ATLANTION - LAYLA BOOK1

Part 17 Farrar

The image of the black angel in front of Farrar had no vibe of a living soul. Every being he had seen before had an energy presence, yet he couldn't sense any sign of life around this creature. As a witch, his ability to sense the living proved helpful in the undergrounds. The gray eyes that looked at Layla were beautiful like sparkling stones, but there was nothing to read in them. Instead, they were cold and empty.

Farrar thought the Master of the Pleasure Guild had left, but was that an illusion? The bastard was toying with them. "We are leaving," barked Farrar as he grabbed Layla's hand and pulled her out of the store.

"Your friend is very protective of you, darling," replied the Master, grinning and showing his long sharp teeth.

Farrar was furious and nervous. If he didn't release Layla's arm now, she would have a black finger tattoo tomorrow. They walked quickly along the shops, shouting at the sellers who advertised their goods. The green lamp light illuminated rows of faces and colorful clothes. It was a blurry, fast-going movie with curious personages, and there was no time to analyze everything. Everything was so interesting, different weapons, magical artifacts, fantastic machines, and animals. Every seller had something impressive about them, from strange hats to fantastic jewelry and hairstyles, to eyes, hair, and skin.

Farrar enjoyed wandering around the black market and gathering materials for his projects. Each time he came here, new stalls and sellers appeared. The city was a changing display. Very few merchants with shops were permanent. They passed the old gate in no time, and now the unlit part of the city started. Her face looked like a ripe tomato ready to explode, but she kept up.

He didn't stop; he walked even faster now that she followed him without other distractions. They tried not to trip on loose stones from the gray pavement or fat tree roots that popped out from shattered holes. Near a crooked lamppost, a lean black figure was waiting. At the sight of it, Farrar rushed them toward another light. Layla almost fell when she stepped on treacherous black spots with the missing pavement. A slight chill crawled his spine when the tall black shade disappeared. The smell of rot filled the street. He didn't like this at all. At least a dozen shadows lurked around, and the stench became more potent.

Not a single light was visible on the street in front of them. Someone had smashed every single bulb toward the exit. "This doesn't look good at all," said Farrar and stopped. The darkness in front of them stank like a garbage can full of flesh in putrefaction.

A pack of Grimm creatures was hunting them. Going in front was straight doom. No wonder the purple cabby was not driving in this section. Farrar got out one of the longest blades he had on him. Shooting in the darkness was not an option, but waiting there wasn't one.

He felt it with his nose and then with his entire body. His skin crawled when he turned and saw at least ten creatures with gaping mouths and slim bodies covered in bone spikes.

Farrar was not familiar with this beast. It would be a blessing if the orange saliva that dripped from their foul cavities was not poisonous. Farrar wondered what their weak spot was. He figured that beheading them would be his best idea. They crawled toward them, but more were hiding in the night in front of them. They had to run to the exit and hope the beasts were not very stealthy or stay and try to fight.

"Put on the goggles and turn on the green switch," Farrar instructed, handing the girl a pair of protective eyewear. "It'll help you see in the darkness. Our best chance is to outrun these creatures."

 Farrar retrieved a small pouch from his pocket, feeling for the powder he always carried with him. It had saved him on numerous occasions, and he wasn't taking any chances now. 

 "Get ready to run when I throw the explosives," he warned, removing several silver cans from his pocket and hurling them ahead of them. The resulting blasts illuminated the street with a purple light, revealing the lurking monsters. Debris rained down on them, crushing bone and black flesh, and squishing underfoot as they ran. Farrar felt the searing pain of a few cuts on his arms and cheek.

 He tossed more explosives as they ran, creating more grotesque streaks of inhuman creatures, but they continued to push forward. The girl was keeping pace, despite a deep cut on her arm and several on her legs. 

 Farrar silently prayed they would reach the safe side of the city as he fought off the relentless onslaught of attackers. However, his hopes began to falter when more dark figures appeared ahead of them, blocking their exit. Suddenly, a bright flame erupted in front of them, consuming the narrow street. 

 The acrid smell of burning flesh and hair made Farrar gag. He loathed his brother most of the time, but seeing Ferron with a fire blaster brought a surge of relief to his heart. 

 Ferron was clearly having a good time, dousing the monsters with fire. His gangster attire was ruined with oil and stinky liquid, but he didn't seem to care one bit. 

 "The party has begun, my brother. Hop in my car, but don't dirty my leather seats," Ferron said, laughing and cheering. 

 "Shut up and watch your back. You look like a pig," Farrar replied, shoving Layla into the car before joining her. 

 Farrar had no idea how Ferron knew he was in danger, but they could figure that out later. For now, he needed to examine the bone sample he had taken to determine what they were up against. He suspected that the Crafters Guild Master was hiding something. 

 The remainder of the journey to the Craftsmen side was far less eventful, but the tension between the brothers continued to build.