Chapter 36 - Useless Bible

“It feels so eerie. I remember reading about them in Hound’s book,” whispered one of Gazier’s trusted soldiers, standing far enough away that their new companions couldn’t overhear. “What did the book say to do about them?”

“They were supposed to die to the moths,” Gazier replied, a wry twist to his lips as he knotted a frayed lace on his dirty boots.

“WHAT?” The soldier’s voice nearly echoed in the hushed, abandoned office building they had chosen as a temporary sanctuary. Four floors high and cluttered with ancient desks and toppled chairs, it felt marginally safe so long as they remained quiet. “Then why are they here—alive?”

Gazier took a moment before answering, tugging the knot tight. “I’ve decided. Fuck the book!”

The soldier’s eyes went wide at those words. “Hound always said it was for the greater good—that all the killing served some higher purpose. And you believed him for a long time.”

“I do believe him,” Gazier muttered, voice ragged with frustration. “But the bodies just keep piling up. There has to be another way, a better way. I’m all for core hunting with beasts, but being a cold-blooded murderer? I can’t do it anymore.”

A weighty silence fell between them, broken only by the crackle of a small torch casting flickering shadows across the walls.

“You said Hound can see the future, right? Won’t he know you’re going against the book’s plan?” the soldier asked warily.

“Not exactly,” Gazier said with unexpected confidence. “The soldiers are searching for those scientists. If we can keep them from meeting, none of the major events will shift. Hound won’t suspect a thing.”

“But the book said—”

“I SAID, FUCK THE BOOK,  JADEN!” Gazier snapped, loud enough to draw a few curious looks from others huddled in the office space. He lowered his voice quickly. “I’m heading to Hound’s place in the morning. You figure out how to lead those soldiers astray—you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

Jaden hesitated, “They’re bound to ask questions.”

“Then find answers,” Gazier retorted. “You’re resourceful enough. Use that brain.”

A faint grin passed between them as they clinked their battered canteens, each containing only a swallow of stale water. “You’re hardly any help, you know that?” Jaden teased, and they both laughed quietly. “Some Baron you are!”

Meanwhile, Emily grew impatient upstairs in Corpsehaven, waiting for Hound to show. Anxiety weighed on the scientists as their wounds were finally treated with an unexpected gentleness they hadn’t experienced since arriving. The bandaging was meticulous, the care genuine, and it put them on edge—why show mercy now?

“What the hell is taking him so long?” Evee muttered, her annoyance wearing thin.

“Not in front of the kid,” Vorn warned, gesturing to Sofie.

“You better shut the fuck up before I eat your other arm,” Evee snapped back, her patience gone in Hound’s absence. She hopped off a creaking chair. “Come on, Sofie, I can’t sit around here all night.”

Emily also stood. “Let me go instead,” she said, moving toward the door. “You make sure these people stay put.”

“I’m missing a leg, dumbass!” one of the scientists interjected. “Don’t think I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon!”

Emily paused at the door, her hand on the knob, tempted to bash his head in for his insolence. When did I start feeling this…bloodlust? she thought. “I’ve been around Hound too long,” she muttered under her breath, letting go of her violent urge.

“That’s not a nice thing to say!” Sofie scolded the injured scientist, her tiny eyebrows creasing in disapproval. Emily managed a small chuckle, then opened the door.

Outside, two guards quickly blocked her path. “Under Hound’s orders—”

“Just open it,” she commanded in a flat tone. The guards exchanged resigned looks and stepped aside; they knew better than to argue with her.

Emily’s mind raced as she descended into the lower chamber. “Everyone’s waiting on— Oh…” The sight before her stopped her cold. Binge lay sprawled across the floor like a masterpiece of living art, blood pooling around him as his body slowly regenerated from Hound’s vicious ministrations. Bones crackled back into place, frayed nerves stitched themselves together, and tattered flesh peeled away to reveal new skin beneath.

Hound stood utterly still, eyes blazing with pale luminescence. He stared into nothingness, head twitching sporadically. Emily recognized this posture immediately—Hound was gazing into the future, something he hadn’t done since the early stages of the widespread infection.

She swallowed hard. A hush crawled over the room, as though any noise might trigger something catastrophic. “This can only mean one thing,” Emily thought. “Someone’s about to get messed up beyond all repair.”

Heavy footsteps approached from behind, followed by Sofie’s lighter tread. Emily didn’t need to look; she knew it was Evee leading Sofie by the hand. “If both of us are here, who’s watching them?” Emily asked softly.

“They’re grown men. They don’t need a babysitter,” Evee shot back, then redirected her glare at Hound’s rigid form. “Hey, golden boy—I’ve got places to be. Let’s wrap this up.”

No response. “HEY! I SAID—”

“I heard you,” Hound interrupted, emerging from the trance. The eerie glow in his eyes subsided, dulling to his usual dark brown. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow. I’ve got something else to handle.”

“What did you see?” Evee demanded, stepping into his path.

“Nothing important.” His tone was guarded.

“If it’s nothing big, you won’t mind sharing with the class.” She crossed her arms, refusing to move. Hound recognized that stubborn stance—she wouldn’t let him pass without an answer.

He exhaled sharply. “Gazier deviated.” There was a growl underlining each word, as though he resented speaking them aloud. What he didn’t reveal was the rest of the vision: Emily’s family, alive—and the potential threat that would bring to his grand plan.

All levity drained from Evee’s face. “Hound…” She tried to soften her voice. “Let me talk to him first. No need to turn this into a bloodbath.”

“Bloodbath?” Hound echoed, sounding genuinely confused.

“I’m trying to keep him alive, not kill him.” Evee set her jaw. “He messed up the sequence and now every book we have is useless. I want to rip his head off for that—but he’s no good to me dead. I’ll deal with his punishment after.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” she added firmly.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

A shadow crossed Emily’s face as she stepped closer, her eyes sharp with concern. “What else did you see?” she pressed.

Hound averted his gaze. “I didn’t see anything beyond his death.” He spun around and began striding away, refusing to elaborate.

Emily caught the fleeting shift in his posture—a telltale sign he was lying. “You look away when you lie,” she accused. “I want the whole truth.”

But Hound didn’t stop. His footsteps echoed in the corridor, leaving Emily, Evee, and Sofie behind, each wondering what horrors the future might hold—and why he’d spare them from knowing.