Thaniel dragged a mop across the floor in long, precise, reluctant strokes, slow and grim like a funeral march. Blood had started to congeal with the fur.
Of course it had.
His muscle memory did the work for him. Most of the kitchen floor was basically radiating light.
He sighed and glanced over his shoulder. His girlfriend stood nearby, watching with rapt fascination.
Or at least that's what he thought it meant when a second set of eyes had opened on her forehead, unblinking.
"…Impressive," she said, voice hushed with awe.
Thaniel exhaled. "It better be. I do this for a living."
He leaned into the mop, swiping one final streak of one final streak of mystery gunk off the floorboards, before peeling off his rubber gloves with a squelch. They joined the rest of the carnage in the trash—next to a cracked bowl, globs of flesh and blood, three bones, and what might've once been a spatula.
"You probably could've skinned it first," he muttered, rubbing his wrist. "Would've made cleaning a lot easier."
She tilted her head, frowning. "I didn't know that was a thing. Besides… I thought you liked texture."
Thaniel gave her a long, soul-tired look, running his hand through his hair. "Well, not anymore."
He stretched, spine popping like a string of firecrackers, and let his gaze settle on her.
Wide, unsettling smile. Glinting red eyes. Blood still drying around her elbows. She stared back at him with the unblinking calm of something that had never quite been human.
"We should go to the grocery store," he said.
She blinked slowly, one set of eyes closing before the other. "What's that?"
He gave her a hollow smile. "You'll see. But first…"
He scanned her from head to toe, lips pressing into a flat line.
"…Let's get you cleaned up."
Her face immediately scrunched in horror. She hissed like a wet cat, backing away toward the corner. "No. No don water. I don't clean."
He stared at her blankly. "...Seriously?"
She nodded once, her head jerking in a sharp, unnatural motion. Her neck cracked audibly. Thaniel flinched.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Fine. Then we're covering you up."
She looked like a cursed spring roll. Wrapped in hoodie, scarf, gloves, mask, and sunglasses, like a five-year-old had dressed her using only hearsay.
"Do I really need this much clothing?" she asked, muffled through the scarf.
"Yes."
"…Okay."
The door creaked shut behind them.
Halgrave City greeted them the way it always did—with a cold wind, a flickering streetlamp, and the soft buzzing of broken neon signs. The sky overhead was a dull gray bruise, bleeding factory smoke into the clouds. The streets reeked of rain, rust, and burnt exhaust.
They walked side by side down the cracked sidewalk. Thaniel's hand clenched around a plastic shopping bag handle even though they hadn't bought anything yet—just muscle memory.
She wore one of his old hoodies now. It hung down to her knees, sleeves swallowing her fingers. Most of the dried blood was hidden under the thick black fabric, though it still smelled faintly metallic if you walked too close.
Her hair was tied back in a lopsided ponytail, crooked and too tight—like she was trying to remember how humans did it from a blurry YouTube tutorial.
Even though she was dressed like it was winter during a mild autumn day, along with mismatching rain boots, pedestrians passed them without a second glance. That was just how Halgrave was. You could be on fire and bleeding and someone would still just ask you for a cigarette.
Still, Thaniel walked a little faster. Just in case.
They passed a crowd of people huddled in a line in front of a rusty vending machine in an open square. His girlfriend made a clicking sound. "...What's that?"
Thaniel didn't even bother looking. "Bread dispenser. It passes out stale bread crackers every day, so the poor who can't afford anything will still be able to work."
She hummed, before starting to nod… Just as Thaniel's hand went to her head, stopping it from cracking forwards.
She stared at him, scanning his face, almost as if she was upset… Before looking at the people around them. She opened her mouth, scarf trembling slightly. "Fine."
The grocery store stood like a rotting tooth between a pawn shop and a closed-down church. Its fluorescent lights buzzed loud enough to be heard from the sidewalk, casting a greenish pall over the cracked tile floor inside.
Thaniel stood quietly, the door opened automatically, the sound of gears grinding already tuned out. A little bell noise sounded overhead, half-hearted.
She hesitated at the threshold, as if something about the sensor-triggered doors offended her. Then stepped in, trailing behind him with unnatural quiet.
They scanned the sad looking aisles filled with… Stuff.
She blinked "...This is… A grocery store. Is this where you catch prey?"
The store smelled like bleach, cheap fruit, and whatever was leaking behind the deli counter.
She sniffed the air, nose twitching under her mask. "It's sterile."
"It's a grocery store," Thaniel replied blankly, grabbing a shopping basket.
They passed a pyramid of canned soup. She poked one experimentally, then jerked back like it had hissed. "...Are these explosive?"
