Chapter 4: The Monster Upstairs
The screams outside stopped. That was the worst part.
The terrifying silence meant the neighbors who had tried to stand in their way were already dead. These weren't thugs; they were Capital City professionals, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake.
BOOM!
My front door exploded inward in a shower of splintered oak and bent iron hinges. The three assassins stepped into my living room, their dark steel armor dripping with fresh blood. Up close, they were even more terrifying. Their eyes were cold, dead voids beneath their ash-grey hoods.
"Please!" I cried out, shrinking back against the wall, raising my hands like a terrified teenager. "I don't know anything! Please don't kill me!"
The leader didn't even blink. He just stepped forward and drove a steel-plated gauntlet directly into my stomach, following it up with a brutal backhand across my face.
I let the blows throw me to the floor. I needed them to think I was helpless. I needed them to drop their guard.
"Search the house," the leader growled to the other two, drawing his heavy, serrated executioner's sword. "I'll take the boy's head. If the merchant's wife and daughter are here, we burn it to the ground."
The other two stepped toward the hallway. The leader raised his massive sword high above his head, aiming perfectly for the back of my neck.
He swung with all his might.
CLANG!
A deafening, metallic ring echoed through the house. But there was no blood.
Instead, a shower of metal shards rained down onto the floorboards. The leader stumbled back, staring at his weapon in absolute horror. The thick steel blade hadn't even scratched my skin—it had shattered into a dozen pieces the moment it struck my neck.
I slowly stood up, dusting off my shirt. The terrified boy was gone. I let the ancient, crushing weight of my true aura leak into the room.
"What… what are you?!" the leader gasped.
I didn't say a word. I just moved.
Before his brain could even process my speed, I was right in front of him. I reached out, my hand wrapping entirely around his face and the steel helmet covering it. I didn't use magic. I just used my grip.
CRUNCH.
The helmet crumpled like cheap tin, and the leader dropped to the floor, instantly dead.
If I killed them all without using fire, the Capital would just think they ran into a stronger physical fighter. No one would suspect a dragon.
The other two assassins froze, staring at the crumpled body of their boss. Panic finally broke through their cold training. With furious roars, they charged at me, thrusting their blades toward my chest.
I was not in the mood to play anymore.
I caught the first blade with my bare hand, the sharp edge completely useless against my skin, and snapped the steel in half with a flick of my wrist. Flattening my other hand, I coated my fingers in a razor-thin layer of physical force and swung my arm like a blade.
My hand sliced cleanly through the second assassin's armored neck. He collapsed beside his leader.
The third assassin dropped his broken sword. His knees hit the floor, his entire body trembling as he looked up at me.
"Wait! Spare me!" he begged, his voice cracking. "I'll give you gold! I'll leave the village!"
I looked down at him, my eyes glowing faintly in the dim room. "I'll spare you on one condition," I whispered. "You are going to tell me exactly who sent you, and why they want Elise Silvercross dead."
He nodded frantically, the words spilling out of his mouth as he spilled all the Capital's secrets.
Down in the Dark…
Beneath the floorboards, in the cramped, pitch-black root cellar, Elise held her breath. Her mother was weeping silently into her hands, while Val's parents huddled tightly together in terror.
Elise's heart was pounding out of her chest. She had heard the door smash open. She had heard Val begging. Then, she heard the heavy thuds, the horrific crunching sounds, and the terrifying screams of grown men.
They killed him, Elise thought, tears stinging her fierce eyes. That stupid, brave boy tried to protect us, and those professionals slaughtered him.
The house above them went dead quiet.
Footsteps approached the hidden trapdoor. Elise grabbed a rusted iron trowel from the dirt floor, her hands shaking but her jaw set. If the killers opened that hatch, she was going to go down fighting.
The latch clicked. The heavy wooden door swung open, blinding light pouring into the basement.
Elise raised her weapon with a scream—
And froze.
Standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at them, was Val. His clothes were absolutely drenched in blood, and his eyes held a dark, terrifying calmness that didn't belong on a fifteen-year-old boy.
"It's safe to come out now," Val said quietly. "They won't be