Her eyes bored into mine, locked onto the rat, and then back to me. She slid her hand down to her waist and her jaw dropped down to speak. Peter bum-rushed the woman, pushing her jaw back up, firmly shutting it.

Thump thump thump, three more knocks reverberated throughout the room like bell tolls.

She realized what was happening, I nodded at her, and then I put a finger against my lips to signal silence.The knob had a thin layer of grease. I grimaced, I was going to have to wash that off later.

I opened the door and it creaked like we were in a horror film. Standing in front of me was Max’s dad. He was a whole-head taller than me, the burly man went through a range of emotions until he landed on something appropriate.

“Nate?” He said blinking owlishly.

“Hi?” What the hell was he doing here? How the hell did he know I was here? No, he sounded as confused as I was. The door hit the stopper.

He tried peeking past me. but fortunately the room was designed so that the bed was hidden by the wall that contained the restroom. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

My mind froze. What was I doing here? Helping a injuried women and a talking rat that I’d found at the city fountain?

“What are you doing here?” An exhausted, wretched voice countered.

I realized that voice had come from me. It shocked me, never had I heard myself say something in such a tone.

Mr. Green frowned, “Max told me that you might’ve been...how are you holding up?”

“Nothing, just tired.” It was the truth, I was on the verge of having a mental break from the physical and emotional exhaustion.

He looked me up and down, “You’re covered in…”

“Wine. It’s just wine. I drank on an empty stomach.”

“Are you okay?” He asked. I caught a glimmer of something behind that question. An ulterior motive besides his obvious concern for me? Ockam’s Razor and all, it was obvious that he could just be here because he was concerned.

But did he know? Did someone see me come here? Or was it...damn. Max had sent his father a text to check on me. It was the only reason he would be here, the woman was a complete stranger and the rat hadn’t recognized the city.

“I’m fine, I need to sleep. Please.” I was tempted to slam the door in his face, I was not in the mood for chatter.

“You wouldn’t happened to see any suspicious people around, have you?” He asked.

Shit. Why was he looking for her? What exactly had Max said? Had he been watching me and saw the woman appear? Oh Christ, did Max see me dragging the unconscious woman through the street.

I played it cool, “No? Why do you ask?”

The words came out sounding susp as fuck.

Mr. Green’s eyes flickered to the left, where the staircase was, he opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted.

“Because there’s a dangerous fugitive on the loose,” A cultured British accent cut through the muggy atmosphere.

A wheelchair came into view. The Headmaster of Wyrich University was being pushed by his blonde secretary. On his lap was his inseparable poodle, the little thing was adorable, but the fucker bit anyone that try to pet it.

Now, why the fuck was the Headmaster of the Univeristy here? Was he involved in this magicy business too? It was clear that they were here for her, and I didn’t know what they wanted to do with her. They called her a fugitive, but not all fugitives were bad. I didn’t understand the situation, and I worried that by handing her over, I would feel guilty about it. The phrase Nazi colloborator sprung in mind.

“A fugitive? What does she look like?” I asked.

I noticed an instant change in their mood. The secretary straightened, and Max’s dad looked worried. The only one who hadn’t reacted was the headmaster. I rewound the memory, ‘A fugitive? What does she…’

Oh. Fuck me sideways with a grapefruit. Tom had never mentioned her gender…

Yet there was still a possibility that they had only reacted to me not knowing. If she was a fugitive and they thought I saw her, then how would they react?

I rubbed my temples.

“Black hair, possibly brown, Sarah Thatcher. Five feet and nine inches. Can we come in?”

“Uh-“ They were still being polite? Were they going door to door checking on everyone? Wait, none of this added up.

The Headmaster, his secretary, and Green walk into an inn. They find me in one of the rooms. I accidentally reveal that I do know her, but they continue to act as if nothing actually happened. The mood shift was evident, there was no way these three had missed my fuck-up.

The Headmaster leaned in, “Sound familiar?”

I swallowed a globe of saliva, “No.”

Jessica and Mr. Green glanced at each other.

The Headmaster put on a mask of sympathy, “My condolences for your loss, Mr. Lynwood. I hope you feel better, good nigh-”

“Come on, Nate! I can only stay so hard!” The rat yelled from the back of the room.

My face flushed, that rat was both a curse and a blessing. A blursing.

