Of Morsels

Twelfth of Attor, in the year 218 after Deadhaus It was a three day ride from the  Eastern Reaches to the capitol, or at least it would have been were I traveling  alone. With the caged ghoul hitched to my horses, the journey was far more complicated… and  perilous. If imperial patrols were to intercept me, I would undoubtedly be questioned. And  if they noticed my cargo, not even my badge

could save me then. I had to move in secret,  riding only under cover of darkness. Covering the cage with a tarp hid the ghoul from prying  eyes, but that did little to appease my horses, who bucked against their bindings. They could  sense the unnatural thing so near to them. For that I had my chimes, an inquisitor’s  tool whose sound can still the untrained mind, useful for breaking the influence of the dead  over human thoughts… or for interrogations.

The ghoul itself was less than cooperative.  Ever so often, it thrashed against its cage and hissed, and while the chimes calmed the  horses, its thrashing would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention. Thankfully, I had  planned for this before I left the village. The mayor knew better than to ask why  I required a sow to be slaughtered, or its remains butchered into long, thin  strips. But those pieces of meat served me

well as I pushed them through the spaces in the  cage. The ghoul was… well, not exactly quieted, but distracted at least. And so I made  my way closer to the capitol each night, ringing my chimes and feeding my passenger,  until at last I could see the city gates ahead. The guards would stop me  there. In these times of war, there were no unguarded passages  into the capitol to smuggle so large a thing as my cage. Now came the time for  my gamble. I dismounted and lifted the tarp.

The ghoul was huddled into one corner of its  confines and stayed unmoving as I peered in. “I know you can hear me,” I addressed  it. “I suspect you can understand me.” The ghoul remained motionless. “In a moment,  we’re going to be stopped by imperial guards. They’re going to inspect this  cage, and you’re going to let them. You’re not going to move a muscle, because you’re  just a corpse that was taken by consumption.”

It made no acknowledgement. “A dead body.  Not undead. Not capable of movement. Not forbidden entry to the capitol… understand?”  Silence. “Because if you don’t understand, and you should do anything a dead body  wouldn’t, you’ll be burned in that cage.” I returned to my horses, wondering if I  was making the last mistake of my life. Sure enough, one of the guards  approached me at the gate. “Hail, Grand Inquisitor. What  is your cargo and purpose?”

“A cadaver.” The guard’s  eyebrow raised at my answer. “For research purposes.”  This was technically true. “What sort of research?” He asked,  his hand resting on his sword hilt. “You know I can’t tell you that, legionnaire,”  I told him, which was also technically true. “I’ll need to take a look.” He circled around to  the back of the cage, and my heart began to hammer “So you can weigh in with your medical expertise?” I said, hoping that annoyance  would mask my terror.

“So the captain doesn’t come down on me for  breaking protocol.” He lifted the tarp. “My god… the smell!” From where I was sitting, I  couldn’t see inside the cage. I could only pray the ghoul was more clever than anyone  could guess. “What happened to this… thing?” “Taken by consumption. You’ll want to keep  your distance.” I heard the tarp drop down. “Inquisitor’s work turns my  stomach,” the guard said,

coming around the cage. “Your horses seem a bit  agitated. Will you need assistance moving the--” “No! No… they’re only tired  from riding. Let me just…” I fumbled with sweaty hands to strike  my chimes, and the horses quieted. “How do I get some of those?” the  guard said, nodding toward the chimes. “You don’t.” I stared ahead, so as not to  gaze into the man’s eyes with an expression of restrained horror, but it dawned on me that  this was also unnatural. “Well, it was pleasant

speaking with you… but I really must be going.”  He furrowed his brow and regarded me for a moment, an eternity. Then he motioned to  the others, who opened the gate, and I rode into the capitol of the Thacean empire  with a monster in tow. I can scarcely recall the ride to my laboratory. Once or twice, the wheels  of the cage caught a particularly bad bump, and I was certain the ghoul would rouse. Surely  this creature had not understood and cooperated

in my ploy. Surely I was mad for even dreaming  such a thing…. but it remained silent. An assistant took the horses to the stables  after they were unhitched from the cage. It was too large to bring to the upper floors,  so I would bring my tools and materials down. But first I barred the doors and shuttered every  window. At last I was free to continue my work

to save a people who would destroy me if they  discovered it. But none of that mattered. I had an unliving specimen--not the remains of an undead,  not a sample--an intact and fully animated ghoul. I pulled down the tarp, exposing  the ghoul to the torchlight. It lay on one side, curled into the  fetal position, a most convincing corpse. “We’re alone now,” I told it. Slowly, the  ghoul uncurled and pulled itself upright.

