chapter three... stench

11:37 PM.

That was the time when I neared the clocktower, my hood drawn over my head, blending into the maze of shadowed alleyways and low rooftops. The chill of the night pressed against me, but I moved with purpose—silent, swift, unseen. I came to a halt when a public broadcast flared to life on a massive screen nearby.

*"The military has continued to suppress more Wraiths. The remaining population is now estimated at 15%."*

A chorus of cheers erupted from the scattered onlookers. I scoffed, walking past without a second glance. The Barrens were never bustling with people, and for good reason. Scarcity was its defining trait—food, healthcare, shelter, even basic human dignity. Death was not an anomaly here; it was routine, a weekly inevitability. But the greatest deterrent, the reason the Barrens remained a desolate wasteland, was its location—perched at the city's edge, beyond which lay something far worse than poverty.

Wraiths.

I had never seen one. Never believed in them. Never cared. They were myths, ghosts of some elaborate fear-mongering tale. And yet, if they were real, if they were as monstrous as described, then modern technology shouldn't have been able to contain them. But according to the reports, we had. That inconsistency alone made me doubt their existence. When a story doesn't add up, it's usually not true.

I reached the clocktower's heavy metal door. Up close, the rhythmic groan of its enormous gears filled the air, a mechanical heartbeat ticking toward an inevitable end. **11:42 PM.** I exhaled slowly before stepping inside.

The interior was a labyrinth of steel and glass—staircases, escalators, elevators—an architectural marvel. The elevator always intrigued me, though I had never stepped foot inside one. I had heard stories, grim ones, about what happened in those confined spaces. So, I took the stairs instead. Definitely not because I was stalling.

Truth be told, I was terrified. I knew what awaited me at the top. But I had made my choice. I would hand myself over.

And so, I climbed.

At the top floor, just above the restricted level where the gears turned, I pushed open a long-sealed door. Accidents had made this floor off-limits, but tonight, it was my final destination.

*"Ah, Caster."*

The voice sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to see a familiar face—one that had once been a friend. Now? I wasn't sure where he stood. I had betrayed his boss, after all.

*"Welcome. The boss has been expecting you."* He smiled as he stepped closer, resting a firm hand on my shoulder. *"If you behave, the worst you'll get is a good beating. If you don't... well, let's just say the only casualty will be you. Understand?"*

His smile never wavered as he gestured toward a smaller door. *"He's in there."*

I swallowed hard, forcing my mask of confidence back into place. But as I stepped forward, the door looming before me, a deep, hoarse voice shattered that illusion.

*"Caster, my boy. Come in."*

He sat at the far end of the room, facing the city skyline through a massive glass wall. From my perspective, he was looking to the right, lost in the beauty of the night. In his hand, he swirled a glass of fruit juice—of all things. He was not what I expected. Not overweight, not a brute. Instead, he was lean, muscular, and strikingly handsome, his blonde hair catching the ambient light.

*"Quite a view, isn't it?"* He took a sip.

I stepped inside, and the door shut behind me with a quiet but final *click.*

*"Why did you do it?"*

He didn't look at me as he spoke. Just another sip, another pause. But silence wasn't an option. Not with him.

*"You were going to leave us for dead,"* I said, anger barely masking my fear. *"After everything I did for you."*

*"Ah. So you sold the secrets entrusted to you—to my competition."*

My fists clenched.

*"I did it to protect my family. What happened to you didn't matter to me—just as I assumed the feeling was mutual."*

The shift in the room was immediate. The five other men present stiffened, as if even they feared where this conversation was headed.

The boss finally turned, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.

*"Family, huh?"* His voice softened, feigned understanding painted across his face. He was a master of deception—one had to be, in his line of work.

*"I get it, Caster. I really do. That's why I do what I do—to protect my family. But you…"* He set his glass down. *"You put them in danger."*

Cold sweat trickled down my back.

*"You hurt my family, I hurt yours. Blame karma."*

And with that, the mask of civility fell.

*"Kill him."*

The words echoed in my skull, reverberating like a death knell.

He walked past me, so casually, so certain of my fate.

But he didn't know.

Things were going according to *my* plan.

At the periphery of my vision, I caught sight of the clock's minute hand—**11:57 PM.**

This was it.

I slid my hand beneath my shirt, fingers curling around the hilt of my dagger. My plan had been simple: get close, put the blade to his throat, use him as leverage. And he was walking right past me.

No better opportunity would come.

I moved.

With a burst of speed, I lunged, aiming to seize him in a chokehold, dagger poised at his neck. But—

A fist met my face.

The impact sent me sprawling. My vision blurred. The plan—my one shot at survival—shattered in an instant.

*"Make it slow. Make it painful."*

His voice was the last thing I heard before the door shut behind him.

I barely had time to recover before the first blow landed. Then another. And another. This wasn't a fight—it was an execution. I was bleeding, struggling to stay conscious, but pain barely registered.

Instead, my gaze drifted upward.

The city lights stretched beyond the glass walls, shimmering like stars. A fleeting moment of beauty before death.

Then, my eyes found the clock.

The hands were aligning.

**11:59 PM.**

A breath. A heartbeat. A single second.

And then—

The moment they met, the air around me *changed.*

A thunderous chime rang through the tower, shaking the very foundation beneath us.

A stench, foul and unnatural, clawed at my senses.

And then, before my very eyes—

The world tire open.

Darkness swallowed me.