Slam.


    I jumped awake just as the heavy wooden gate bounced off the walls and smacked back to their resting place, whilst the creature slipped past seamlessly. I heard multiple human voices shouting from all around. I didn’t need to be awake for this. Closed my eyes again.


    I was deposited on something soft. Body, finally permitted to move freely, did so without asking me. Everything spasmed and tingled with sensation of daggers. I hissed and eventually managed to curl up, as much as that was possible. The broken leg professed a hard no to the affair.


    The echoing murmurs betrayed multiple presences in a great hall and it forced me to finally take a look. I was in a church. No pews or an altar, but the colourful windows and columns speckled with cherubs agreed with that assessment. The grandiose space was refurbished with couches, tables and several cupboards. The leather-draped demon looked less out of place than the plain furniture.


    Past him, several people hid behind the stone embellishments, all armed with different kinds of weapons. The guns… weren’t aimed, but not lax either.


    “We… Priest is…” one of them started stuttering louder.


    “He’s coming,” an authoritative growling cut him off and we were all back to awkward silence again. I stared at them, they mostly watched the horned monster in a cloak. My groggy head could not begin to make sense of the situation. Was I to be a ritual sacrifice? Was there to be a spiritual cleansing?


    I struggled to sit. The pain was paralysing, but I made the effort. Standing up would have made for a better picture, but this would have to do. Clenching my teeth, I reached for demon’s surprisingly human hand and cleared my throat. “I do,” I said way too loudly in a domed building and gave myself a stabbing pain in the skull.


    “You do… what? Oh,” the people began throwing stares around and shuffling from foot to foot. Demon remained unimpressed. Well, at least common mortals appreciated my effort. Found my fingers tracing patterns absently on the hand I was still holding. Man, this was so irritatingly soft! Before I could ask which hand cream he was using, the massive doors creaked open again. Someone of unimpressive stature stepped in, leaving more bystanders outside.


    “How may I serve?” the man whispered and it carried just like sermon.


    He didn’t much seem like a priest to me. More like a bulked-up battle monk, but even so the attire was wrong. Black vest, ripped up shirt and pants, heavy boots and fingerless gloves as if he was some kind of gangbanger. Upon closer inspection the lot of them looked similar. Interesting choice, as people fending for themselves outside of big cities usually opted for many-pocketed practicality of the military gear.


    Wait. Was this where the boots came from? I looked around eagerly but saw no bare feet.


    “Make him well,” growling rumbled on throughout the tall ceiling.


    Man in a shredded fashion statement shuffled closer to have a better look at me. His expression did not inspire confidence and I would have bet he actually wanted to make case about a big city hospital. Instead, he proclaimed, “Understood.”


    The horned creature turned and left before my brain caught up. The gate slammed with a boom again. My mouth was entirely different entity, however. “Uh… Was I stood up at the altar? And by the way, you guys really should have left it up. It feels like I’m missing a punch line.”


    The biker dude at the front crossed his arms and gave me squint full of thought. I gave him a wide grin that was all teeth. Alright, most teeth. And perhaps somewhat bloody.


    “Yo, what the fuck, man?” rabble at the back wondered. The crowd was coming in and gawking, even those from outside. I was tired.


    Gangbanger-in-chief looked at someone and indicated me with a tilt of his head. “Everyone out,” his disinterested voice decreed and swarm started reluctantly shuffling backwards. Their noise from outside still reached me, but it was much easier to breathe the freezing air in this holy fortress.


    I reclined on the sofa like I owned the place, tossing arms out widely up on the backrest and gave pointed look to the leader priest guy, “Everyone includes you, bigshot.”


    The man in charge looked at me as if I was nothing, utterly failing to impress me. I stared back just as blankly.


    “Don’t push it,” someone else bristled up instead.


    Perhaps I should anyway. There definitely was a small chance I could convince them of something preposterous. I was just deposited on their doorstep by their god or whatever with no clear instructions. But I was so beat up and tired. Mayhaps tomorrow.


    Conceded with a shrug as though it was worth a try. I got glared at some more. He wanted answers. Tough shit, because I just wanted a nap.


    Last of the three remaining raised a hand in a shy wave, “Hi, I’m Almoner… You don’t seem to be bleeding anymore. It would be better if we rinsed you off first. There’s a tub we can heat up, if you’re up for that much?”


