Creep rose up on shaky legs, body covered in the gore of The Nail, berserker mindset already falling away again. The boy was rising up once more within him. Concetta walked over to him, approaching slowly and watching his every move. One deep breath was all that Creep could take in. Then he collapsed back to his knees in the middle of the remains of The Nail, making a sickening squish as he did so.
He shook all over, body convulsing and breaking out into a cold sweat. Concetta reached out to touch him, but he fell over on one side with a little whimper, like that of a hurt dog, and lay there in all the blood.
“How?” Concetta asked. “How can the whelp that was here for three months sniveling like a babe be the same person that did this?”
All that she received in response was a slight cough and a slight spasm from Creep. His mind was occupied with other things now. The blood, all of the blood, a great puddle spread out on the floor. All because of him. He had stormed in, he had fought The Nail, and he had reduced her to this with his bare hands. Would it ever stop?
Concetta hurried to the door and leaned out into the hall. “Proskannaeo! Get some water and towels in here now! Have Boll bring some buckets too!”
But what could would that do, Creep asked himself. There was so much blood, too much to clean up.
Concetta came back over to Creep. She tugged at his arm, trying to pull him to his feet.
“Quit your blathering,” she said. “You kill someone, you need to be able to live with it.”
“But, all of the blood,” Creep finally said.
“Yes, there’s a lot of blood,” Concetta replied. “That happens when you take off half a body’s face using your fists.”
Creep allowed Concetta to pull him to his feet. Standing was hard; his legs seemed to be made of both pudding and of marble, both impossible to move and yet all too prone to collapsing. Putting his arm over her shoulders Concetta led him over to the bed and sat him down. She stood in front of him, her arms crossed and her tail flicking in earnest.
“You’re going to tell me what’s up,” Concetta said. Creep shook his head, this wasn’t the time for explanations. Concetta raked him across the cheek with her claws. He fell back and cried out in pain. Without flinching she took him by the shirt collar and sat him back up again.
“Tell me,” she said, her eyes burning into him.
Two enchanted, a Nereid with blue tinted skin and an Anubite with a jackal’s head, came into the room with towels and buckets of water. Concetta whirled on them.
“Get out,” she said with a snarl. They put down the buckets and towels and left as fast as they could. Concetta turned back to Creep. A ghastly expression was on his face. She shook him until he looked up at her.
“I won’t harbor someone who’ll snap on me,” she said. “No matter how harmless they look.”
“I won’t hurt you,” Creep said.
“How do I know that?” Concetta demanded.
“Have you ever traveled from one world to another?” Creep asked.
“What?” Concetta asked. “No, I’ve no need of Gatekeepers. Why is this important?”
“Because if you haven’t, there’s no need to kill you.”
“So you kill customers of Gatekeepers?”
“I kill those who killed first,” Creep said. “You have not been away from here, you did not kill. But some did. And I will kill them.”
Concetta paused. “You’re not from the City?”
Creep shook his head. “I’m from whatever world it is your city travels to.”
Concetta turned away, her tail flicking ever faster now. It didn’t matter to Creep. What would be known would be known if it was what fate had designed. And yet while he lived by it, he did not trust that same fate that had brought him here to an uncertain campaign.
“You’re here for revenge?” Concetta asked. Creep nodded, his hands shaking and clammy.
Concetta sighed and walked across the room towards the door. Creep began to calm down. He swallowed the lump in his throat as Concetta locked the door, sealing them both in the room. She walked over to the towels that the two enchanted had left in the room and grabbed one. Creep watched her as she strode back to him, taking off her shirt as she walked. Remembering modesty he looked away, but Concetta came up to him and turned his head back to her. He tried to resist, but she would not allow him.
“You’re a mess,” she said as she began to wipe off the blood. He didn’t know what she was doing. Adolescent hormones surged through him and told him to do one thing, while his mind told him to do another. Concetta kept after him, cleaning off the remains of his deed. Then, she let the blood-stained towel fall to the floor.
Creep tried to get up, but Concetta pushed him back down to the bed. She pushed him back on it and climbed on after him, straddling him and stroking his face. There was resistance on his part, but she ignored it and began to kiss him, licking his lips with her rough tongue. Creep pulled away, tried to get some space between the two of them. Yet Concetta held him close.
“You need this,” she said, reaching a hand down to undo the button on his pants. “Believe it or not, you need it. You can’t survive all this killing without it.”
Creep wanted to protest this, wanted to say that he could go on without committing this act. And yet, he knew that he could not. If he was going to fall apart like this every time he killed, then the vengeance he so desired would go unfulfilled. So, in the end, he gave up and let Concetta do what she wanted.
So, amid the perfume and the blood, Concetta undressed Creep, in more ways than one. She took him: body, heart, and soul.
Thus ends Act 1 of the story of Creep.
You, sir, are grounded for a week. I've told you time and again, haven't I? Seems I wasn't clear enough. Let us review the sentence beginning with 'then'
