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He cleared his throat. “Right, so, about a month ago, my dad was murdered. There was a group of Wicked thralls arrested for the crime already, and I do believe they did it, but I also believe you haven’t realized something about them. I think they were aligned with the Blood Mage going around now, who assisted them with the killing.”

“If something like that were the case, we would’ve heard about it already,” the man said. “Either from interrogations or other witnesses. We’ve gotten lots of people like you in here, deciding that the shadow on the wall must’ve been a spectre of death or the latest monster that came through a realm portal. I’m not going to waste my time listening to another bout of hysteria.”

“Hey,” the other man said, leaning over to Kirik. His name tag read ‘Pombus.’ “Let’s at least hear him out? Doesn’t look crazy to me.”

Kirik rolled his eyes. “They never do.”

Pombus looked at Zeth. “I’m not busy right now. Shoot. Tell me your theory about the conspiracy to kill your family.”

“That’s not—” he sighed. “It’s not a conspiracy. I’m just trying to tell you what I saw. My dad went out on the edge of the forest for a few hours, and when we went out there later to look for him, he was dead. My mom went back to report it, but I stayed behind and continued investigating. And while I did, I caught a glimpse of something strange in the treeline. At the time, I was in shock and didn’t think too closely about it, but after everything that’s happened now, I have reason to believe the Blood Mage in this town was working with the Wicked thralls to kill my father.”

Kirik leaned back in his chair, silently shaking his head.

“And that reason is…?” Pombus asked.

“I saw two things. One was a person in a brown hood—I could just barely make out some of their features. I think it was another of the thralls. But standing next to that person was a beast—a hellish monster. Now, looking back on it, I believe I saw a demon.”

At that, Kirik chuckled. “Everyone all over town is seeing demons these days.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s right,” Pombus said. “Could you describe the demon for us? Some people see things like wild animals or the shadows from trees and assume the worst.”

“Gladly,” Zeth responded. “It stood about a head or two taller than a human would, with deep red skin and a muscled body. Its fingers were tipped with claws, and horns came out of its head. And it stood perfectly still, as if awaiting a command from the person next to it.”

Slowly, as Zeth continued perfectly describing the looks of a demon, the two guards’ eyes widened and they began to lean forward in their chairs, paying much closer attention to Zeth’s words.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Zeth said. “You might just think I’m a coward or something, but I swear, I felt the strongest fear I’ve ever experienced in my life. Like my heart was gonna stop any second. I think there was some sort of mind-altering magic going on.”

The guards exchanged a look, then Pombus adjusted his posture in his seat. “Um, alright. What’s your name? We’re gonna have to get you in a room with a head guard, or something. This is above our pay grade.”

“Oh, my name’s, uh, Alan,” Zeth lied.

He nodded and jotted the fake name down, then looked back up. “Okay. How about this: come back tomorrow and we’ll have the head guard come in to talk to you. He’ll get every detail of your story he can when you see him.”

“Actually,” Zeth said, “I’m…not sure I want to do that.”

Kirik narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“I’m afraid,” he said, hoping his acting skills could carry his lie. He’d never been too good at faking emotion—always pretending not to feel something when he really did, rather than pretending to feel something he didn’t. “This Blood Mage seems extremely strong. And ruthless. And that demon…I never want to even be in the range of fifty feet of it again, much less to be in a situation where it’s hunting me down. And if I give you the information I know, it might get their attention.”

“I assure you, you have nothing to worry about,” Pombus said in a reassuring tone. “I’ve heard talk of someone being caught lately who may actually be the Blood Mage themself. And we can keep you safe here if things go poorly, too—but I don’t think it would even come to that.”

Zeth shook his head. “No, I don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry.”

“You come in here and convince us you have valuable info, then refuse to give it?” Kirik asked, looking extremely frustrated.

“What can we do to assuage your fears?” Pombus asked.

“It’s possible the person standing next to the demon wasn’t one of the thralls, but was instead the Blood Mage themself,” Zeth said. “If that really was the Blood Mage, and they got a good look at my face, then they might come after me if I start talking. But if it was just another of the thralls you’ve already arrested, then the Mage wouldn’t know my face and I’d be safe to talk. So, could I see them? The Wicked thralls you have arrested? That way I could confirm for myself.”

The guards exchanged another glance. Then Kirik looked back at Zeth. “…I don’t think that’s really allowed.”

“I dunno,” Pombus said, “technically prisoners are allowed visitors. This could just fall under that.”

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“Right, but visitors are supposed to have a personal connection to the prisoner.”

Zeth stared at them. “They killed my dad. It’s pretty personal.”

“I…” Kirik sighed. “Okay, sure, that’s fine. Doubt the boss’ll get mad at us for bending the rules to get such good info, anyway.”

Zeth nodded, barely keeping his face from breaking into a wild grin. “Lead the way, then.”

Pombus decided to go with Zeth while Kirik stayed behind at the desk. First, they went through one of the doors in the lobby and down the hall, passing by a few other guards as Pombus tried to remember where the record room was. Eventually, he found it, and walked in with Zeth.

“Alright,” Pombus said, “it’s not really part of my job to be doing stuff in this place, so I’m not totally sure where to find the records of those thralls. Just give me a minute.”