Under the torchlight, I could better examine its  anatomy than our first encounter. Its tattered flesh hung from its body in shreds, exposing  bloodied sinew and yellowed bones beneath, and these skeletomuscular features were severely  deformed, twisted as if by massive growth trauma. Extreme curvature of the spine  rendered bipedal movement impossible, but elongation of the forelimbs compensated for  this, allowing the creature to move on all fours.

Both its hands and feet--or what used to be  hands and feet--had been stretched to enormous proportion and were tipped with hooked claws.  Jagged rows of barbed teeth lined a mouth that gaped like the unhinged jaw of a serpent. Above  that, a pair of nasal slits replaced what once was a nose, and only fleshy indentations remained  where once there were eyes. And yet, strangest of

all, upon the flesh of its forehead, a symbol had  been carved. I thought perhaps I had been mistaken when I saw it in the cemetery, but there it was in  the torchlight, an oval crossed with many lines. “Did you do this to yourself?” I  asked, tapping my own forehead. The ghoul lurched against its cage and hissed.  “You’re very strong, but that’s dead man’s iron. I had this cage specially crafted at Ft.  Serenus.” It slashed against the bars with

its claws, sending sparks flying. “Yes, by  all means, get it all out of your system.” It leapt and struck the roof of the cage. “I  can tell you’re just as excited as I am to be here.” It hissed, low and menacing. “Allow me  to introduce myself. I am Alaric von Beller, Grand Inquisitor of the Thacean Empire. Do you  know what that means? It means I am very skilled

at interrogations. And while I must admit that  most of my practice has been with living subjects, I think I already know what motivates you.” I reached into a sack on a table nearby and  withdrew a hunk of raw pig flesh. The ghoul reacted immediately, scuttling up to my  side of the cage and gripping the bars, much in the way that a human prisoner might.  I could see the nasal slits on its face flaring as it sniffed in my direction. “You  see? We both have something the other wants.

Now, tell me. Who made that mark on your  forehead?” The ghoul simply remained where it was, clutching the bars of the cage. “It’s far too  late to pretend you don’t understand me now, especially after that performance at  the gate.” It remained silent. “No? Alright then,” I placed the meat back into the  bag. “We’ll try again tomorrow.” As I ascended the

stairs I heard it howling and thrashing. I suppose  it must have done so for much of the night, unbeknownst to me, as I slept more  soundly than I have in many years. The next morning, I returned to find my  guest still pressed against the bars, facing the sack of meat. “Did you stay like that  all night, or did you hear me coming?” I asked, sitting on the table next to the sack. The  ghoul said nothing. “I thought you might be more

talkative after a night to think things over.”  Still nothing. “I’m only going to ask this once. Who made that mark?” It hissed at me.  “I’m afraid that’s not an answer,” I said, leaving to the stairs once more. I could not  help but smile as I heard its outrage behind me. The servants had been ordered to stay away  from my laboratory so long as they saw the windows shuttered. No one would hear the  shrieks. I had as much time as I needed.

The following day, I decided to breakfast in  front of the cage, and on that particular morning I was craving meat. I sat down with a plateful  of cured ham, fried sausages, salted bacon, and cow’s liver. I ate slowly. “You know… they  say breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” I said between bites. “The body needs  nourishment after going without it during sleep.

