Chapter 5

Abbott pressed his back against a cool wall in the alley he had just dashed into, trying to get his lungs to function again. He couldn’t breathe; he felt as though he were dying. He was shaking uncontrollably, he couldn’t get any air into his lungs, his chest was tight, and his mind was shutting down completely. This is it, he thought. I’m going to die right here, in this alley, without even living. I just finally got away from that goddamn hellhole, and now I’m going to die right here. He pulled his knees to his chest. Breathing was coming back to him now, but it was much too fast; he was hyperventilating, and stars were popping in the corner of his vision, the lack of oxygen getting to him. He allowed his body to fall over, and he lay curled on the ground in the fetal position, until his breathing began to slowly even out. He was asleep before he knew it.

He slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares of Alastair hunting him down. He saw the man clearly in his mind, with a gun, or a knife, or a noose. O’Leary was on top of him, ripping him open with long silver claws that had appeared out of nowhere, and Abbott was screaming, yelling, dying.

He woke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. He half expected to see Alastair O’Leary standing over him, but instead he was greeted with a strange creature leaning over his face. He shot up with a yell, hand instinctively reaching for the knife at his side. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he brandished it at the small beast, who was posing nonchalantly on top of a box next to Abbott in the alleyway.

“Mrrow…” the creature said contemptuously.

“Back, foul fiend!” Abbott shouted as he stepped closer to the being. Was this what Alastair had been talking about when he said the outside world was dangerous? Was he going to die, vanquished by this small but evil-looking creature without even making it to find Finnian?

The beast rose from its sitting position and hopped gracefully off of the box, landing on the ground at Abbott’s feet. Emitting a strange low noise, it circled once, twice, three times around his ankles and then began weaving in between his feet, rubbing itself oddly on his legs.

“What- what are you doing? Are you trying to capture me?” he asked, wondering briefly if the creature could even understand him.

It looked up at him with wide eyes and made the strange noise again. Its mouth opened wide as it did so, exposing a mouth full of tiny fangs. This startled Abbott again, and he jumped back, blade out in front of him. The animal began striding slowly back over towards Abbott, who was cornered against the wall.

“I swear, if you get any closer, I’ll… I’ll kill you!” he yelled, hoping the creature would take the hint and back up. It didn’t, and instead kept advancing towards him, but his yelling must have awoken the tenants of the neighboring building, as he heard a door slam next to him. His head turned curiously, the animal momentarily forgotten, as a young boy ran into the alleyway. The kid took in the scene- the animal weaving around Abbott’s ankles, and Abbott standing with the knife brandished bravely. The little one shrieked, running towards Abbott. “FUZZY!”

The child grabbed the strange creature and glared at Abbott protectively. “What were you doing with Fuzzy? Why do you have that knife?”

Abbott stammered, flustered. “Fuzzy?”

The child stared at him impatiently. “My kitty cat!”

Oh… Abbott thought. This creature was called a ‘cat’. That sounded familiar- perhaps he had seen something relating to it in the Empyrium. Yes, he thought, he had seen bottles labeled “cat” in Alastair’s secret chamber. Perhaps these creatures were used for parts, like O’Leary used them.

“So…” he asked, “it’s not- dangerous?”

The kid looked astonished. “Only if you pull his tail, stupid. Then he’ll BITE!”

At the word ‘Bite’, the child jumped forward, startling Abbott into dropping his knife. As he fumbled to recover it, he questioned, “Do you use it for- parts?”

The child’s face fell. “MOM!” he screamed. “THIS GUY WANTS TO CUT FUZZY UP!” With one last terrified look, he fled into the house, odd creature in arms.

Abbott sighed and took off at a jog, getting away from the house as a woman, presumably the boy’s mother, emerged, shaking her fist at Abbott. She screamed profanities at him as he sprinted off, not quite sure where he was headed. Away from that house, that was for sure.

He didn’t know where Finnian lived. Hell, he didn’t know anything about the kid except that he worked for the newspaper, and Abbott didn’t even know where the newspaper building was. He knew absolutely nothing about the outside world, except that apparently the people were oddly protective of their ‘cats.’

Abbott turned down another street, putting as much distance between himself and the Empyrium as he could. He needed to find someone to ask about Finnian, but he wasn’t sure if that would raise any red flags. He wasn’t honestly sure how to go about asking someone that; social interaction certainly wasn’t his strong suit after being raised in the back room of a store for his entire life. Besides, there weren’t any people out and about at this hour- the sun had just started to peek over the horizon, painting the sky with brushstrokes of yellow and orange. Abbott wasn’t even sure if the newspaper building would be open for him to ask about Finnian.

He caught a glimpse of a woman watching him in a window. He turned to face her and smiled, but she disappeared behind a curtain. Thinking that maybe she would talk to him, he trotted up the front steps and looked at the door. There was a heavy brass knocker attached to the front. Did all he have to do was knock?

He picked it up in one hand and let it drop. He wasn’t quite sure how many times he had to do this, so he repeated the action twice more for good measure. He was about to do it a fourth time when the woman finally opened the door, looking frazzled and defensive. Her right hand was held up and open, as if warning Abbott to back off; her left held a rolling pin, presumably for self defense. She shrieked, “We don’t have anything!” and went to slam the door.

Abbott kept the door from shutting with an outstretched palm. “I- I don’t mean any harm, madam. I just… could you tell me where the newspaper office is? The place where the newspapers come from.”

The woman held up one bony finger, hand trembling. She pointed down the opposite street. “Down there. Big red building. Now get off my doorstep or I’m going to beat you!” She raised the rolling pin threateningly.

Abbott didn’t think twice. Nodding in thanks to his rather terrified informant, he rubbed the back of his neck and retreated back to the street. He put one foot after the other, trying not to slip on the cobblestones, which were slick with the early morning dew, and made his way down the road, following the tip of a red building, which rose above the others. In the crisp morning air, the building was surrounded by a halo of color from the sunrise. It seemed almost like whatever gods were out there were beckoning him forward, confirming that the newspaper building was the right place to go. He just had to get there.

One foot in front of the other. It wasn’t hard. It was just down the street.

But every step he took away from the Empyrium made his chest tighten, a fist around his heart squeezing every last drop of life out. O’Leary knew exactly what he was doing, and sooner or later, he would find Abbott.