After a bit of time searching, he found the right folder in a box on one of the shelves, opening it up and glancing through at the papers within.

“Let’s see, let’s see…Ah, here we go,” he said, grabbing one of the papers and holding it up. “Looks like they’re gonna be…Hm. That’s strange.”

Zeth glanced at Pombus’s frowning face, then down at the paper he was looking at. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just don’t recognize this symbol.” Pombus pointed at the paper, where a list of names were scrawled down from the top to the bottom in little boxes. Next to each box with a name were other boxes with information like the date they were taken in, when they would be released, and where they were being held. But next to some of the names were little ‘X’ marks written in red ink.

“That’s not normally there?” Zeth asked.

“I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not typically the one to deal with these documents. But in the few times I have, I haven’t seen them. Then again, I’ve never dealt with the documents for Wicked thralls before. Maybe something’s different with them.”

“All of the thralls we’re looking for have the X marks?”

“Not all of them. Just five of the ones we’re talking about. Anyway, I’m sure it’s nothing. Looks like they’re being held in this very building, so it shouldn’t be much of a walk.”

Zeth fought back a groan. They were being held in the one place in town that had the most guards in it? Great. “How many do you have?”

“Looks like sixteen in total. I hope the man you’re looking for is there.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll get what I’m looking for.”

Pombus nodded. “Let me show you the way to our holding cells.”

Zeth did his best to memorize the route to the holding cells as he was led there, visualizing where each turn put him in the building. But when they went down a long staircase into a dingy looking basement, he frowned.

They’re being held underground? There go my hopes of just having the demon bust through a wall from the outside, grab them, and run off into the woods.

Down in the dungeon, Zeth was led past a number of different cells, all lined with walls of stone and iron bars keeping them from escaping. Each one held three or four prisoners in them, all looking at him and Pombus with angry eyes, but not saying much. They didn’t seem to be thralls, considering what Zeth knew from the encounter Zeth had with one recently. Far too quiet.

Finally, they reached the far back of the hall, where there were sixteen smaller cells that each only housed a single person. These people were tied down with chains and rope, with gags in their mouth to keep them from speaking. As Zeth watched, the moment they saw him and Pombus appear in front of their cells, they began frantically wriggling around, as though they were desperate to do anything they could to cause suffering to the people they saw.

Pombus shook his head, looking at each of them through the bars. “It’s a shame, seeing people turn into these things.”

Zeth looked at each of the cells, too, pretending to examine the peoples’ faces, but really studying the cells’ defenses, planning his future break-in.

When he got to the cells at the end of the hall, though, he blinked in surprise. They were empty.

“There are supposed to be sixteen thralls, right?” Zeth asked.

Pombus nodded.

“Then why are there only eleven? These last five cells don’t have anyone in them.”

“I…” Pombus walked over and looked through the bars. Sure enough, there were no people in them. None of the chains or restraints either, like any evidence that there was supposed to be someone there had been removed. “I don’t know.”

“There were five names with X marks, right?”

“Yeah, there were. I guess they got transferred or something.”

“Then why did it say they were located here?”

“I dunno. Maybe they died in confinement?”

“Is there not a regular protocol for something like that?”

“Well, yes, they’re supposed to have their names removed entirely when that happens. But whatever. Did you find the person you saw in the forest? Are you ready to tell us the details of your story?”

Zeth had no idea what was going on with these missing prisoners. It was unfortunate to only get eleven people instead of the full sixteen, but he suspected there was something more going on here. What kind of guard precinct would just misplace a bunch of prisoners?

Either way, the oddity would make a perfect excuse for him. He sighed audibly. “I’m sorry, but this is too weird for me. I didn’t see anyone who looked like the man I saw, and now there are a bunch of these people missing?”

“They’re not missing, I’m sure someone knows where—“

“No, I’m sorry. I have to think about my family. I can’t tell you what I saw; please lead me out of here.”

Pombus looked at Zeth with a clearly disappointed look on his face. “…Okay, fine. I understand.”

As Zeth was led back into the lobby and he turned to head out of the building, Pombus walked back over behind the front desk and sat next to Kirik.

“So he’s gonna be back tomorrow?” Zeth heard Kirik ask.

Pombus sighed. “No. He didn’t find the guy, and got spooked.”

Kirik groaned. “Great. What a waste of time. Let’s just keep this out of the boss’s ears, eh? I don’t wanna get yelled at.”

With that, Zeth left the building and smiled. Alright, you bastards. I saw your faces, I know where you’re being held. You wanna murder my family? Let’s see how that turns out for you.

When he returned to the clearing, Zeth found the demon waiting for him in the same spot he left it.

It turned to look at him. “Are you ready? I’ve long since grown tired of this place.”

The fear stabbed Zeth like an ice-cold nail through the heart. But he was far too excited for it to fully permeate through him.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he said with a shivering grin spread across his face. “Let’s go kill some motherfuckers.”

“Vulgarity is unbecoming of a slug like you,” it said, but not with as much disdain as its voice once held. It stared at him strangely, like it was deep in thought. Eventually it blinked, shaking its head slightly, and spoke once again. “But I agree. Let us depart.”