Netherkind

by Greg Chapman

  Thomas sprinted, the urge pumping blood and oxygen through his body in one final burst for survival. The man saw him coming and screamed, but he had no time to flee, not even blink. Thomas gripped his arm and yanked it free—the quickest way to subdue and slow your prey was to deplete it. The blood splashed across his face and he licked his lips. Overwhelmed now, he climbed on the man’s back and chewed into his neck, severing his spinal cord like it was a rubber band—a clean kill.

  The corpse fell and Thomas feasted, his first meal in twenty-four hours. It was the best flesh he’d tasted in a long while. As he fed, boos and cries of anger rang out from the Valedia, they wanted their fair share. Thomas cradled his kill—they weren’t going to get a single morsel.

  “You have to give them some!” a long-haired Phagun told him, a hunk of man-flesh hanging from his mouth like a ridiculously long tongue.

  Thomas looked to the crowd and saw their furious gazes then back to the remains in his hands. He tried to think of the most expendable portion. He ripped the man’s face off and tossed it into the screaming masses.

  “You’ve got to do better than that!” one of the spectators said—an elderly female Phagun.

  Thomas ignored her and returned to the task of stripping the meat from the dead man’s leg. Juice ran down his chin and it was ecstasy. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Nero at his back.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he said. “You’ve got to give the crowd its dues!”

  “It’s mine!” Thomas said. “They can come down and get their own!”

  Nero laughed. “They’re not hunters—you have to provide for them!”

  Thomas glared at him. “I’m not a hunter either—you just threw me down here and I needed to feed. You can’t expect me to share!”

  Nero shoved him. “Well, if you don’t, that’s a deal breaker and then we’re both fucked!”

  Thomas pushed back. “You could have explained the rules! But maybe you don’t really want to help me!”

  As he spoke, Thomas caught sight of something truly horrific—two Phaguns fighting over a human child. They were toying with him, tearing at his clothes, scratching his tender skin. The boy, who must have been only ten-years-old, was as pale as the beasts looking to devour him.

  “What the hell is going on there?” Thomas cried.

  “A bit of fun by the looks of it!” Nero said punching the air. “Yeah, mince the little fucker!”

  Thomas ran towards the boy, his reflexes at optimum now that he’d fed. He heard Nero warning him, but soon his voice was simply a whisper, as Thomas sped away. He slammed into one of the hunters who had hold of the boy, sending his hulking frame into the blood-sodden dirt. Thomas turned with lightning speed and grabbed the boy by the arm, lashing out with his right leg to kick the second Phagun back into a wall.

  “Don’t worry,” Thomas told the boy. “I won’t let them touch you.”

  “I know I might sound like a broken record, but what the fuck are you doing now?!” Nero said as the Phagun pack stopped feasting to turn their dark eyes Thomas’ way.

  “You’re not going to kill this child!” Thomas said, keeping his gaze on the pack.

  The crowd was furious now and Thomas feared they would storm the arena. Nero tried to calm the pack hunters.

  “He’s new guys, okay?” Nero told them. “He’s a little fucked in the head ’cause he doesn’t understand the rules—do you Tommy?”

  The boy whimpered in Thomas’ grip and his heart beat out a horrible throng. Thomas bit down the desire to kill him that instant—but one rule he’d always lived by on the surface was never kill a child—no matter how hungry he was. He knew all too well what it was like to be young and alone and in fear for your life.

  “You cannot eat children!” Thomas said again. “And anyone who tries to take him will be dead before they hit the ground!”

  One of the pack hunters moved to attack, but Nero halted him.

  “He’s under the protection of the King!” he said.

  “He’s breaking the law!” the hunter argued. “He won’t share, and he refuses to kill the runt!”

  The crowd howled for blood, but it was Thomas’ they thirsted for now.

  “What would the King think if he saw what this Phagun was doing now?” the hunter said.

  “He’d order his execution!” another answered him.

  “Then let’s save him the trouble!” a third said, before charging.

