15. Annette

But how can you be certain?

Rukh gives me his signature knowing grin. I can smell the rancid corruption from here, little one. Can you not?

I raise a skeptical eyebrow, unsure exactly what that means. Without another word, he leads me to a ramshackle tavern loused with grizzled men clad in the mayors insignia. Observe, he murmurs.

Sure enough, they harass the other patrons aggressively, their crude jokes and flagrant use of women hinting at much worse misconduct. They flaunt this behavior in the middle of town? The other villagers clearly fear them.

The corruption runs deeper than you know. He points across the street at a couple of drunk, leering men snatching a young woman and muffling her cries. My hands tingle with magical energy, ready to strike them down.

A restraining hand grips my shoulder. Not yet. On my order. His voice is ice cold, his gaze fixed on the men like a wolf stalking his prey. The sentence is clear, is it not? he asks, eyes never leaving his prey.

I give a single, solemn nod.

“For such wickedness, there can be no mercy.” We stalk the thug at a distance as he drags the sobbing girl into a dim alley. I scan his clothing but see no insignia or other definitive signs of his allegiance. But nobody stops to help her. The twilight bystanders turn the other cheek.

The girls muffled cries and the towns’ apathy stab at my heart. We must intervene. We can’t just stand here, I insist, magic already glowing fuzzily in my palms.

But he stops my hand. Patience. Their fate is sealed.

Reluctantly, I comply. The alley leads to a grim, windowless building. The thug pounds on the steel door, giving a slurred password. It swings open, and he disappears inside with his victim.

Rukhs eyes blaze with cold fury, Now do you see? These kinds are a cancer in need of purging. If you take one, six more will appear. You need to excise the source so it can’t grow back.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

A frontal assault would only get you killed, little one he admonishes. Patience and cunning are required here.

I take a deep, shuddering breath. Youre right. What do you have in mind?

He points to a darkened window on the buildings second floor. Well infiltrate from above and work our way down. Follow my lead.

He starts to scale the side of the building with preternatural dexterity and I’m left leaping for a handhold several feet higher than I can reach. I attempt to whisper-yell back up to him. He languidly looks at me and smirks, jumping down and landing without a sound.

“Grab on, sweet little field mouse,” he insists, and I wrap my arms around his neck. This time, he seems to bound the side of the building even quicker, the rush of wind zipping past my ears almost eliciting a very unstealthy shriek.

I brush it off as we stand at the window. He traces an intricate sigil on the glass with a single extended claw that silently dissolves to grant us entry.

Inside, the building is all shadowy corridors and muffled voices. At the top of the stairwell, we pause. The drunken laughter of men echoes up along with faint cries from the girl. I move to rush down, but Rukh stops me with a look.

On the table are pamphlets and what looks like propaganda. I nod. Together, we melt into the shadows. Descending silently into the vipers nest, we’re ready to strike.

Suddenly a door swings open and a brutish thug steps out, freezing as his eyes meet mine. Before he can shout, Rukh moves in a blur.

The man gives a brief wet gurgle as Rukhs claws plunge deep into his throat. Dark blood sprays in pulsing spurts as he vainly claws at the gaping wounds. Without a sound, the body drops while the lifeblood still pumps from his ruined neck.

Rukh flicks the steaming crimson fluid from his talons and meets my eyes. The next will do no better, he vows coldly. Heavy footfalls sound from around the corner, and I know reinforcements are coming. But Rukh seems in no hurry, languidly drawing out his macabre banquet for several more seconds.

Three more burly men charge into view, stopping short with curses at the sight of their slain fellow. In unison, they draw their weapons and advance on Rukh.

A cruel smile spreads across Rukhs face, serrated fangs glinting in the gloom. Calmly, he wipes the last traces of blood from his claws before turning to face the doomed men.

Come then, he invites with malignant anticipation.

The thugs roar and rush to their fate. In a blur of savagery, Rukh descends upon them. I turn away, unable to watch the brutal harvest. But their agonized screams are cut mercifully short.

Like a dark avenging wraith, he’s death incarnate, working his way through the building, mercilessly extinguishing the scourge. I follow in his wake, briefly catching glimpses of his lethal work through doorways.

His claws and fangs harvest lives with gruesome efficiency. Each fresh kill seems to empower him, shadows gathering about his hulking form. Blood and viscera stain his black leathers, yet his pace never slows.

The thugs bravado dissolves to primal terror in their final moments as the reaper descends upon them. Their agonized wails are choked short, reduced to mere fuel for Rukhs insatiable hunger. Floor by floor, Rukh purges the building of its cancerous blight, leaving only ravaged corpses behind.

He takes no pleasure in the slaughter. This is simply necessary cleansing. Cold, calculated justice meted out to those whose own depravity brought about their end.

No trace of mercy resides in the smoldering red embers of his eyes. He is the embodiment of retribution, come to reap his due from the damned.

With the final thug dead, he stands over the carnage he has wrought. Closing his eyes, he extends his clawed hands and begins chanting in a guttural demonic tongue. The air around each broken body seems to shudder and warp. Wisps of shadowy essence rise from the corpses as if the stain of their cruel souls is being drawn forth.

The tendrils drift and coil toward Rukhs waiting maw. He inhales deeply, and the dark wisps flow into him like smoke, absorbed into his being. I watch, both horrified and awed, as the demon consumes the spirits of these wicked men. In death, they will nourish the same darkness they served in life. With a satisfied rumble, Rukh turns to me, eyes aglow with dreadful purpose.

We free the captive girl and return her to her family. Only then am I able to find my voice. You certainly made a mess back there, I say pointedly.

Yes, apologies for the disarray, Rukh rumbles. I will be more mindful about tidying up in the future.

His sincere, oblivious response to my sarcasm leaves me speechless. He ripped men apart without hesitation and consumed their very souls! And he worries about being tidy?

With fearsome precision, we go from infestation to infestation, until only the corrupt mayor remains. I’m exhausted as we approach his lavish home on the edge of town. Behind the iron gates and high stone walls, manicured gardens and fountains flourish while the rest of the town languishes.

I peer through the bars at the sprawling mansion, ornately decorated with gold filigree and marble statuary. He hoards the towns resources for himself, I mutter in disgust.

Rukh nods. While the people starve, he feasts. And he diverts clean water to fill his personal bathhouse. His voice drips with contempt.

Looking at the mayors ostentatious abode, his silk finery, and bloated physique, it is clear he has grown fat and complacent on the suffering of his constituents. Tonight, we will relieve him of his ill-gotten comforts.

Lets finish this, I declare, magic flaring around my fists. Rukhs eyes blaze with wrathful anticipation. Side by side, we advance on the mansion gates. The mayors reckoning is at hand.

Rukh pauses with claws poised over a whimpering servant. He seems to consider for a moment, then retracts his hand. You have nothing to hide, he tells him gruffly. “Get out.”

Relief floods through me. Thank you… I reply, placing a gentle hand on his arm. Rukh nods and turns to continue his hunt for the mayor.

We find the cowering official barricaded in his bedchamber. Rukh tears the doors away, facing down the sputtering mayor.

He seizes the shouting mayor and rends his bloated body in two with a savage jerk.

I turn aside, nauseated by the spray of gore.

But another corrupt soul has been purged, and the town liberated.

Perhaps Rukh cannot change his demonic nature. But I no longer think he is the real monster compared to the sinners he purges.