    I perked up. Hot water? I’d sell my soul for less! Sleep would wait, “Ohh! Could you? Please!”


    “I’ll go get it going,” said the disgruntled fellow - after being meaningfully glared at - and finally made himself scarce. Whatever made him feel entitled enough to stay? High up in leadership too? Didn’t seem the type.


    “Thank you! So much!” I shouted after him wholeheartedly with full grin on my face. Warmth! This would be heaven.


    Man tasked with the chore looked back over his shoulder and returned the expression, seeming much more willing to do the task. That one can be buttered up, I noted. Most could be, with a little flattery or politeness, but it was good to remember which could and couldn’t be. Some were outright repulsed permanently. I had a suspicion their sour-faced leader was so.


    Found the youth called Almoner stare at me open-mouthed. He’s snapped out of it and asked, “So, what’s your name?”


    “Six-pack Sam,” I blurted out. The guy’s gaze dropped for a second and as he caught himself, grew flustered.


    “A… stripper name?” he asked indignantly and forced a roll of my eyes - says a guy with religious motif for a name. Well fine, perhaps not overly ironic then.


    “You are about to ask me to undress,” I winked.


    “Excuse me?”


    “For medical purposes,” I suggested and he got even redder. How old was this wide-shouldered innocence?


    Our unwilling supervisor interrupted, “Hurry up, I must know what needs done.”


    “My leg’s busted, but it’s already mending and I’m not resetting it.” It hurt like a bitch, I wasn’t going to let anyone touch it – ever again. “Rest are just cuts and bruises.”


    The two looked sceptical and began giving each other meaningful eyebrows, so I had to intercede, “He only told you to make sure I live, not enable me to run marathons.” A bit sad that, but I had put my sprinting days behind me anyhow. My current profession was harder on the knees than thievery.


    The man in charge hummed with his eyes narrowing again. If angering a demonic deity was a possibility, I’d be glaring at me too. Or slapping the mysterious being for extra chaos and mayhem, either or. Although not just right now - my arm wasn’t turning all the way it should have, so that must be at least fractured also. Parallel cuts on the other one looked putrid. Yeah, perhaps no slapping for a little while.


    “In any case… Let’s go see how that water’s doing,” shaggy-haired guy suggested and it seemed like a fair compromise for right now.


    The two assisted me with my hobbling scrunched up nosed, but with some effort we’d reached the outdoors. Each hop was jostling all of the skeleton. Pain was making me bleary and I just fell into the water without paying much attention to surroundings. I could tell there was literal bonfire heating up the contraption. It worked and that was all that mattered.


    “Holy shit,” bulky nurse exclaimed as he helped me to pull the clothes off. Yeah, I was pretty grimy, but not all of it was dirt. Was painfully clear as some of the blotches stubbornly refused to rinse away. “God damn, did he do this to you?”


    “Nah,” I said fighting off sleep. I’m lying, I wasn’t even trying. This was heaven, especially after being in the cold for weeks. I could die here and not even care. These people with their poking though…


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    “You… sure?”


    “Yea.”


    “So he’d helped you?”


    “Debatable,” I replied dryly. Still, the assistance has given me a chance to try and get back home again. They were the only reason I held out this long. Everyone must think me dead by now… Nothing better than proving people wrong.


    “Can you tell us what happened?”


    “I’m not confessing no sins to a demon cult!” I shouted lethargically.


    The dripping medic shot a glance to the side and murmured, “… Albeit we did end up being somewhat like a cult under heel of what appears to be a literal devil, church is merely a building with thickest walls we bunker in in an emergency.”


    “Yea, how exactly did that happen?”


    “Uh, long story,” Almoner threw another brief look towards his danger-radiating supervisor.


    “Same, same,” I related. Curiosity seemed to abate for now, guy stuck to cleaning the wounds where I couldn’t reach. Kicked the fire out after water started getting tad too warm. Priest made few relevant inquiries, and after they decided I wasn’t imminently dying right this second, wandered off.


    I woke with gentle slapping on my cheek and was forced to climb out of the murky water. Got bundled into a towel and was dragged back into to the church. I don’t know how I was upright at all. Bath was so relaxing the little hops should have been impossible.


