The Ghoul's Little PlayThing

"You're just a goddamn slave."

Marcus's words echoed deep within Keiran's heart, embedding themselves into his soul. But that was the least of his concerns. Now, he had a clear goal: to survive, to escape, to live. And with the Ghoul completely silent since the school attack—

"So, where to now?" Keiran muttered.

Marcus's anger dissolved as he exhaled. "Bio class. And we're late already. So... Davis is strong-headed. Literally... Uhmm, look man, the sooner you accept this, the better."

Keiran said nothing else, just giving him a smile that said, Let's move on.

They got to the door of the Biology class, and Marcus stopped them. "Tuck in your shirt, straighten out your blazer, drag up your tie and just... look like a preppy snub."

Marcus knocked on the door and twisted the handle, turning it in as the door slowly creaked open—eyes of tens of students facing them, the door still opening—until the teacher's face came back into view. He stared at them with a furious look on his face.

Mr. Davis was an averagely tall man, who wore a brown cardigan, a black shirt, glasses, and—oh yeah—he was made of stone. Like he was hiding it. Only his hands and face were visible.

His gaze settled on Marcus. He spoke with a soft voice, "Marcus, it's very unlike you to be late. Are you feeling alright? Is there something we need to be worried about?" His fingers slowly reached for the bottom of his desk, and the guards in the corner raised their guns ever so slightly.

Marcus jumped in, "Nothing much, sir. Just helping my new friend here get a uniform and get accustomed to the amazing environment," he said, his smile never faltering.

Keiran thought to himself, How does he do this without ripping his eyes out?

All gazes shifted to Keiran by Marcus's side. He knew what he had to do. Didn't make it any easier, though.

His eyes wide, smile beaming as he said, "Just here to learn, sir."

Davis gestured his hand forward, telling them to find their seats, and they walked through the rows of teenagers before finally finding two empty seats by the window.

The class was unlike any Biology class Keiran had ever been in. It was less a Bio class and more a medic class, as Davis pointed at the projector, to the body, and described all the wounds and how to treat them temporarily.

Not being able to keep up, Keiran just stared out the window onto the track that was right outside and imagined a thousand breakout plans as he clenched his fists and tightened his jaw.

"There has to be a way out of here."

*****

The class was over, and the students piled out the door. Keiran, still sticking with Marcus as they made it out, asked, "Where to now?"

Marcus, while loosening his tie, replied, "The dorms. I'm sick of myself enough for one day."

*****

Lucy was in her office, playing games on her phone—anything to pass the time—when a knock came on her door.

"Open," she said.

The door swung open, and a little man, tense and in a hurry, stepped in. "There's a demon on the loose in Riverside City." He said barely audible as he struggled to catch his breath

"And why you telling me?" Lucy asked, not raising her head from her phone.

"Rank - B," he said, his chest heaving in and out.

She raised her head In an instant, "Prep the jet and bring me the file you have on it."

The man gave a slight nod as he rushed out. Lucy dropped her phone on the table and straightened out her jacket as she stepped out of the office. Immediately, the man caught up to her again.

She said, "What do we have on it?"

He replied, "Not much. It's a little girl—twelve years old and in school. Eight dead, and many still in the building. The police are on the scene but are too scared to go in."

Their steps matched as they peddled through the halls.

"Who else should I inform, Miss?"

Lucy's steps halted as an idea lit up like a flickering lightbulb in her head. Turning to the man, she said, "Tell no one."

His gaze widened. "Excuse me, Miss?"

Her voice was cold. "You heard me. Tell absolutely no one. And if you do, I'll come back for your job. I mean it. Prep the jet, just get me some IDC guards, and keep this silent."

"Uhmm... Where are you headed, Miss?!"

She screamed in the distance, "Have to go get my toy!"

****

Keiran and Marcus took off their blazers as they launched onto the bed, exhaustion riddling their bodies.

"So, who's the last bed for?" Keiran said, slowly gesturing a finger toward the bed beside them.

"Oh, that? It's for Mia. She's an angel, so she does whatever she wants—and basically, that implies anything she wants, so..." His body felt too lazy to finish the sentence.

The door swung open as Lucy walked in like a woman on a mission.

"You," she pointed at Keiran, "up now."

Without another word, she turned on her heels and exited.

Marcus turned to Keiran. "Better follow her—and try not to die on your first mission."

Keiran grabbed his blazer and zoomed out of the room, finally catching up to her as she was walking into an elevator. He sidestepped her and stood behind her.

Lucy, curious, said, "Uhmm... What the hell are you wearing?"

"It's the—"

She cut in, "Stop. We'll get you something to wear later."

The elevator doors slid open—crisp white walls at the far edges, the floor reflecting the light that radiated from above, and the space so wide it could fit planes—and it did. Futuristic space fighter jets lined both sides, the place riddled with soldiers, some running, others just stationed there.

As they finally got to a particular jet, they climbed aboard. A squad of six fully armed soldiers sat ready to go.

Lucy said, "Get him something to wear, and let's get this bird in the air."

The soldiers said nothing, all giving a slight nod as one ran out with Keiran. And not up to five minutes later, Keiran stepped back into the plane, wearing army combat gear and boots that looked like they took hours to lace up, but no weapons on him whatsoever.

As the plane took off—

*****

They hovered above a school as Keiran saw the countless people from above, and a quarter of the building wall blown off, as the plane slowly landed.

As they finally reached the ground, Lucy turned to Keiran.

"On no account do you leave my side," her voice strained as she tried to speak above the jet's large wings.

Then, turning to the soldiers,

"You're to rescue civilians only. I repeat—do not engage the demonic, otherwise your deaths are on your hands. And someone get me my sword."

As they handed her the sword in its sheath, she crossed it over her chest. Then they all stepped out of the plane.

Keiran stood perfectly still, eyes wide and turning in the direction of any loud sound that trailed around him, beads of sweat plastered on his forehead, heart racing, and hands shaky.

Ambulances. Fire trucks. SWAT vans. They were all on the side, taking care of people—rubble every which way. Children—some on stretchers, others in body bags—but all profusely bleeding.

The sun's scorching heat didn't help. It'd been the first time he'd felt the sun on his skin since all this started. The air was too stiff to move passively into his lungs.

He wiped off the sweat riddling his face with his sleeve.

Keiran's knees buckled. He placed both hands on them, breath heaving in and out over and over again, as sweat trickled down his forehead.

Lucy tapped his shoulder from above with an unfazed smile.

"You ready to kill a demon?"