Artyom Dereschuk - Hate the Sin

“Slacking off?” He heard a familiar voice behind. Corpse Eater approached him and stretched him hand forward. Taking another heavy hit, Homewrecker passed him the cigarette, and upon grabbing it Corpse Eater raised it in a gesture of appreciation.

“This is seriously messed up,” he said after a few moments of silence. Homewrecker simply nodded. “I couldn’t get a moment of sleep last night,” Corpse Eater continued. “I kept seeing those things as soon as I closed my eyes. They are… something else. What do you think the General’s going to do?”

Homewrecker shook his shoulders. “Knowing him, he’d probably try to kill every last villager who survived.”

“You think he shouldn’t do that?” Corpse Eater suddenly asked.

Homewrecker paused; he wasn’t sure he knew the answer, but something about how nonchalantly his friend asked that question irked him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he finally said. “That would only make things worse. Plus, I don’t think the adults will approve. They’re scared shitless. I’ve never heard them cry out in their sleep.”

“Yes, when they are on the receiving end they suddenly lose their spirit,” Corpse Eater summed up.

He was passing Homewrecker his cigarette back when something suddenly moved under the stairs. The boys clearly heard the shuffling of soles against the dusty concrete. The cigarette fell to the ground, never reaching its target.

“Screw that” Homewrecker blurted out and turned around to rush for the exit. Just in time to come face-to-face with Tsetse.

“Move!” Homewrecker tried to push past him, but Tsetse stopped him: “What’s the rush?” the captain calmly demanded.

“There’s something under the stairs, move!” Homewrecker didn’t give up trying to squeeze in between the captain and the door, but just as he managed that the older boy grabbed him by the shoulder: “If it was one of the demons that attacked us last night then you’d be dead already,” he concluded, looking Homewrecker in the eye. “Don’t you think?” he added, and the boy felt pulled back into the room. It was not his muscles that pulled him in, but the gravity of the captain’s commanding gaze.

“Fine,” he said as he entered the room, his head hanging low. “Go take a look,” Tsetse ordered Corpse Eater, pointing at the staircase. The boy hesitated for a second, but seeing as the captain was calm and his barrel was aimed at the ground, he obeyed.

Homewrecker was nervous; what would they find there? He prayed that it was just a rat, attracted to the smell of death by its life-sustaining lack of good taste. However, the expression on his friend’s face wasn’t relief or shock. It was genuine surprise.

“Holy shit! What the hell are you doing there?” Corpse Eater exclaimed.

Slowly and carefully, throwing a concerned glance from beneath the stairs, Desecrator crawled out from under the stairs. His tired expression told Homewrecker that he had spent the entire night there, without an ounce of sleep, listening to the demons walk right above him in their search of the next prey. But there wasn’t a sign of relief on the boy’s face; he was shamefully hiding his eyes from the boys, and he turned his head away when he realized that Tsetse was in the room as well.

“We thought that you were dead,” Homewrecker said, bewildered. “Have you been hiding there the entire time?”

“No,” the boy said, still hiding his eyes. “I saw those creatures attack the base and ran here to join the rest of the soldiers.”

“You saw what?” Corpse Eater was confused. “You were right behind us, and then you were gone. When exactly did you see the attack? And why would you run here?”

“I saw it when they attacked those guys who were playing cards,” Desecrator explained.

“And you didn’t try to warn us?” The disappointment in Corpse Eater’s voice was immeasurable. “Seriously? We could’ve been killed!” he angrily exclaimed. “We were looking for you!”

“I tried to warn you, but you didn’t hear,” Desecrator said. “After that I was attacked and had to run off here.”

“Bullshit!” Corpse Eater was getting worked up. “We looked around and we didn’t see either you or any of those things. You fucking coward! You must’ve hid while we were fighting for our lives!”

“I ain’t no coward.” Desecrator looked up, trying to remain stoic, but his gaze was wondering. “I fought them here, okay? I was fighting them upstairs with the rest of the troops. So don’t push your luck.”

“Where’s your gun?” Tsetse suddenly asked, his commanding tone interrupting the flow of the conversation. Desecrator looked at him with wide eyes, and Homewrecker could see that, for a moment, the boy was thinking over an answer.

“My gun?” Desecrator’s eyes darted down for a second before he replied: “I lost it somewhere.”

“You lost your gun,” Tsetse repeated. “A gun that you have found somewhere, I presume. You lost it while fighting for your life.”

“What’s with the interrogation?” Desecrator burst into anger. “Yes, I lost it. It was crazy here, all right?”

Tsetse remained unfazed by the boy’s outburst. He simply shook his head, making Desecrator grit his teeth, and headed for the exit.

“Thinking when to fight and when to run will do you good in the future” Tsetse told Homewrecker on his way out. “Right, Desecrator?” he added before leaving the room.

Homewrecker glanced at Desecrator; the boy was livid with anger, but he didn’t say anything to the captain. He was not willing to start a fight he was not going to win. Even though he had been shaken by the events of the previous night, Homewrecker felt nothing but disgust for him.

“Come on, man, let’s get out of here,” Homewrecker told Corpse Eater, following Tsetse. “It smells like piss in here.”

The left the room, and Desecrator didn’t follow them. As they were leaving the building, Homewrecker heard the thump of a fist hitting the concrete wall.

Outside there seemed to be some commotion; the adults were gathering from the entire camp, abandoning what they were doing, converging onto one spot. There, the boys saw the General standing, and one of the creature’s bodies was lying in front of him on the ground.

“Did so many die last night?” Puppy Slayer heard the man talking as he came closer. “I reckoned more of you had survived.”

“There were more survivors, my General” one of the men answered. The boy could hear that he didn’t want to be the one to bring the bad news. “But many of the soldiers have… deserted you. Killmonger took twenty or so men with him and took off early this morning.”

“I see,” the General said grimly. “They’ll get what’s coming to them.”

The General carefully approached the monster’s corpse, his bodyguards just one step behind him. He observed the carcass for a few seconds, before kicking it and taking a quick step back, fearing that it might come back to life once more and lunge at him. Nothing happened.

Nevertheless, he raised his gun, aimed for a few seconds, and then landed a well-placed shot into the creature’s cranium. It didn’t grunt or squeal—it had indeed been dead and not just pretending. Despite the fact that he did not root for the General, Puppy Slayer let out a sigh of relief and, to his surprise, heard it echo across the rows of grown soldiers.

The General kneeled near the creature, scratched his chin. His finger started to trace the carcass’ limbs, poked its long claw, turned its head to take a better look at its face. A man in his forties.

“Anyone recognize him?” he asked the crowd of soldiers behind him.