Gulp!
'Shit—shit—shit! Did he notice me eavesdropping? What's he thinking? He hasn't said a word yet? Did he not notice? There's no way. Ugh— am I dead? Run? But where?' Pace could feel his muscles tighten. His breathe came unsteady, eyes darting from one corner to another.
The poet on the other hand, was yet to say a word but his deep blue eyes were like an open book with the answer written in bold letters.
I See You.
'Hostage? Yes! I can take a hostage! Make use of my reputation and take a hostage god damn it! But would he care about a convicts life?'
Pace was half way through forming his plan when suddenly, the metal door to the carriage creaked open. Outside was an average sized man dressed in a neat navy blue police uniform. His face had a scar starting from his forehead, extending all the way to his neck. He wore a smile so wide that even his eyes seemed to grin.
And to Pace, this man was like fire to humans.
A saviour.
He didn't show much expression outside but internally, Pace was already celebrating.
'Phew—no matter how unpredictable, even the poet wouldn't dare kill a convict in front of another officer right?'
The officer with the scar, took a quick peak inside before shifting his black eyes towards the poet.
"We are spending the night here. Commandeers orders." The man spoke in a hushed tone, before turning back.
The poets expressions loosened as he closed his book, before asking. "Do we let the inmates out?"
Scar jolted, before slowly turning around, his hand brushing through his short black hair. He looked at poet, tilting his head in thought.
"Uh— yeah sure. Why not? I don't think any of them would have the guts to escape with you here." The man said, looking at the inmates. "Well even if they try, we have orders to kill on whim. It'll only make our job easier." He raised his voice, making sure his words sat loud and clear in the inmates head.
'Kill on… whim? Can this nightmare get any worse?!' Pace screamed inside, his gaze slowly turning towards the poet.
Who was—smiling.
A shiver ran through Pace's spine.
'Yep! the world is ending.'
***
Around half an hour later, Scar came back with keys to the chains binding the convicts.
Stepping outside, Pace stretched his sore limbs, struggling to lift the heavy cuffs that still bound his hands. He took a deep breath and looked around again.
The sky was painted dark orange, as the sun was half way below the horizon. They were in an open city centre. The ground was made of dirt and was full of pebbles. There were stalls all around them, with seven paths leading into different areas—though most were small streets with houses lining each side.
'This place—it's kinda weird.' Pace thought, as he noticed the lack of people. Moreover on a closer look, the stalls were rather dusty and were filled with cobwebs. The houses themselves were more or less run down.
It was obvious that this place had been abandoned.
"It's also quite chilly." Pace muttered, rubbing his arms.
Within the next hour, the area had been thoroughly scouted and the resting place was decided to be an old, yet stable church with a broken roof.
The convicts were chained up again, but this time they were chained to each other. Coincidentally the guy in front of Pace was Bushy. A mountain of a man who made looking in front quite difficult. Behind him was Fox face, who tried to stay as far away from Pace as the chains would allow.
Inside, the wooden floor of the church creaked as the convicts slowly stepped in. It had white brick walls and a large, circular, multicoloured glass pane was embedded into the front wall.
Soon the convicts were seated on the hard wooden floor, while most officers took the not so broken seats. Two of them had unpacked the ration for the trip and were distributing it among the officers.
But throughout this—Paces mind was busy analysing. A soldiers mindset perhaps? But he just couldn't be at ease till he knew everything around him.
'The main hall has three exits, two of them probably lead further inside and the third is the main door we entered through. The town is weird. Moreover it's strange that the day is almost over and yet the initiating incident hasn't occurred. If this continues then finding the red door might just be impossible. Heck what fear does this nightmare even revolve around?' Pace contemplated.
Finally raising his gaze, Pace looked at the officers. He didn't realise when the booze had opened up but based on their condition, he could more or less tell that it had been going around for a while.
One… two… three… Pace counted at least seventeen officers, both male and female. 'I have to assume that there are atleast three to four standing guard outside. So over twenty?'
That's when, from the corner of his eye, he spotted a lone girl. She was wearing a similar outfit to the rest, except she didn't have a gun. Her long blonde hair glistened under the pale moonlight that came in from the broken roof.
'That must be Elvia.' Pace guessed, based on her loner atmosphere and how she was clinging to a silver cross as if praying.
'She seems to be the one with the most knowledge about this place. I should keep her close—the issue is how does a convict even get chummy with an officer?'
Still tangled in thought, Pace felt a sharp tug on the chain to his left. He glanced over and saw Fox-face acting strange—his eyes stretched wide, jaw jittering. He looked as if he had just matched eyes with death itself.
He tried to stand, backing away from whatever he'd seen, but his legs lost their strength. They buckled, dumping him to the hard wooden floor with a thud. He scrambled backward, hands slipping on the wood. All that came out of his mouth were light, pathetic grunts.
That's when the convict chained to the other side of Fox noticed his odd behaviour. He turned, following Fox's horrified gaze toward the church's main entrance—and froze. Just for a second. His face drained of colour, and then he let out a scream so sharp it cut through the murmuring crowd like a blade. The officers jumped. A few cursed.
Pace was already half-turned before the others reacted, instincts kicking in the moment Fox started freaking out. He twisted to look over his shoulder, heart hammering, eyes scanning the open church doors—for whatever the hell had made two grown ass men fall apart.
But when he finally saw it— a chuckle escaped Pace's lips. His eyes widened, heart beat was a mess. Every single muscle tightened.
In front of him stood an entire army of people—no creatures. Hands raised half way to the sky. Their bodies black to the point where it was impossible to discern any features—except a giant maw filled with hundreds of razor sharp teeth.
Running.
Straight towards the church.
Pace looked to his side. The officers were still drunk. Most of them hadn't even noticed the swarm of creatures rushing towards them, and those who had were too dull to register what was happening.
"This nightmare just got so much worse."