  Thomas pushed the boy aside and landed a blow to the hunter’s solar plexus, quickly following it up with a right fist to the jaw. Still, the hunter was strong and fast, and he lashed out with his claws at Thomas’ throat. Thomas moved swiftly and performed a cartwheel, his leg whipping back to land a blow on the hunter’s temple. The hunter reeled and dropped to his knees, but his comrades quickly came to his aid.

  All Thomas could think to do was shock them. He leapt on the hunter he’d incapacitated and bit into his neck and black Flesher blood jetted out into the air. The hunter writhed in Thomas’ grip, but with the killing bite dealt, his victim was dead on the ground in seconds.

  And the Valedia fell silent.

  8

  The hunter pack swelled in number, rearmed by the King’s men. Quickly Thomas realized he was surrounded on all sides, so many sets of teeth, all seeking to exact revenge. He could kill one, but not all, so he was ready to accept his fate.

  The Phaguns were on him in seconds, claws piercing his new suit, set to tear him apart in the arena. Through the pain, Thomas wondered whether they would toss him to the crowd. Did they eat their own kind too?

  He heard Nero begging the pack to cease their attack, but they were all rage and hatred, a gathering of wolves seeking to drive out the weakling. The crowd in the Valedia reignited their collective voice, the roar of a single beast, baying for blood.

  Yet Thomas only feared for the boy he’d saved—what would they do to him once they’d finished ripping apart the traitor? He turned to stare at the boy and saw the whites of his eyes; blanched by terror.

  “Run!” he told the boy, but what was the point when the monsters were so willing to turn on their own—to shred them? The boy had never had a saviour in the first place—had he?

  The hunters grasped each of Thomas’ limbs and braced themselves to pull, until the King’s minions unexpectedly broke ranks and turned on the hunters. The minions, armed with great swords of sharpened stone, outmatched the hunters. Dismayed, the pack let Thomas fall to the ground.

  Thomas looked to them, confused and uncertain of his fate—until the minions parted to let their leader through.

  There was such disappointment in Gavenko’s eyes, and yet, a semblance of fear beneath. He glanced to the Phagun Thomas had bled and then back again and, for a second, fear overwhelmed his gaze.

  “What have you done?” Gavenko said, staring at the blood of his kin turning the soil to dark mud.

  Thomas sat up, but so slowly. “The boy…”

  The boy flinched and retreated to the wall. Gavenko looked the human child’s way, a flash of hatred in his visage now.

  “Do we really eat children?” Thomas said, trying to reason with the King.

  “The humans are our food,” Gavenko said. “All of them.”

  “He’s just a kid!’” Thomas said.

  Gavenko reached out to Thomas, as if he wanted to crush him himself, but his clenched fist became a finger of blame.

  “You have broken our rules!” he said. “You will be punished!”

  Thomas looked to the crowd, who were all silent once more. Gavenko had power over all of them, with his voice and actions. They demanded blood and there was no doubt that their King would have given it to them. As Thomas scanned their grimacing faces, he remembered that the Phaguns were all male and female adults—there were no children. Thomas turned back to the human child, confounded.

  “Why don’t you have children here?” he said. “Where are your children?”

  Gavenko’s
brow furrowed. “You are no longer allowed to speak—take him to the Sederunt!”

  The minions drew their swords and ordered Thomas to his feet. As he was dragged out of the arena Thomas took one last look over his shoulder at the human boy and knew he would never see him again.

  The flame in the Sederunt had long since died out, and the dark cold filled the room like a shroud.

  The ambient light had subsided, as if in fear of Gavenko’s simmering fury. The King stood rigid, sharp; his eyes fiercer than the swords at Thomas’ back.

  Thomas was on his knees, bound, the blood of the pack hunter he’d killed in his nostrils. He could see no way out—he was going to die in return for murdering one of his own. Gavenko’s words boomed in the court:

  “Tell me why I should not have you skinned, right now?”

  The point of one of the flint swords was jabbed into Thomas’ back.

  “Tell me why Phaguns feel the need to eat children?” Thomas said, defiant still.

  Gavenko took a hold of Thomas’ hair and shook him.

  “You are a Flesher—a member of the Phagus tribe! Yet you resist what you are—lash out at it—why?”