The secretary hid her laugh behind a series of violent coughs. Max’s dad squirmed, and the Headmaster...

The Headmaster turned his head to the side, put his hand across his nose vertically, and winked cheekily.

I pulled back into the room. Fresh night air had circulated throughout the place, clearing out the left-over aromas from previous inhabitants. I exhaled slowly, letting out the tension from my body. That fucking rat nearly screwed everything up.

“Well that was quite tense.”

I jumped a foot off the ground. Sitting in the window was the most wackiest fucking elf. It sat with its back hunched, too tall to fit in the window. It wore a fancy three piece suit in dark blue, and had leather oxfords on its feet. Its hands were spindly and bonelike, with two times the number of joints than humans had. Its face was the most disturbing of all, it was uncanny valley-esque, a distorted facsimile of a human face that was unsettling. Its head was out of proportion from the rest of its body, a touch too large to look normal. Its eyes were one-and-a-half larger than regular eyes and were an unnatural color, it was a color I had never seen before. The bones in its face were sharp, the cheekbones were sharp enough to slice through the pale veneer of its skin, its jaw tapered into a point that was its chin. Its gender was indeterminable, it looked both female and male, but had spoken with a masculine timbre. It slithered out the window and into the room, its head almost touching the ceiling. It was at least eight feet tall, and its ears had a slight pointiness to them. Its hair was black, cut short and styled like a gentleman from the forties.

“A pleasure to meet you, Nathaniel Lynwood, I am Sharru,” He said. His accent had a distinct cultured middle-eastern lilt. He held his hand out for me to shake.

Remembering my manners, I shook his hand.

“Hmhmhm,” He laughed, “Please, be at ease.”

“Y-yeah, alright, dude,” I said.

“Dude?” He asked.

“Um, yes.” I coughed, my throat felt like two sheets of sandpaper rubbing one another in opposite directions. This was something right out of a Tim Burton film. The way he moved his fingers and limbs, and how his jaw didn’t seem to synch up with the words he was saying.

Sharru muttered something to himself and then clapped his hands together creating a sharp crack like two stones being struck. “Well then,” He turned to the woman lying on the bed, “Sarah Thatcher.”

Sarah was sitting on the bed with her back against the wall, “What.” She said, curt and emotionless. She resembled a beaten and caged dog that wouldn’t hesitate to bite a finger or three off.

“An innocent has been inducted by your hand.” Sharru said, “I shall allow you to choose your sacrifice, your implement or your legs.” The being clasped his hands and awaited a response.

“That’s fucking bullshit!” She growled with a barely contained wrath, “I didn’t ask for his help! Peter should be the one-”

“He is Ben Hauer’s familiar.”

Sarah seethed, “Fuck you!” She said to no one in particular. “I didn’t fucking ask for his help! So why do I get punished what kind of backwards fucking logic do you apes run off of?!” She clutched her side in pain.
Sharru withstood the torrent. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t make a sound, he took it as if she were a child throwing a tantrum.

“Your implement or your legs,” He repeated.

“Fuck you! The fucking implement then! I hope you blow you fucking brain out with it, you fucking ape.”

The gun melted into slag, slipping through her fingers like sand. Then her legs snapped into place, the sick crunch of the ivory was nothing to my emotionally shocked state. Sarah fell on her side, her hands became claws, metaphorical one's mind you, and clawed at the bed. Her face was twisted into a mask of excruciating agony, and her mouth refused to work properly.

Sharru turned to me, “And you my friend,” Sharru said.

I flinched. What was he going to do me?

“I offer you a choice. I can wipe your memory of this ordeal, returning you to your ordinary life.” He waited for me to respond to the offer.

I wasn’t going to take it. If magic was real, and there was a whole world out there, there was more to life than what society dictated. I had a chance to live a life worth living. I wasn’t going to be just another gravestone in sixty years and a memory for the few people that knew me.

Sharru smiled softly, “Or would you prefer to become a part of this world?”

Sarah had composed herself, pushing herself back up, she shook her head vehemently. She didn’t want me to be a part of this. Maybe she’s right and it wasn’t worth it, but what did I have left to lose? The rest of my life? I was dealing with mephistopheles in a way, sell my soul for something amazing, or continue living in ignorance.

“I…” I frowned. What would happen if I did join this world? To get inducted as he said it? Would I lose contact with my friends and family?