    The room smelled like bleach. And that was where I happily passed out. Frankly surprised it took me this long.


    I woke to find myself in a blanket, then passed out some more in warm comfort. Next time I rose was still bleary, but no longer tired. Tried to sit, careful of my leg but didn’t jostle it for once. There was a splint attached from the hip all the way below the knee. Something similar on the fractured wrist. Various bandages here and there.


    Upon seeing the bucket of water my eyes popped out and I tripped over myself trying to reach it. Then tried again, slower and finally had my fill. I’d probably regret later downing it all at once but I was all about life with no regrets now.


    There was stale bread and even a dried sausage. Too bad my teeth wanted to have nothing to do with either of those. At least the stomach wasn’t interested either!


    After prolonged confrontation with the food I choked it all down anyway.


    I ransacked their infirmary. Shelves had mystery bottles, and from drying leaves scattered around I presumed most of those were herbal concoctions. The medicine was a costly affair, even more so in the middle of nowhere. I should expect some animosity because of that. There was a reinforced case, which probably contained remainder of cures from the crumbling civilisation. I chose not to have a crack at it.


    Candles, flashlights. All sorts of crap. Blankets, sheets, bandages. Clamps and sharp tools, one of which I’d pocketed. Figuratively, as I was yet to find anything to wear.


    Nearby was the pink bag pack, which I pointedly ignored up until this point. I sighed and pulled out the girl’s summer clothes. Not the skimpiest I’ve worn in my life, but that wasn’t saying much. I was in no way a hiking person myself, but why would anyone pack these to a trek through a wilderness? I was beyond bemused.


    Fiddled about and unclasped the splint. Embracing the ever-familiar pain I’d dressed up in a tank top and short shorts. Perhaps they were just shorts, but not on my build. I was scrawny, but still taller than the teenage girl.


    Put the cast back on and hobbled my way across the room. It was easier with furniture and walls holding me up, but still fairly difficult as there was no way I could put any weight on the damned leg. I don’t remember the pain being this bad when I ran off... Looks like I made it much worse. Typical. It beat the alternative though! Will probably need to keep pushing myself getting my ass out of this suspicious place, too. Was not looking forward to that. Hopefully that’s tomorrow’s problem. Perhaps the million sores would dull.


    I succumbed on a bench right outdoors, sweat dripping down my nose. It was sunny and peaceful. River gurgled by at the foot of the hill, plantlife gently swayed in the wind. Fenced off garden leered at me invitingly.


    “Oh. Uh… You’re up,” somebody stated the obvious.


    I turned my head from the idyllic scenery to be a smartass, but shut up immediately. On the other side were the shower stalls, saunas and what not. And the speaker stood in small scraggly towel alone, looking all delicious. I made a show of staring appreciatively.


    “Uh… Lemme get dressed,” easily reddening caretaker of mine scurried off into the buildings surrounding church. How young and innocent of him.


    When he promptly returned with others in tow and I was on the receiving end of several quirked eyebrows, it was my turn to squirm. My choice of attire left a lot to be desired.


    I shook it off. Outstretched my arms, “Be welcomed on my humble bench, fellow cultists. Country bumpkins,” I nodded to an especially disgusted-looking fellow.


    “If whoever fucked you up didn’t teach you to keep ye mouth shut, I will,” the bumpkin threatened and took step closer, just to be stopped with small touch from their leader. “Fucking fag,” he muttered.


    I gasped, “Are you mocking our lord’s and saviour’s taste in fashion? How dare you!”


    “Whacha yappin’ ‘bout?”


    “Obviously, the pink baggie and everything inside is his. Didn’t you see it slung over the monster’s shoulder?” I insisted.


    “No, I just seen you hanging off his shoulder uselessly.”


    “Well then, consider me belonging to him too and get yo grouchy ass busy elsewhere. Chop chop,” I clapped and pointed away.


    The angry musclehead was both mollified and ticked off more. “You motherfucker,” he’d muttered.


    “Upgraded to heterosexuality! Praised be,” I mocked looking straight into burning eyes. I didn’t need to push it this hard, but boundaries were important to find out. He was sent off with a pointed nod from his master before a vein could burst.