  Thomas winced in pain as the edge of a sword drew blood from his throat.

  “I know…I’m a monster,” he said. “But I don’t think I want…to live among monsters that are worse than me!”

  “You are one of my Phagus—mine!” Gavenko said, slapping a hand against his chest. “And you belong here with me—in my city, following my rules!”

  Thomas wrenched his hair free of Gavenko’s grasp.

  “Then you’re going to have to let me go!” Thomas said. “You know as well as I do that I don’t belong here!”

  “No—you cannot leave here!”

  “Why? You cast Nero out—why can’t you do the same for me?”

  Gavenko turned away and Thomas swore he could see tears sprouting in his golden eyes. For all his power, he looked like a man who was desperately losing his hold—on everything, perhaps, Thomas wondered, even his sanity.

  “Nero sinned, yes and could have died at my hands, but I relented,” the King said before turning back to face Thomas. “But why should I make the same mistake with you?”

  Thomas swallowed. “Did Nero eat the flesh of his brethren?”

  Gavenko’s lips trembled and tears fell down his alabaster cheeks.

  “Why do you do it, Flesher?” he said, his voice softer now. “Why can’t you simply accept what you are and join us?”

  Thomas scoffed. “And live here in the dark—afraid of some, war? I’d rather the city and the humans!”

  Gavenko interlocked his fingers and Thomas could see he was toying with his thoughts—determining the delicate balance between life and death. Gavenko thought he was a god. Thomas closed his eyes and waited for the King’s final command.

  “What happened to you on the surface?” Gavenko said, his tone calm.

  Thomas recoiled as Stephanie came to mind, that first encounter with a Phagun with an appetite to rival his own.

  “I told you, I grew up alone—”

  “Yes, but you also lied about your first meeting with a Flesher,” Gavenko said.

  Thomas shuddered. “No—”

  “And now you’re lying again,” Gavenko said, his voice like a snake’s hiss. “I can see it in your eyes. If you value your life—if you want me to set you free—to cast you out alive—then do not lie to me now.”

  Thomas felt tears on his cheeks and Gavenko knelt to cradle him. The King smelled so sweet, so pure. Thomas felt a build-up of guilt, like a hand around his neck. He didn’t think he could contain his secret any longer.

  “She…fed on me,” Thomas confessed, his body shaking.

  “Who, Thomas?” Gavenko said, consoling him, caressing his hair. “Did another Flesher hurt you?”

  “Stephanie—”

  Gavenko cringed and pushed Thomas away, leaving him sprawling on the floor. The King looked upon him, mortified. Stephanie’s name echoed about the Sederunt as every other Phagun in the court cursed her in whispers.

  “Get him out of here!” Gavenko said, gasping. “Send him away—and don’t ever let him in our city again!”

  Thomas was torn between elation and fear; the King’s terror disturbed him.

  “Who is she?” Thomas said as the minions dragged him towards the doors. “Please—tell me!”

  Gavenko retreated to his throne, falling into it with the weight of a man whom all the ages of his life had finally caught up with. He was a man plagued by grief.

  “Please!” Thomas cried. “Tell me who she is!”

  The Sederunt doors were parted and Thomas was tossed into the dark beyond like trash. He scrambled back to the heavy doors, the pounding of his fists drowned out by the locks being turned sealing him outside the city walls.

  And for the second time in his life, Thomas was alone.

  The world outside the Flaeschama was a void, desolate with darkness.

  Thomas marched through it, over rocky outcrops, weathered by time, their edges slicing into the skin of his brand-new feet. He was searching for the door to the elevator that led back to the sewers and then the human city, but the darkness was a labyrinth that left him blind, inky air above, ashen ground below.

  Thomas couldn’t wipe the vision of Gavenko’s face from his head—the King terrified, pained at the very mentioning of Stephanie’s name. Who was she to him? It seemed just contacting her was a greater crime than killing another Phagun. Thomas knew what she was capable of, but the foul acts she inflicted upon him six months before might have been one small aspect of her evil.