You remember sleep, yes?” The ghoul said  nothing, and though its face lacked the subtle expression of a human’s, I could  have sworn it was watching me with contempt. “By the way… how did you get that mark?” I asked.  No answer. “Well, it’s been great catching up, but I have a full day ahead of me. I’ll see  you tomorrow.” I turned back toward the stairs. “Wait…” a rasping voice from  behind stopped me in my tracks.

Slowly, I turned to face the ghoul, who  still sat clutching the bars of the cage. “Do my ears deceive me?” I asked.  For a moment it simply sat there, watching me, and I felt a deep  gnawing in my gut. Had I imagined it? “We made the sign, yes.” The ghoul tapped  one of its claws against its forehead. I rushed back to the table, and  took a piece of meat from the sack. I was so excited, I scarcely  noticed the stench of it. “Who is we?” I asked.

The ghoul grumbled in its throat, and  then answered, “No meat, no questions.” “Ah, of course,” I said, and tossed a small piece  of flesh through the bars. It lunged at the meat, snatching it from the floor with its  teeth and swallowing it in an instant. “You said ‘we made the sign.’  What does that mean? Who is we?” “We.” It tapped a claw against its chest. “Yes, you and who else?” “No meat, no questions.” “You and who else,” I repeated,  tossing it another piece.

“Only we.” It tapped its chest again. I paused for a moment, then tossed  another piece of meat. “How many are you?” “We are two… like you, yes,” it said,  tapping where its eyes used to be. I set the sack of meat down and sighed.  Had I managed to capture a mad ghoul? Or perhaps they were all like this, and  therefore of little use in questioning. The

ghoul watched me patiently as I reflected. “What  does the sign mean, then? Why did you make it?” I asked, remembering the payment  required for the question. “We made it for need.” “Did someone command you to do this?” “Only we.” “Then you carved a symbol into your  own flesh and don’t understand why?” “Not all purpose is for understanding.” “Perhaps you are not as clever as I thought.” “Perhaps.” I raised my hands to my face, to  knead the flesh in frustration,

but quickly recoiled at the smell of them.  I could tell that the ghoul would need more motivation if it was to be properly  forthcoming. “Very well then, ghoul. I have no more questions for you today. Perhaps  tomorrow your answers will make more sense.” “Perhaps.” I left it in its cage, relieved to be away  from the stench at last, but less hopeful for the answers it might give willingly. At  least whatever truths might lack in its words

would undoubtedly be found in its dissection.  For two days more I did not visit the ghoul. I knew it could endure at least this long without  sustenance, as it did so before it was captured in the cemetery. When next I approached the  cage, the ghoul hissed low in its throat. “Tsk, tsk, tsk…. that’s no way to greet  your one chance of getting any food” “Alaric von Beller,” the ghoul  said in a contemptuous whisper. “That’s right.” I set a fresh sack  of meat on the table next to me,

and the ghoul’s head snapped to  face it. “And what is your name?” “No meat, no--” “I’ll be on my way then,” I collected  the sack and made for the stairs. “Wait!” it cried, shrill and full of  desperation, but I did not turn to face it. I left it with its hunger another day more. The following evening I brought the meat back  down to the cage. The ghoul lay on its side, curled into fetal position. “I know the dead  do not sleep,” I said, setting the meat down,

but the ghoul was unmoving. “And I  know you’re clever enough to pretend.” I tossed a chunk of meat through the bars, and  the ghoul snapped upright, devouring it in a frenzy. “That’s what I thought. Now, I have the  strangest hunch that you’re feeling a bit more forthcoming today.” The ghoul did not answer.  “So, we’re going to have a conversation, man to man, and if I find your answers  sufficient, then and only then will I feed you.” “Ask,” the ghoul growled.

“What is your name?” “We are ghoul.” “That’s not a name. I am not  called human; I am called Alaric.” “von Beller,” it hissed. “What are you called?” “Depends on who is calling, yes.” “What do you call yourself?” “We are ghoul.” “Then the dead make no distinction among  ghouls? They call each and every one the same? How would orders be given this way?” “We are Falk-Ghoul.” “That is two names.” “We are two.” “I see only one ghoul.”

