eyes widened – the most shocked Ace had ever seen him.

  “And stomped on him…” Ace mumbled, looking at his boots. “Just a little. Not hard. Well, maybe hard. But he's fine! Probably. I just wanted to help, and I can be useful! I know I can, I just need to–”

  “Alright.” Dante ran a hand down his face. He took a breath, the kind that people took when they were likely trying not to throttle someone. “The corpses were under Faust’s control via his Cursed Art. There’s no core to destroy because he’s the core. The only way to get rid of them permanently is to rip apart the stitches holding their bodies together before the threads can reweave. Shred them to nothing before fragments can take root once more. The police managed to evacuate everyone in the nick of time. Even left some spare paramedics behind, hm.”

  Ace nodded, trying to commit it all to memory. “What about his family? His wife and daughter… a-and Oliver? Are they…”

  “Missing,” Dante said tersely. “But I have yet to see them among the corpses.”

  Relief and dread mixed in Ace’s stomach into a messy, nauseating cocktail. “The barrier is keeping him and his corpses in. Only individuals with an acceptable Cursed Essence level are allowed to pass. Faust is playing cat-and-mouse with us,” Dante added. “Good job with the corpses. Gathering them together was very useful.”

  “Thanks…”

  “Let’s get to Faust.” Dante turned in the direction Faust had fled. “I doubt he has anywhere else to run.”

  They moved quickly through the devastated corridor, shoes crunching over broken glass and debris. Dante checked each corner before advancing. Ace stayed closed, his staff at the ready, picking up every creak and groan of the damaged building. Signs pointed them forward to the hospital’s surgical wing.

  They reached a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. It was an operating theatre. A corpse stood before the entrance. As its milky eyes fell upon them, its jaw unhinged. A high-pitched keening sound began to build in its throat.

  Dante moved. His sword flashed silver in the dim light. One strike, and the corpse’s head separated from its body before the sound could fully form. Both pieces hit the ground with wet thumps.

  “How futile.” The corpse’s head seemed to speak. “And what a surprise! The young one is here as well. How delightful!”

  The doors opened, and there stood Faust. His hair was tousled, standing up in wild tufts. His white coat was grey with dirt and dust. A wide and manic smile stretched from ear to ear. His eyes were too bright for someone who had murdered people and mutilated corpses.

  Ace’s hands shook. Not from fear this time.

  From rage.

  He killed them. All of them. Cut apart corpses and sewed them back together like toys. Like they were nothing.

  Blue light crackled along his armour’s veins, flickering erratically before darkening into a deeper shade of green. His grip on his staff tightened until the metal groaned under the pressure. “Where did you take them?!” Ace demanded. “Your family – where the hell are they?!”

  “Ah, straight to the point! How refreshing, unlike your teacher here!” Faust tilted his head, amused. “After finding me, after surviving my little experiments, I suppose you’ve earned some answers!”

  For a moment, Oliver Faust’s smile flashed across Ace’s mind. A thought, crystal clear, took root immediately.

  I'm going to kill him.