Artyom Dereschuk - Hate the Sin

“There you go,” Desecrator said, taking the ammunition from the boy’s hands. Puppy Slayer heard him reloading.

“All right, we’re good to go. You go first and I’ll cover you,” he heard the boy say.

“Go where?” Puppy Slayer clarified.

“What?” Desecrator asked him.

“Where do we go?” Puppy Slayer repeated, talking louder.

“To the exit, you dummy! The General will be there if he gets out,” Desecrator taunted him. Puppy Slayer got more hopeful when he heard that “if” in Desecrator’s remark.

“Yes, but where is it?” he asked, choosing not to mention Desecrator’s slip of tongue.

There was a pause, and then he felt Desecrator’s hand turn him around and push him: “There. Lead the way. I’m right behind you.”

Reluctantly, Puppy Slayer started walking. His field of vision was limited to some fifteen, maybe twenty feet at best, and his eyesight served him only to warn him about the incoming tree or a rock he risked tripping on. As far as the potential threats were concerned, his ears provided him with a better picture of what was going on around him.

At any moment he was expecting to hear the weird grass rustle as something charged toward him, or to pick up the signs of a distant battle taking place. Most of all, he was hoping to hear the footsteps of other boys—Tsetse, Corpse Eater, or Homewrecker. Seeing how dismissive Desecrator was toward their captain, he didn’t know why Desecrator had run away. But perhaps the boys had listened to the Captain’s advice right away? Perhaps they ran away as soon as the fight had started, and were now waiting for him somewhere? Perhaps Tsetse, who ordered them to retreat, was searching for them around the underworld? He couldn’t just tell them to run away without any further plans, right?

The questions buzzed inside his head as the boy desperately hoped that some of those guesses would come true. That someone would come and take away his heavy burden of having to endure this reality on his own. Even though he wasn’t alone anymore, he had a strong suspicion that Desecrator couldn’t be trusted. That the vile boy who had been taking pleasure in killing and pillaging, who bullied and tortured him for years couldn’t just change, especially in a place like they were in. If anything, this place should’ve taught him that he was on the right track. That violence was indeed a very viable strategy when it came to problem-solving, and the darkness of the Underworld—not the literal, but metaphysical, the rotten underbelly of that plain—had found an easy way into his soul, drawing out his dark desires and fueling them further. Some places had that effect on people. Some places were supposed to never be visited, no matter how sure you were in your own goodwill, or they would bring out the worst in you.

Why did he need him though? What was he planning?

“You know, when we get to the surface I’m gonna tell the General how it is,”—Desecrator mused behind him. “That Tsetse has told us to run away when the enemy would attack us. I’m sure he won’t be the captain’s favorite for long after that.”

“Uh-huh,” Puppy Slayer replied on auto-pilot. His head was spinning from thinking; why would Desecrator risk his life for him? But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered: Did Desecrator really risk anything? He had all the ammunition.

But why, why keep him around? He could’ve just taken all the ammo and left, and he knew that Puppy Slayer wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Why keep him?

“Sure, we might be short on people, but he won’t forgive such a betrayal. He is a wise man, but I always knew that he was a bit too sentimental when it came to looking the truth in the eye. But you know how it goes, right?” He waited a bit for a reply and then nonchalantly continued: “When he’s gone, I’m sure the General will choose me as your captain. He and I—we had a moment there, on the battlefield. I’m sure he felt that as well. As soon as we reach the surface things will change, Puppy. You won’t be able to hide behind Tsetse’s delicate ass. I will make a man out of you.” The last sentence sounded like a declaration, and Puppy Slayer felt uneasy.

Something moved in the bushes nearly, and Puppy Slayer involuntarily kneeled. A moment later Desecrator walked into him.

“What the hell? Why aren’t you walking?” the boy wondered.

“There’s something moving in those bushes,” the boy informed him. “Do you hear it?”

Desecrator didn’t reply. Looking in the direction Puppy Slayer had shown him, he slowly raised his gun and circled around the kneeling boy, so that he would be between him and the threat.

“Good hearing.” He patted Puppy Slayer on the head, and the boy finally got it.

Desecrator was shell-shocked. He didn’t hear the bushes because he couldn’t—the blasts that the boy had heard before must’ve left him dazed. At that moment, Puppy Slayer was his only guide in the world where hearing was paramount for survival. And judging by the maneuver that Desecrator had made, putting the younger boy between him and the threat, the boy also doubled as a living shield.

Was that why Desecrator made him go first? Puppy Slayer was sure of that now. If they walked into some dangerous situation, Puppy Slayer would be the one to face the consequences, while Desecrator would be able to escape unharmed—with an entire ammo clip to boot.

Desecrator was always quick to pick up after the General. It seemed that he was quick to learn how to use others for his own gain, too.

Puppy Slayer could only be resigned to his fate. He knew that there was no other way out for him. He had been a gutless fool when he gave Desecrator all of his ammunition. Now he had to pay the price for it. Not a new concept to him, but it felt frustrating that other boys were already using him as well. Soon he would be the only one who wouldn’t be a grown-up. Him and Death Herald. Quite a pair.

The noise in the bushes subsided, and when it became clear that whatever was there wouldn’t follow them Desecrator, gave Puppy Slayer a slight nudge: “Let’s go. It was nothing.”

Puppy Slayer wasn’t so sure, but nevertheless he obeyed and started walking.

Episodes like that repeated a few times, and each time the boys were lucky; it wasn’t something dangerous. While the hunters above tried to attract their attention with screams and the mad pipers made their heads spin with their incessant music, the boys didn’t meet any serious threats. Puppy Slayer had a strong suspicion that most of them were at the battlefield, to feast on the spoils of war.

They walked and walked, but they didn’t see anything familiar in sight. They didn’t see the familiar statues of the Giants, or the tunnels that led outside, or the footprints of the brigade. And no matter how far they walked they couldn’t even get to the wall.

“Where the hell is it… We should’ve reached something by now!” Desecrator growled in frustration. Puppy Slayer pulled his head in; somehow, he felt that the boy would start venting his frustration on him very soon.

As they kept on walking Puppy Slayer got more and more scared—it was obvious that they were lost. Had they walked in the same direction they would’ve found the brigade’s footprints by now, and then they could navigate them to find the exit. But there were no footprints. The trail, if it hadn’t been erased by some unknown forces altogether by now, continued to elude them.

Which meant that they would have to change their course. But Desecrator, however, didn’t give him such a command. Was he expecting the boy to find their way out on his own?

“I don’t think this is the right way,” Puppy Slayer quietly told Desecrator.

“Oh yeah? Do you know a better one?” Desecrator sarcastically inquired.