“You see more than you know, Alaric von Beller,” the ghoul tapped the shallow  indentations where its eyes once were. “I’m warning you, ghoul… you  risk your existence for riddles.” “We give you truth!” it spat. “Master Alaric, there’s an urgent message from--”  a servant came bounding down the stairs, in clear disregard for my orders. His words faltered  as he saw the cage, and his face whitened. His panicked eyes darted between myself,  the ghoul, and the sack in my hand.

I moved in reflex, snatching the chimes  and striking them before the servant had the chance to scream. The fear fell  away from him, and his eyes glazed over. “What in the name of the gods are you doing  down here!? I said that none should enter!” “The emperor ordered that the grand inquisitor be summoned immediately,” the servant  spoke as if from a faraway dream. “What did you see in this room, young man?” “I saw the living communing  with the dead. I saw heresy.”

“Are you sure this is what you saw? Are you certain that the fumes from the  laboratory did not cloud your judgement?” “I… I…” “We can keep him silent,  yes,” the ghoul suggested. “Keep yourself silent!” I answered.  The servant stared blankly ahead. “Go to your emperor. We will protect  your secrets,” the ghoul answered. “You would damn me to conspiracy!” “You are damned already, yes. This one will squeal  like a suckling pig… either to them… or for us.”

“Is this true? Would you testify  to what you have seen this day?” “Oh, most certainly,” the servant answered in  his dream-like calm, completely detached from the implications of what he was saying.  “I never did like the grand inquisitor.” I gripped the hammer of the chimes in  white-knuckled agony. With enough time, perhaps I could have molded the servant’s thoughts,  weakened the memories, but I had no such time.

It was in this moment more than any other  that I felt as if I stood at the threshold of a terrible path… one that I knew had little  choice but to take. I struck the chimes once more. “You will wait until I’ve left  this room… and then… you will… approach the cage. You will reach  through the bars. Do you understand?” “Of course,” he answered. But he  did not understand… not really. I took one last look at the ghoul, who said  nothing, and then I fled so quickly that I heard

nothing behind me. I went before the emperor.  He spoke to me of reports on a new threat, a so-called Crimson Cult that was forming north  of the capitol, but I scarcely heard a word he said. My eyes were on the praetorians that  lined the council chamber. They stood unmoving, staring ahead… or were they staring at me? Did  they suspect what I had done? And why didn’t they say anything? Were they biding their time until I  left? No… no, of course not. There’s no way they

could know. When at last the emperor dismissed me,  I walked back to the laboratory, but my steps were slow. I did not want to reach my destination.  What I found when I did was unthinkable. Blood and viscera coated the floor and walls  of the laboratory. These fluids and a flap of flesh covered in hair, a scalp, were  all that remained of the unlucky servant. But the door to the cage had been opened, and the  ghoul was nowhere to be seen. In a blind panic,

I took up my satchel and a crossbow loaded  with silver-tipped bolts. There were tracks, elongated handprints in the blood. They led toward  the sewers. I pursued as quickly as I could, forgoing the caution I would normally  possess in pursuit of the dead. For if my quarry escaped, my chances were  about as good as if it caught me by surprise. I found the grating of the sewers torn  open. It was but simple iron bars,

not the stuff of Ft. Serenus. I climbed in  after the ghoul, crossbow trained ahead. The stench barely registered in my mind, a pungent  cocktail of chemical runoff from the lab merged with the stream of human filth from the city. The  many gleaming eyes of rats regarded me from the shadows. How like them I had become, compelled  into the sewers, conspiring against my own. But it was for the greater good--it was for  the empire! The bloodied tracks ran straight

through the sewage and did not emerge once more.  It had done that on purpose; I’m sure of it. The winding path came at last to an intersection of  many tunnels. It could have taken any of them. “Where are you!?” I shouted, hearing my voice echo through the many tunnels.  “How? How did you open the cage?” “We did not,” the ghoul’s voice echoed from  all around me, as if it came from every tunnel. “Then how did you escape?” “The morsel set us free, yes.” “Impossible!”