  The answers would have to be pondered another time as Thomas was irrevocably lost. The dark canopy had dispersed like a fog, but only to reveal towering walls of gray slate, long barricades to freedom. Thomas stumbled and fell onto the rocks, damaging his newly formed skin.

  Then he saw a wide crack in one of the walls. Thomas approached it, cautious of what could be on the other side, but wasn’t the other side far better than being trapped here with his fears? He crouched down, intent on crawling through the space when a face appeared from within it.

  Thomas’ cry of fright could have rallied the dead. His terror only subsided when he realized the face was a familiar one.

  “A bit lost, are we?” Nero said, following the remark with a grin.

  “What are you doing here?” Thomas said as Nero freed himself from the clutches of the crack.

  “I could ask you the same question, Tommy boy—I mean, you’ve really gone and fucked things up for yourself, haven’t you?”

  Thomas tried to ignore Nero’s jibe and bent down to peer through the crack.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “Oh, you don’t wanna go in there, that leads back to the Sederunt and Gavenko and he’s royally pissed at you!” He slapped Thomas on the shoulder. “You know, you could have told me you knew Stephanie!”

  Thomas looked to Nero, curious. “You know her?”

  “Well, yeah, but that’s her adopted human name,” he said. “Her real name’s Calea and man are you lucky you lived to tell the tale if she got her claws into you!”

  Thomas stood and gripped Nero’s arm. “Tell me who she is?”

  “A real fucking bitch—that’s who!”

  “How does Gavenko know her?”

  Nero laughed, his guffaw riding the air. “Know her? She’s his fucking daughter!”

  Thomas’ heart sank, he never expected Stephanie—or Calea—to be royalty. She was far too savage for that.

  “So what happened? Why is Gavenko so afraid of her?”

  “Cause she tried to kill him,” Nero said. “She wanted his place as King, so she tried to ice him—had a whole rebellion planned, with troops and everything. But Gavenko found out and had them all imprisoned. He wasn’t happy to discover his only child was the leader. He ordered the rebellion members skinned alive—but Steph—shit—Calea—escaped.”

  Nero scanned
the walls, searching for something. “Gee, with so many Phaguns rebelling, being outcast or imprisoned, I should probably think about starting up a fucking club!”

  “What are you doing?” Thomas said, his patience wearing thin.

  “Looking for a way out.”

  Thomas frowned. “I don’t understand you—first you kidnap me and try to kill me, then you help me around the city only to throw me to the pack hunters and here you are again trying to help me escape—what gives?”

  Nero smiled. “Me? Nothing, really,” he said. “I guess I…kinda admire you. I’ve been alone a long time and sometimes, yeah, I get a little pissed off when someone gets in my space, but then you started to get interesting, with your taste for Phagus flesh and all. And when you said you knew Stephanie well, that was the clincher for me.”

  Thomas sighed. “So, come on—tell me how you know her”

  Nero concentrated on the wall once more. “Oh—well, I was her servant for a while.”

  “Her servant?”

  “Yeah, she was the King’s daughter after all, but because I knew about her plans for rebellion and didn’t tell Gavenko he had me booted out on my ass!”

  Thomas wanted to know more, but a sound, a low echo, suddenly swelled in the air. It was like a long musical note, deep, mournful. The call of something or someone in the dark.

  “Oh, shit!” Nero said.

  “What?” Thomas said, searching the black rocks.

  “We have to get the fuck out of here!” Nero told him, rubbing his hands along the wall, frantic.

  “Why?’” Thomas stood taller to try and see what Nero was afraid of. “I don’t see—”

  Then he did see them: shapes, figures, crawling, skittering. Humanoid shapes crouched and hunched down; eyes vacant yet staring all at once. Thomas’ blood ran cold at the sight of them.

  “What are they?” he said.

  “Fucking Lepers!”

  There were six of them, some moving slow, with limps, others moving with the speed of a jumping spider. But all of them shared a common trait—varying states of decay. Yellow flesh drooped from their faces, arms and chests, whole strips of back hide dragging over rocks behind them like the filth encrusted trains of ancient bridal gowns. Thomas smelled their scent, a heady mix of foul meat, rendered fat and excrement.