Kariel walked slowly, unhurriedly, to better control the speed at which the blade scratched the wall.
He knew what he was doing. He knew at what angle and with what force to guide the blade along this or that surface to produce the sharpest, most monstrous screech.
Of course, he wasn't doing it for musical experiments or out of boredom, deciding to dismantle the tunnel with a blade.
In fact, there was only one reason.
To sow fear.
People are always afraid of the unknown, and that's exactly what he was aiming for.
Squinting, Kariel froze. He heard someone ahead gasping in terror, heard ragged breathing and footsteps that his victim was trying in vain to hide. In the echoing silence of the tunnel, any sound was amplified many times over.
He could kill her right now.
But no. It wasn't time yet.
Or rather, not enough yet.
He stood there for five minutes when a huge shadow jumped down on him from above. The Ghost, bending, whispered in his ear:
"We're not going to kill her?"
"Of course, we will."
"But she's gone."
"She won't get far. This tunnel will lead her to Lynch Avenue. There she will find the leader of the "Blood Fang" gang and ask him for protection."
"Do the people from "Blood Fang" know her?"
"No. But they know the coat of arms of House Scryvok, so, albeit with distrust, they will shelter her," like the previous gang. No one would miss an opportunity to establish ties with aristocrats.
"I still don't understand," the Ghost admitted honestly. "Kariel, you gave them twelve hours to escape or hide, but time is almost up."
Kariel's lips slowly stretched into a smirk.
"That's what I'm aiming for. Twelve hours is just a trick, Ghost.
From the very second I named this deadline, they started counting. They will be nervous, trembling, going mad waiting for these twelve hours to finally expire… Fear will make them forget many things."
"Oh… so you tricked them?"
"Not entirely."
Kariel chuckled.
"They have twelve hours to hide, escape, or try to fight back.
But when that time runs out, they will die. Either way."
Ghost blinked. He couldn't yet fully grasp what a nightmare Kariel's words were for their prey. But he still had a few more questions.
And Kariel had said he could ask at any time.
"How do you know where they are?" Ghost asked, bewildered. "We haven't even scouted before the job."
"I have my own special methods."
"Oh. You said there were three of them?"
"Yes."
"Then why aren't they staying together?"
"Because House Scryvok needs an heir to inherit the title. Nobles can be strangely stubborn about strange things. Someone among them decided that by splitting up, they would increase their chances of survival."
At these words, a single face flashed before Kariel's eyes.
He decided to leave her for last.
The rain continued to fall. Seven hours of rest had restored Kariel's strength. Although his neck was a little stiff from sleeping in a chair, it was a minor inconvenience overall.
"Let's go, Ghost, she should have contacted the Blood Fang by now," Kariel said quietly. "And remember: when we go in there, be as quiet as possible."
"…Oh," Ghost replied, flustered.
"Strange," he thought. "Kariel always insists on working quietly. Why repeat it again?"
He didn't know the reason, nor did he need to.
There are many ways to sow fear.
...
Leina Scryvok was on the verge of madness. Dirty, smeared with filth, she huddled in a ball in the basement of the Blood Fang gang's hideout, afraid to even breathe.
She was afraid. Afraid her breath would attract the monster lurking in the darkness.
A vengeful... spirit.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the basement door. Leina Scryvok immediately raised the assault rifle she had been given and, without a word, stared at the entrance.
Her eyes widened to their limit, her mouth fell open, but she was afraid to breathe. The scar that crossed her entire face flushed crimson.
A seal of mad despair appeared on her once noble face, making her utterly unlike Leina Scryvok.
"Uh... Lady Leina Scryvok?" a hesitant voice called from outside. "I'm Ralph from the Blood Fang. Do you need a change of clothes? The acid rain corrodes fabric, my lady... Are you still there?"
"Blood Fang..."
Leina exhaled, her cheek twitched, but she couldn't fully relax. Standing up, she slowly approached the corner from which the door was visible and asked quietly:
"Is there any movement outside?"
"Eh?"
"Outside! Is there any movement?"
"…Is this your first time in Quintus? It's raining outside, and some guys are racing around the streets. The end of Lynch Avenue is a great place for a race..."
Leina Scryvok took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to scream. During this brief exchange, the anxiety rising from the depths of her soul began to consume the remnants of her sanity once more.