“It is not. You rang your bell. It softened his  mind. He did as we asked. Freed us… and fed us.” The full horror dawned upon me then. I had  underestimated the ghoul’s cunning once again. “Face me!” “We will not, no.” “Coward!” I shrieked, whirling my  crossbow from one opening to the next. “Pride is the first that hunger devours.” “Damn your riddles and damn your  hide!” I spat. And then I heard it, a sound I had never fathomed  a ghoul could make… laughter.

It poured through the tunnels, as rank  and vile as the sewage. “You won’t be laughing when they find you!” The laughter fell  silent. I knew that I had to keep it talking. “That’s right; this city is swarming with  guards. Even you can’t hope to evade them all.” “We do not need to, no. We  can stay in the tunnels.” “You’ll starve down here!” I stepped carefully toward my best guess as to  where its voice had come. “We can dig far. New tunnels, yes. We  can go quickly. They will not find us.”

I neared the corner around which the voice  sounded, pressing my back against the wall and steadying my hand on the crossbow. “You think  so? You don’t even know how big this city is.; you were covered when I brought you in. Your  hunger will find you before you find a way out.” “Then you will show us the way out,” it  said, nearing the other side of the corner.

I was close enough to hear its rattling  breath. If the stones were not between us, I could have reached out and touched  its many rows of barbed teeth. I placed my finger on the trigger of the crossbow,  took a deep breath, and leapt around the corner. Nothing faced me. The passage was empty. A low  hiss rose from behind, standing the hair of

my neck on end. I whirled, but the ghoul was  quicker. Its elongated hand gripped my skull and shoved me into the stones with such force  that my vision turned white and my ears rang. “Alaric von Beller.” Its voice dripped with pure hatred, and  it brought its gaping maw before my face. “We could eat your head and all its secrets…” Its throat gurgled in what I can only imagine  was anticipation. “But that would be against

the rules.” I struggled to speak through the fog  of the concussion and the rotted hand across my mouth. “Afraid that’s not an answer,” it mocked  me. I thrashed in vain against the strength that such decayed limbs should not possess. “Yes,  by all means… get it all out of your system.” In a daze, the only thought that occurred was to sink my teeth into its flesh,  which merely caused it to cock its head.

“The grand inquisitor would make a grand ghoul.”  Then I realized I was still holding the crossbow. The silver tipped-bolt twanged free, punching through the ghoul’s core, and the flesh  where it struck was instantaneously burned away, causing the creature to fall in half. Its howls  filled the sewer tunnels, scattering the rats,

but I stood my ground. I pulled another silvered  bolt from my coat and began to reload. The upper half of the ghoul flailed wildly as it shrieked…  so it could feel pain after all, but this pain was short lived. Soon it was clawing toward  me, legless, hissing in rage. I fired again, striking the left shoulder, which burned  away the tissue that attached the ghoul’s

arm. But it kept clawing toward me, even  with only one arm left. I have no doubt it could have killed me, even so  maimed, had I not backed away. “Coward!!” it shrieked. “Face me!” I loaded another bolt, aimed for the shoulder  of its only remaining limb, then fired, leaving the ghoul utterly crippled.  It no longer approached me, but only writhed in place, rattling and gurgling  in its throat. I fell back against the stone wall and sank to the ground some  feet away from my quarry.

“What was it you said… pride is  the first that hunger devours?” It jerked its head and gnashed its  teeth. “Maybe you were right.” I had come so close to losing everything I’d  worked for… losing what I’d killed for. But in its current state, I knew that I could  restrain the ghoul, return it to its cage, so long as I was mindful of its head.  Even without any limbs, I will never again underestimate this creature for so long as I  live. The ghoul itself should go on… existing

for as long as I keep feeding it. I think I won’t  dissect it after all--not for a long, long while. I rose to my feet, feeling my head throb for the  effort. The sewer passage lay strewn with limbs and blood and fluids, both the ghoul’s and my own.  But the rats will make short work of the evidence. On the sins of men are the vermin fed,  and tonight their kind shall feast. Alaric von Beller, Grand  Inquisitor of the Thacean Empire