Chapter 96: The Boy Who Killed
"JOHN, STOP!" Dexter yelled.
Instead of stopping, John broke into a sprint and rushed into an abandoned parking garage.
"Fuck this," Dexter cursed, aiming his bow at John’s feet.
He didn’t want to hurt his teammate, but Dexter was more worried about Aiden’s reaction if he learned of the situation.
After seeing how ruthless Aiden could be with those who failed his expectations, the only thing that stayed in his mind was what Aiden had said to him the day he was chosen as the leader of the enforcers.
The thought of being punished pushed Dexter over the edge, and he let go of the bowstring.
"No!" Michelle screamed, lunging at Dexter at the last second.
Dexter had been aiming for a warning shot next to John’s calves. But Michelle’s sudden push raised the bow at the last possible second.
The arrow shot out, and instead of harmlessly hitting the ground, it pierced through John’s thigh.
"ARGH!" John screamed as his right leg gave out.
Blood stained his jeans as he reached for the shaft. Foolishly, he pulled at it, making the injury even worse.
"You idiot!" Dexter snapped at Michelle.
"Don’t curse at me when you were going to shoot him!" Michelle shot back.
"Yeah, I was aiming at the ground, not his damn thigh! It was a warning shot, for fuck’s sake."
Pushing her aside, Dexter rushed to John’s side with Myra right behind. John had both hands wrapped around his thighs. He bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming again and attract monsters.
Even though John was in pain, Dexter was relieved that the arrow didn’t catch on fire like it did in his spar with the ghoul. He didn’t even want to imagine what would happen to John if that had happened.
"Stop touching it if you don’t want to make it worse," Myra said, pulling John’s hands away from the wound.
Together, they turned John onto his side. Thankfully, the arrow had gone clean through the outer part of the thigh. The bone was untouched, or the injury would have been a lot worse.
"Get a first aid kit and bandage the wound," Dexter instructed Myra, but she didn’t seem willing.
It was understandable. Even the basic first aid kit costs two caps. Who would use their own money to fix someone else’s mistake in a ruined world?
Dexter was the one who fired the shot. John was the one who got injured because of his own wife’s rushed response, so why should she pay for the first aid kit?
"It’s sold out in my shop," Dexter said, hurriedly grabbing two caps from his inventory. "Here, use these."
Only after getting the caps did Myra even bother checking her shop. Dexter shook his head, and as he did, he noticed something.
A boy was standing at the far end of the parking garage. From his height and build, he didn’t look much older than Lily. But what was a kid doing there all alone?
"Patch him up," he said, stepping towards the child. "I’ll be right back."
"Dexter—"
Myra tried to stop him, sensing something was off about the child. But Dexter was already on the move. Meanwhile, the boy tilted his head and kept watching him get closer.
"Hey," he said, crouching to get on the child’s eye level. "What are you doing down here by yourself?"
The boy didn’t reply, just looked Dexter up and down. Dexter looked back over his shoulder. Myra and Michelle both were trying to patch John up, but Myra’s eyes kept darting towards him.
Dexter didn’t want to believe that something was off with the child, but everything was screaming at him that it was the case.
Wait, what’s that smell? Blood?
He looked at the boy. His clothes were torn, but there were no visible wounds. Yet the scent of blood was unmistakable.
His gaze fell past the boy, and he saw... two figures crumbled on the floor. At first, he thought it was a goblin corpse and that a hunter must have left their child behind. But who would be so cruel?
As he was lost in his thoughts, he felt the boy touch his side. Dexter didn’t react at first, not until the pain hit.
"The hell—"
Dexter looked down to see a horrifying sight. The boy’s entire arm below the elbow had turned into a bone-like spear, and the tip of it was painted red with blood... Dexter’s blood.
"What are you..." he mumbled, staggering backwards, and fell to his knees.
Only then did he notice that the corpses he thought to be goblins were of humans chopped in half.
"Dexter!" Myra yelled, hurling John’s makeshift spear at the boy.
The spear hit the boy before harmlessly falling on the ground. Myra was stunned. She had used the same throw to kill three goblins yesterday, yet the boy didn’t even register the attack?
Well, it wasn’t entirely true. The boy did register the attack and turned to face her. A moment later, the boy’s arm returned to normal, only leaving his fingers calcified.
However, instead of attacking Myra, the boy turned a finger towards Dexter’s thigh. Before anyone could react, the finger shot out of his arm like a bullet, hitting Dexter’s thigh.
"Argh! Fucking hell!" Dexter grunted in pain, trying to scratch the finger out.
Yet the more he tried, the deeper the finger crawled in. It was almost as if the finger had a mind of its own and crawled deeper to cause as much pain as possible.
"Stay," the boy said to Dexter before raising his other hand towards Myra and the others.
A second later, all five fingers fired towards them. Before they could dodge, Michelle had one finger pierce through her shoulder before pinning her to the wall behind her.
Myra had dropped to the ground, squirming in pain. But John was in the worst position. Wanting to save Michelle, he had pushed her away at the last moment. His bravery earned him three finger bones, right in the chest as he lay on his back... not moving.
"You bastard!"
Dexter fought through the pain and nocked an arrow before shooting the boy. The arrow hit the boy in the shoulder and burst into flames.
The fire spread from the point of impact, engulfing the boy in flames. Dexter kept staring at the burning figure and knew something was off.
Even the most sturdy goblins would howl in pain of being burned alive, yet the boy before him remained calm until the fire burned out... leaving a figure covered in skeletal armor.
The boy looked down at his burning shoulder, then grabbed the arrow by the shaft and pulled it out in one move.
"Why does everyone keep attacking me?" he asked, tossing the arrow aside.
Dexter was too shocked to say anything. A moment later, the boy’s arm changed again, and his entire arm turned into a bone spear.
"Wait—!"
The boy didn’t wait and drove his hand straight into his chest. Dexter clawed at the spear, only for the boy to lift him up like a kebab on a skewer and toss him aside as everything went dark.