This was a chance to get away from this crappy, habitual, boring-as-hell life. What was there for me anyway? Finishing my education? Finding a woman I love…

My heart fell from its perch, punching deep into my gut.

Push it away. I exhaled slowly, alieving a degree of the pain.

She was dead.

I closed my eyes.

This whole thing had distracted me from the toxic chemical soup churning in my belly. This is what I wanted: an escape. Better to die young than become a geriatric, dependent on somebody else to continue living in extended agony. I feared becoming a prisoner in my body, too old to do anything, besides eat, shit, and sleep.

But with a world of magic?

I didn’t know anything about it, I couldn’t even believe this was happening, but I wanted to. This was an escape from monotony, from waking up every morning, going to university, or work for that matter, 9-5, a slave with freedom was still a slave.

“I want to—” I looked at the rat, and then to Sarah, she was shaking her head. “I want to do this, join, or whatever, get inducted into whatever this is. Though I’ll probably regret it.” I couldn’t help but chuckle darkly.

“Everybody does,” Sharru said. “And I believe I’ll try your suggestion at a more convenient time, Ms. Sarah.” He took out an old timey pocket-watch, “Hm, it seems another appointment in the same city, how rare. Farewell.” Like a spider you take your eyes off for a second, he was gone.

“Well—fuck me,” Sarah grumbled.

Peter gave her a creepy rat grin, “That an offer?”

She glowered at him.

“Hi,” I said.

She cocked her head back, her eyes studying me, “Thanks for helping, I guess.”

“It’s nothing,” I dismissed with a wave.

We both knew that was a lie.

The rat stood on its hind legs,“Welcome to hell! Buffet’s to the left, vomitorium to the right, pig-pinching and debraining only available to lords and ladies, take a seat.”

Sarah gave the rat a look that seemed practiced.

“What’s the deal then, like, how does magic work. Can we do magic? Mindwipe and fireballs and stuff? Or is it like familiars?” Could I get a familiar like Peter? I didn’t mind the rat, but having my own familiar sounded pretty cool. What would I get? A wolf? Owl? How did it work?

“Familiars are the easiest to obtain, but also the most dangerous. They can fuck you up if you’re not careful.” Sarah said.

Right… “How exactly…”

“Me and my...friend,” She turned her face away, “Studied a few sorceries and the side effects. Familiars are the easiest to create, but if you’re not careful, they can usurp you. Which just means they can free themselves and if you’re unlucky, they’ll kill you.”

“The ones that get killed are pieces of shit that deserve it,” Peter said, “And by the time we can get that powerful we’re more bestial, or humanoid, but that’s rare.”

“Only in appearance,” Sarah added. Which was a pretty important detail.

“Familiars get stronger?” I asked.

Peter nodded, “We start off smarter than your smartest dog, and if a master or a familiar eat enough the familiar gets stronger. I got to eat three livers and a heart before I could speak.”

“Much to our regret,” Sarah said dryly.

“What kind of livers?” I asked hesitantly.

“Human!” He said with a worrying amount of enthusiasm.

“And then, after that the uh, what’s it called?” The rat asked Sarah.

“The primary stage and before that is what’s called genesis. Also, doesn’t have to be human, it depends though. Things from...you know what, I’ll tell you later.”

The rat ploughed on, “After the primary stage we begin to enter secondary phase! That’s when we have to eat a lot and we slowly start to morph! And then we hit our terminal state, and that’s when we can eat our masters! Or become partners and kick tons of ass! And then eat their asses! And grow even stronger asses!”

“Right,” I said. It was a lot to take in, but it was pretty simple to begin with. Ass eating sounded easy enough. Ha ha.

“We need to get out of here,” Sarah said as she rolled her shoulders.

I groaned internally. “They don’t know you’re here, wouldn’t it be safer to stay?”
She shook her head, “We need to go while it’s dark and they’re gone. They won’t expect us to leave right after they’ve gone.”

“And if they’re watching us?”

A cheshire grin crawled with her lips. Sarah reached into her jacket and drew out a disfigured bone that was forearm length. There were tumours growths, ribbed edges, and at the opposite end of where she held it were outcroppings of ivory that came off like pointing tentacles.

Peter stepped away, “They’re not hunting us because we skipped customs.”