    “Do you want to get stabbed?” another onlooker wondered without particular animosity.


    “It’s okay, you guys will keep me safe,” tossed them a wink and turned knowing look towards the stoic group’s leader, “Especially you.” He had no choice and it was painfully plain. I might get throttled before any of the goons get a chance, but judging by the lack of expression he didn’t care about my provocations all that much.


    “You go way out of your way to be insufferable, don’t you?”


    I was about to make a statement how lovable people found me, but was cut off without going on that tangent. Priest stated calmly, “He said to make you well, not keep so.”


    I waved it off without any worry, “Pft, we all know what he really meant.”


    “You can be made well in the wet, mouldy dungeon where we keep our dead,” man with dead eyes said looking straight at me and I knew that he knew – somehow - but I played this game for as long as I lived and betrayed nothing.


    Also blond nurse’s confused expression made me at ease.


    “You dog, you’re willing to share them with me? That’s really considerate,” I beamed with my brightest smile. Because really, who keeps their dead anyway? Poor innocent healer boy was at risk of getting cramps on his face from all these expressions he was tossing around.


    Priest nodded dismissively, “I can see why he liked you. But do not presume you are safe. If you do get stabbed, I am putting you down there.”


    Hmmm… “Does that mean he really can revive people?”


    “Yes,” expressionless leader admitted firmly, examining me still with unchanging glacial stare.


    I was an unbeliever. “Does he just say that or you’ve seen for yourself?”


    He kept on staring and it was starting to disquiet even me. Silence got to blondie first, he’d rubbed back of his neck and pointed to the passionless rock of a man, “He dies pretty frequently… in defence of the town.”


    Awkward. Quick, need to ruin it. “No wonder you seem like a walking dead,” I said to the lifeless eyes and air got even thicker. “… Which makes my brainless ass safe?” I said self-depreciatingly, in attempt to gloss over it but still felt like a complete asshole. I’d have much deader eyes if sweet release kept being refused. And he was doing something useful for others. “Sorry.”


    “You’re an idiot,” peanut gallery commented with clear dislike. Could not blame him.


    I swear I saw Priest’s eyes slightly crinkle with amusement before going back to flat staring. Agh! So he successfully made me squirm and didn’t give a fuck about this.


    Since the dead-eyed man won this round, I will need to have another go at him to establish dominance. Question was, is losing an eye really worth it?


    “Well, I can’t be this hot and smart. It would be unfair to you all,” I responded to the insult.


    “Anyway, what can you do? As in skills. You’ve a lot of supplies to pay for,” a voice in the crowd demanded.


    Oof, this would be a tough one. The skills I use to pave my way through life might not be appreciated in a small (religious?) community.


    “Hey, that’s a little too soon isn’t it? He shouldn’t be out of bed at all!” Almoner protested fierily.


    “But he is and might as well sit on the watch.”


    “Oh! I can do that,” and after the statement was met with disappointment I added, “I guess I can… patch up clothes?”


    “Eh… Cities hold onto their craftsmen too well,” the taskmaster grumbled.


    “Or they just suck at navigating the great outdoors,” I chirped in. They gaped at me and I mumbled glumly, “Can’t be good at everything.”


    “And you don’t? At scavenging?” Ahh… They wanted somebody to take on the most hazardous task. But I’d need to go out to leave this place sometime, so might as well.


    “This wasn’t my first rodeo,” I confirmed, being firmly on my second big venture outside. Granted, my current predicament wasn’t even caused by monsters. “In any case, have you guys got any crutches in this joint? I don’t think I can hobble very far like this.”


    “I couldn’t find them. I’ll look around more after my watch,” Almoner said.


    “Oh! Can I join you?”


    He smiled and extended an arm for me to hold onto. Gladly used the excuse to get a hold of the sturdy countryside youth and lean into him. It was almost fun walking three-legged with this good-natured guy. Would have been pure joy if I wasn’t sweating from all the effort.


    Passing through more people he broke down and asked, “Really though, what’s with the clothes?”


    “You don’t approve?” I faked sadness with pouty lips. “Should I cover up?”


    He covered up his face instead and began to fidget. He was genuinely young. “No, I mean… You have a nice body… It’s just… Not your size?”