Thaniel tossed two cans in the basket without looking. "You'll get used to it."
"You always used to hate soup," she said, looking at him puzzled.
Thaniel frowned. "I don't think I ever told you that."
She blinked. "Oh. Right. Different one."
He raised an eyebrow. But before Thaniel could question it…
A blur of color. A scuffle of tiny footsteps. Something collided with the monster's side.
A little girl.
Big eyes. Pigtails. A doll clutched in one arm, half a lollipop in the other. She'd been chasing something imaginary through the aisles and now stood frozen, blinking up at the towering, cloth-wrapped woman she'd crashed into.
The monster froze. Her eyes locked on the girl.
All four of them.
Something low clicked in her throat. Her muscles tensed. The little girl looked up at her with wide-eyed confusion, unsure why the nice lady in the funny glasses was suddenly growling.
Thaniel dropped the basket. "Hey," he said gently.
No response.
He stepped closer, calm and deliberate. And reached out, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, as his voice slowly loosened, speaking to her gently, warmly, like he would've in the past. "Don't."
Her head whipped toward him. Teeth twitching under the scarf and mask. Eyes wild behind the shades.
But his touch didn't leave. Just a hand. Steady. Warm.
"Control yourself," he murmured.
The tension bled out of her slowly, reluctantly. Her jaw reset with a faint crack. She blinked, once. Then again. Her fingers uncurled from where they'd started to flex like claws.
The girl looked between the two of them.
Then frowned. "What's wrong with her?"
Thaniel gave her a tired smile, one hand still resting on something ancient and ravenous.
"She's… mentally ill."
The girl nodded. Slow. Almost pitying.
"Oh. Like my uncle Dave."
She walked off, humming to her doll like nothing happened. The monster stared at Thaniel. "What does that mean?"
He didn't answer. They moved on.
By the time they reached the checkout, the world outside had gotten louder.
Sirens howled in the distance, one after another like wolves in heat. The sky had gone red-orange, smeared with smoke. Somewhere far off, another truck hit a building. Screams followed. No one in the store seemed surprised.
The cashier barely looked up as she scanned a box of cereal with one hand and checked a newsfeed on her cracked phone with the other. Something about "Rebel Cells." "Public Threats." "Citizens Encouraged to Report Suspicious Behavior."
A loudspeaker crackled nearby. Government announcement. Something about a curfew. Thaniel tuned it out.
Then came a sharp bark from the exit.
A pair of police officers stepped inside. The automatic sliding door seemed to move faster, as the officers walked in. Clad in black, faceplates down, rifles visible but "relaxed." They moved with the casual aggression of people who expected fear.
One had an extremely annoying curly mustache, and another had a hat that seemed a size too small.
Yet, they couldn't really seem silly when they had rifles that could blow your head off with a single bullet.
One approached.
"IDs."
Thaniel turned, as his girlfriend tilted her head.
Didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two cards. His own—worn, edges frayed. And hers. Her real one. Holding onto it like a religion he didn't believe in anymore.
Old photo. Long before death. Still smiling.
He had kept it. It was the only thing that kept him going, after all.
He handed them over without hesitation, as the officer took them both, studying them. "...You. Remove the facewear."
Thaniel nodded, and she removed it. The officer stared at her uncanny smile blankly, as her eyes stared through him.
"Recent facial surgery." Thaniel offered.
The officer with the annoying mustache studied the cards, stretching the second, before nodding. He slowly leaned towards the other officer, whispering something that Thaniel couldn't hear, as he stood there blankly, unimpressed. His girlfriend clenched a fist.
The air in the store suddenly felt frigid, the humming of the fans growing louder by the second.
No words as he scanned both.
The system beeped green.
"No red flags. Not on the list," the officer muttered, handing them back. "Move along."
Thaniel nodded, pocketing the IDs again.
They walked out.
Outside, the air was thicker. The sidewalks emptier. Police drones circled overhead like metal birds with no song.
Thaniel looked up.
"You okay?" he asked.
She tilted her head, half her scarf slipping. "I didn't kill anyone today."
He gave a ghost of a smile. "That's progress…" Before frowning. "I think."
They walked on.
Past the broken billboard that read TRUST IS SAFETY.
Past the person yelling into a phone while fire lit the windows above him.
Past the city that was falling apart inch by inch, and didn't seem to care who noticed.
Past the couple screaming as the officers took hold of the man, their guns extended.
None of them flinched as the gun fired. A body hit the ground.
And for the first time since she came back, Thaniel's grip tightened slightly around the bag in his hand, as he sighed.
"Next time, we're ordering online."