Creep- Chapter 10

The world returned in a whirl of sound. The whistling of the cold wind and the speaking of voices. Three, maybe four. Creep opened his eyes. The penthouse looked as though it had been torn apart from the inside out. Bits and pieces of its interior, a part of the couch, a broken picture frame, lay scattered across the porch.

“ ‘ello ‘ere!” a ridiculously cockneyed voice called out.

Creep squinted through the blowing snow. Three shapes came into view, one short, two tall. One of the tall ones had some girth to it. A hand went to his back pocket and found an ammo clip. He shoved it in his gun and cocked it. The shapes emerged from the swirling snow, stepping out from it as though it were a veil.

Two men and a troll stood before Creep. The men were dressed well, one in a long brown jacket, the other in a short white coat. The troll was about as well dressed as a troll could be. It picked at its nose with a warty finger, taking care to wipe what it found in the snow. The man in the white coat stepped forward.

“So, you just won’t stop, will you?” he asked. This man did not speak with the cockney accent. Rather, his voice was Southern, with a slight twang of culture to it. Now that he had stepped forward, Creep recognized the man. He was the one who had thrown him out of the window at the party, the tower of a man who had not been touched by any bullets.

“You’re getting to be quite the thorn in my side,” the man continued. “First you crash my party, and now you shoot up a friend’s place. I thought you would just burn yourself out quick, but now it looks like I’m going to have to help you along.”

The man’s words were not what Creep wanted to here. One gloved hand reached down into the snow for a pistol. He bent up with his weapon and began to reload. The man was putting on a mask. It was white as the snow, save for black painted on eyes and a smile. The paint had run when it had been put on, giving the mask a macabre quality.

“What’s your name?” the man asked Creep. His voice sounded different now, as though this was another aspect of him talking.

“Creep,” came the reply as the boy put a fresh magazine into his pistol.

“Hm, interesting,” the man said. “Almost alike, and yet so different.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve got a name too.”

“So?” Creep asked as he raised the gun to shoot the man. “What is it?”

“Plague.”

The sound of the gun was deafening, even out on the open rooftop. Plague was in the air almost instantly, without any mark to show that Creep’s bullet had managed to strike him. He somersaulted through the air. Creep aimed higher and pulled the trigger again. The lone piece of flying metal did nothing to stop the progress of the tumbling man before him.

Plague landed, sending up a cloud of snow. Creep pulled off another shot, but he could not be sure of where it went. Plague lunged out of the swirling white mass, a boot aiming right for Creep. It struck the boy’s hands, sending his gun flying in one direction and him in the other.

Creep skidded in the snow and struck the guardrail. The metal bar dug into his back and made him grimace with pain. He scrambled to his feet, looking around for his gun. It lay on the other side of the porch, black handle sticking out of the snow.

With a lunge, Creep went for the gun. He slipped on the snow, trying to get up and scramble his way across the slippery surface. A kick to the ribs stopped him; throwing him onto his back gasping for air. Plague reached down and grabbed Creep’s shirt, hoisting him up into the air. With barely any effort, he tossed him over his back towards his companions.

Creep landed at the feet of the troll. The large monster brought its fist down to try to smash Creep’s chest. The boy rolled over to one side, tripping up the other man in the process. A pistol fell from the man’s grip and landed in the snow right in front of Creep. He reached out for it, but the troll kicked it away. It raised its foot up again to try to crush Creep’s hand, but the boy rolled away again and scrambled to his feet. He charged the troll, using sheer momentum to knock it to the ground.

The troll flailed about, gibbering in its own language as it tried to right itself. Creep turned back to the other man, forgetting all about Plague. The other man was going for the gun he had dropped earlier. Creep threw himself after him, landing on top of him with a loud snarl. He sprung off of the other man, jumping on the gun. He came up shooting.

The man was the first to fall, a shot to the heart stopping him in his tracks. A primal growl escaped from Creep as he pulled the trigger. He saw the troll, recovered from his blow, charging at him, Plague close behind. He pulled the trigger again, aiming for the troll’s body. The massive creature flinched, but barely slowed down. Aiming a little higher, Creep fired again. This time the troll fell, slamming into the porch and sending up a cloud of snow.

Creep pointed the gun at Plague and pulled the trigger. There was a sickening click as the hammer slammed on an empty chamber. ‘You’re kidding me,’ Creep thought to himself in the second before Plague collided with him. A knee to the chest, a fist to the cheek, a foot to a groin, all delivered so fast and so brutal that Creep had no time to even think about defending himself. He crumpled to the ground, Plague standing over him. The older man put a boot on his head.

“This is it,” he said.

The sound of massive wings rose above the wind. Plague stepped off of Creep and backed away. The boy looked around. Something had landed on the porch. It took a few seconds for Creep to see what it was through the blowing snow, but when he did see his heart froze in his chest. It was a dragon. But not just any dragon. Creep had the distinct feeling that this was the dragon he had met before, the one that had put him out of action for three solid months.

“What’s your business?” Plague asked with about as mean a tone as one can use when talking to a dragon.

“That one,” the dragon said, pointing down at Creep. The boy tensed up, unsure of what this meant.

“He’s one of yours?” Plague asked, his voice rising a little, “Cause Glaucer, if he is…”

“He is not one of mine,” the dragon said, walking forward towards Creep. “Not yet.”

“I’m not through with him yet. He’s got deeds to answer for.”

“You’ll just have to wait,” the dragon said. He reached down and grabbed Creep by his jacket and shirt, lifting him into the air. Plague was standing there. Though his mask displayed no emotion, it was obvious that he was angry. He pointed at Creep.

“This isn’t over, kid. I own this city. You attack it, you mess with me. I’ll finish this with you, bet on that.”

Creep tried to think of something witty to say, but the pounding in his head made that impossible. The best he could manage was a weak wave before the dragon took to the skies. Struggle was useless; Creep kicked around, but he was too weak from the fight to do anything to get the dragon to put him down. In the end, stars swam in front of his eyes, and he blacked out while gazing at the snow lined streets below.

For those of you who may have noticed a few changes as far as storyline goes, details not right, etc., that is intentional. Things are changing in the earlier chapters as I write along. It will all be continuous in the end though. Just bear with me