    “The only other option in that room was blanket toga, and I don’t think wry glances would have been any different if I wore that. Although…” My thoughts drifted into a dramatic roman-emperoresque entrance. Tomorrow? Looked around for leafy branches for a wreath.


    The young man exhaled deeply, “The bag… really wasn’t yours?”


    I grinned to tease, “Did I strike you as a pink purse guy?”


    The lips pulled on all the bruises on my face and I regretted it immediately, but Almoner returned wide smile which made it worth it. He squinted at me and looked really close, “Well… I can’t really tell. Are you?”


    That was fair. I suppose I could come off all sorts of ways, especially on such brief acquaintance. Swayed my head and admitted, “I could make it work. What about you, altar boy, how did you end up in leathers?” Gang couldn’t have been his calling. The most others had distinctive vibe of being real hoodlums. This guy wouldn’t rob a fly. In fact, he just got robbed and hadn’t even noticed it. It was a bunch of several keys. Home and perhaps the medicine safe? I put them back.


    We arrived at a newly built brick wall and a woman waved as she passed us while leaving. He released me and went up on a patio which overlooked the perimeter outside. I struggled up holding onto the wall.


    From up here I saw dismantled houses, bricks of which were used for the project. It wouldn’t stop even a determined human, but I guess that’s what armed watch was for. How were they dealing with inhuman onslaught? Some of the monsters were unpredictable in their approach. Like the beckoning thing from the trek. There were beginnings of a forest in the distance and I eyed greenery suspiciously. Could that thing have followed?


    Almoner sat down, looking at the same shrubbery in the horizon and hummed, bringing my attention back to the conversation. “Well… The guys showed up when near everybody got taken. Either by river, or the woods. They killed the apparitions. Ended up staying. Been teaching us how to stay alive… And now, if they ever decide to leave, I’d go with.”


    “Doesn’t seem like anyone’s going anywhere,” I slapped the bricks.


    “Yeah. It’s an okay place to coop up at.”


    But he hated it here. The place reminded him of all the people that no longer filled the empty places.


    “Soo… he was Priest even before taking up residence in the church?”


    “Yeah, uh… They’ve been in contact with his guardian from way back. Mostly Priest, from what I’ve gathered. Others flocked around him. Y’no, the kids hanging out in graveyards at night with candles and all that stuff,” Almoner implored me to understand with mortification on his face. I did, and this was about to become painfully embarrassing for some of them.


    Couldn’t hold in a chortle, “Do you know which ones were the edgy goth kids?”


    Hm. Would it be embarrassing? They did turn out to be right, in some sense. It was still hard to reconcile the world as it should be to what it actually was. The shift had been gradual. In the city one could barely tell. All shortages can be easily written off to the wars we still fought amongst ourselves, somewhere not terribly far off.


    “Envy’s one. The guy behind Priest just then.”


    I racked my memories and something wasn’t taking the right shape. “The one with steel pipe on the belt?” Nod. “But he’s much older than your leader.” Priest hadn’t looked that much older than me. The dead eyes did seem like they’d seen everything… But then again, if I didn’t try so hard that’s exactly the expression my face would make too.


    Shaggy haired blondie pursed his lips and considered if he’d said too much or not enough. Eventually just shrugged, “Well, I told you he doesn’t die.”


    “Right,” I said and we both sat staring into the open fields that used to be arable land. The village still worked some of it to an extent. Demons or not, people had to eat something. Meat could go only so far.


    “The old folks must have loved all the devil worshipers moving in,” I tried for a cheerful jibe, but the kid stiffened some more.


    “They were all gone by then,” he whispered. “One by one walked into the water, only to show up next day. Just being near them, or the water made the mind cloudy, body - sicker. It was like they took part of you even if you didn’t go.” Almoner shook his head to escape grim memory, and attempted weak smile, “Sorry. I think you’re right. They would have hated the Fingertips of the Devil, even if they weren’t affiliated with strange things.”


    I cleared my throat and said with pretend cheer, “That’s old people for you.”


    There were more things I wanted to ask – about location, the people, their demon - but perhaps not of him anymore. This exchange was uncovering still raw wounds on this young person, and he didn’t deserve that. I took Almoner’s hands and he squeezed it back. Steered the talk towards the city, the things I hated and enjoyed.