Her hands trembled again.
"…No, no, listen to me, Ralph of the Blood Fang."
Clutching the assault rifle, Leina tried her best to speak evenly and calmly.
"Your task is simple. Constantly monitor what's happening outside, and especially beware of singing. And also... send someone to contact the Glorious Warlords. Tell them Leina Scryvok sent you."
...
The man behind the door muttered something incomprehensibly, then replied:
"Alright, my lady, we'll do it. If you need anything, just call, okay?"
Leina didn't answer. She just trembled.
This had happened before.
At first, she was full of hope that she would manage to escape.
The bandits, seeing her clothes and the Scryvok house crest, treated her with respect, which strengthened her confidence.
After all, not every gang had aristocrats behind them. And even feuding houses didn't allow their people to kill each other's offspring in the Underhive outside the season of the Great Purge.
And then the nightmare from the road appeared.
Leina remembered that the first gang that sheltered her was called the Blood Mist. They had an entire old building as their hideout, and many people—over two hundred.
Back then, Leina thought she could last those twelve hours with them. But she was wrong.
The countdown slowly ticked away, and only three hours remained. The very moment she believed she was saved...
The nightmare came.
First, she heard singing.
Low, drawn-out, with a distinct note of darkness. The melody was smooth, but it felt like a blade sliding across tender skin on her neck.
Just like on the road.
The song penetrated the Blood Mist's hideout, into everyone's ears. And then the spectral slaughter began.
From the lower floor of the building came screams and cries, which, mixed with the roar of gunfire, rose higher until they reached the fourth floor, where Leina was hiding... and didn't stop.
And what then? What happened then?
Leina swallowed, trembling, her saliva almost making her gag. The disgusting taste made her realize one thing with despair.
She knew that now there was not a shadow of a Scryvok heir left in her. She breathed the stench, the acid rain burned her skin, and most importantly...
She was scared to death.
So scared that she didn't even want to remember how the monster broke into the last floor and killed everyone before her eyes.
Trembling, Leina took her watch out of her pocket. Elegant, with a twenty-four-hour dial and the Scryvok house crest on the lid. The inhabitants of the Underhive didn't care about time, but aristocrats did.
They knew that behind the boiling purple-black clouds of Nostramo, a dim sun was hidden.
Leina Scryvok looked at her watch, following the movement of the minute and second hands with hope and trepidation. On the silver dial, they crawled forward slowly. The mechanism ticked in time with her heart.
Soon, very soon...
Twelve hours had almost passed.
She sobbed, crying in the dirty basement of an Underhive gang she despised.
Her clothes were in mud, her face contorted with despair, dirt black under her nails, and clumps of filth she had collected while fleeing in panic were frozen on her elegant leather boots.
But...
Twelve hours had almost passed.
Only five minutes remained.
As soon as she survived these five minutes, she would return to the Upper Hive. She would become Leina Scryvok again. She would be able to, relying on the power of her family, destroy this monster during the Great Purge. It might have dealt with forty guards, but what about four hundred?
Yes, yes, that's how it would be.
She sobbed, but now it was laughter through tears. Despair and hope alternated on her dirty face. She looked at her watch, mentally counting the seconds and praying for time to run faster.
And then.
Finally.
Five minutes... had passed. The second hand made its circle, followed by the minute hand, and then the hour hand. They passed the ancient numbers, continuing their course on the dial that only aristocrats could understand.
Leina froze, looking at her watch.
One second, two, three...
Trembling, she stood up. Tears still flowed down her cheeks, but now they were tears of mad joy. The corners of her lips curled upwards, she barely managed to stop herself from bursting into laughter. There was no sound of the slaughter from before behind the basement door. This meant the monster hadn't found her.
It had lost the trail!
Slowly, step by step, she climbed the stairs, her boots thudding dully on the wood. Leina Scryvok, full of hope, pushed open the basement door and saw...
Corpses.
And a dark shadow.
And then – quiet singing.
Low, drawn-out, with a distinct note of darkness. The melody was smooth, but it felt like a blade sliding across tender skin on her neck.
"No, no, no!" In the last moment of her life, Leina Scryvok let out a tearing scream, like the death cry of a cornered beast.
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan