The boys all stared, wild-eyed at the creature.

  There had been no sound before it. No rustling warning. One moment they were talking, and the next moment the world erupted in violence.

  The goblin came out of the treeline like something had launched it. It was smaller than any of them, standing at maybe four and a half feet tall, but it moved with the velocity of something much larger. Its face was a nightmare: tusks jutting from chapped, bloody lips, red eyes wild and unfocused, bloodshot with mania. Features so malformed they barely looked like anything that should exist. A large thin and hooked nose, long, floppy ears with chunks of skin missing in places. Drool hung from its chin, thick and viscous. It shrieked, a sound like nothing any of them had heard before, raw and primal and utterly alien. Not animal and certainly not human. Something else entirely.

  Its breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, punctuated by wet choking sounds. There were wounds across its arms and chest, some deep enough to weep blood. Open wounds. Exposed muscle. Infected edges crusted with filth. The smell hit them a moment later. Unwashed, infected, wrong.

  It wore rags that may have once been clothing. They hung off its body like loose skin, stained with things they didn't want to identify. More filth than fabric.

  The knife in its clawed hand was evidently chipped and dull, but that wasn't what made it terrifying. Its cutting edge was dark, coated in spots of blood not old enough to brown with age. The rust that ran the length of the blade itself looked like a disease waiting to happen. This thing had cut something, or someone, not long before this.

  It came straight for the closest person.

  Liam.

  He stumbled backward, his feet tangling slightly in the grass. The goblin's knife whistled past his face so close he felt the air move. He screamed. A raw, primal shriek he had no recollection of forming. It wrenched itself out of his mouth as he tried his best to scramble away from the monster.

  "Fuck! Get back!" shouted Paul.

  They retreated. Five bodies moving in the same direction without thinking. There was no time for formation or clever tactics, just the pull of an ancient instinct: survive together or die alone.

  The goblin came again.

  It was swift. It moved with an ease that belied its wounded frame. Its knife thrust out, aiming for Paul this time, and Paul barely twisted aside. The blade caught the edge of his shoulder, catching his hoodie; not quite deep enough to graze skin, but still too close for comfort.

  "Fuck!" Paul yelped, putting distance between himself and the creature.

  The goblin's breath came in heaving, rattling gasps. Blood dripped from the knife. It grinned; a horrible expression of broken teeth and malice, then it came at them again.

  Lee wasn't thinking. That was the reason he'd give if asked later how he managed to free himself of his fear long enough to fight back.

  The goblin lunged, and Lee's body moved without his permission. Pure animal instinct took over. He planted his feet and kicked hard. It wasn't trained, not copied from an MMA fight or anything coordinated. It was simple, raw desperation and fear channeled through his leg with every ounce of strength he had.

  His boot connected with the goblin's ribs.

  There was a wet crunch as the goblin shrieked in agony. It flew backward, its feet actually leaving the ground, the thing's body arcing through the air like something had thrown it. It hit the ground with a meaty thump then rolled until it came to a stop, it screeched.

  Lee's hands were shaking, his breath came in short, sharp gasps. Adrenaline and fear flooded through him in equal measure. His friends stared at him, shock written across their faces. Of all of them, no one would have expected Lee to be the first to fight back. Not the guy who refused to play horror games because he hated jump scares. Paul definitely, Liam maybe, but Lee was more of a friendly giant, not a fighter. But somehow, he'd managed to break through his fear, and now they all saw it. The disconnect shook the boys out of their stupor. They turned back to look at the goblin. It was breathing hard, struggling to move as fast as it had previously.

  They realized something: they were five and it was one. They were bigger and clearly stronger. They could do this. The goblin clawed its way back to its feet, its movements uncoordinated, almost drunk. It came at them again, but slower now. Hurt.

  "Shield!" someone shouted. Maybe it was Ste, maybe Paul. In the panic, Liam wasn't certain. He didn't hesitate. He raised his hand and cast his spell. A white light blooming in the air between them and the oncoming goblin. Gritting his teeth, he felt the familiar strain of casting. His mana, or whatever this was, drained further as the shield formed. The force manifested as pure pressure, shimmering but solid.

  "Come on then, you ugly fuck!" Liam shouted, his voice cracking slightly. He had no idea if the goblin understood words, it probably didn't, but he needed to do something, and this was what came out.

  The goblin's attention snapped to him. It locked onto Liam like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. It gnashed its teeth, a look of deranged joy and hunger in its eyes.

  The others moved quietly. There was no verbal command to signal this was the plan, they were working on instinct alone. Paul to the left, Ste to the right. Lee and Parmo flanked wider until they encircled the creature. The goblin was focused on Liam now, on the shield and the challenge it presented in front of it.

  It came at him fast.

  The knife hit the shield and bounced, like it had struck stone. The impact threw the goblin's arm backward, knocked its whole body off balance and for a moment it staggered. It chittered at him, a laugh almost insectoid in nature. It unnerved him, yet he kept the shield in place, recasting to make sure it was still solid.

  "Now!" Paul shouted, and swung his machete.

  The blade caught the goblin across the back, a glancing blow that opened skin but didn't do the damage he'd hoped for. The goblin shrieked and spun, knife lashing out. Paul jumped back in panic. But the goblin's attention snapped back to Liam within seconds, back to the challenge it couldn't ignore.

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  Parmo was still panicking. He could feel it in his chest, the tight coil of fear. He had followed the other lads' lead but was wary of striking out. Instead he reached for his ice spell and tried to cast it at the goblin's face. The spell went wide, not because the goblin dodged, but because Parmo's aim was off with the way his hands were shaking. The ball of cold slush burst just beyond the creature, harmless.

  Once again, the monsters knife hit the shield and bounced. The goblin shrieked in frustration, the barrier just wouldn't break. Its obsession with the shield cracked under the pressure of its own desperation. It stumbled slightly then turned and lunged at Paul with sudden malice.

  He barely got out of the way, the knife missing his ribs by inches. The scent of rot coming from the blade was enough to make him want to run, but he wouldn't abandon his friends. He hurried backward as Lee and Ste struck out, trying to buy him time. Lee swung first, a clumsy overhead strike that still connected with the goblin's shoulder. The creature howled but stayed on its feet. Ste's swing came a second later, managing to catch the goblin's arm, the one holding the knife. The knife jerked dangerously close to Ste's body before the creature's focus broke away.

  The goblin hissed, its gaze flickered, toward Lee, toward Ste, then its head turned, further than seemed natural, and it looked back at Liam. For a moment it seemed torn.

  "Who do you think you're looking at? You sick fuck," Liam shouted, bringing his shield back up. The goblin had already pivoted and shifted its focus back to him. The blood it was sporting, as well as the mad look of glee now framing its hideous face made him wince again. The knife hit the shield and bounced again. This time the goblin screamed in frustration. Paul cast Emberblast. The flame caught the goblin across the chest, and the creature shrieked. But it was just a surface burn; it caused nothing more than singed rags and blistered skin underneath, nothing that stopped it cold. The goblin barely slowed.

  They kept going. Liam holding its attention. Lee and now Parmo, realizing his magic was useless, took shots with their bats, their arms already burning with fatigue. Ste moving in with his knife when there was an opening, jumping back when the goblin noticed. Each movement felt slower than before, heavier. But the goblin was becoming erratic now. Sometimes it charged at Liam with desperate fury, other times it would snap sideways at whoever was closest, sometimes it just stood there, head tilted at that unnatural angle, bloodshot eyes twitching. Once it made that wet, chittering laugh before shrieking and coming at them again.

  The damage was catching up with it. It had been hurt before it even found them, and now it was bleeding from multiple places. The bats had done damage. The knife cuts were adding up. Its breath came in ragged, wet gasps. But it wouldn't die. They were all breathing hard now, sweat running down their faces, muscles burning. Lee nearly stumbled when the goblin suddenly spun toward him instead of Liam, the knife coming up with sudden focus. For one horrible moment Lee was too close, too exposed. Then Ste was there, forcing the goblin's attention away with a knife strike. The goblin hissed and turned back to the shield, back to what it was obsessed with. Back to the thing it couldn't break. It made a mistake.

  It lunged at Parmo and he sidestepped. Lee was there immediately, swinging with all he had. The bat connected with the goblin's head, and the creature went down hard.

  It tried to get back up.

  It made it to its hands and knees.

  That was all the opening they needed.

  Paul was there first, machete raised. He brought it down with as much force as he could muster, and the blade buried itself in the goblin's neck. Blood sprayed, hot and smelly, coating itself on Paul's arm and chest. The goblin's eyes went wide. It made a choking sound, something between a shriek and a death rattle.

  It stopped moving.

  The boys didn't stop. Lee swung his bat once more, connecting with the goblin's body. Parmo did the same. Ste stabbed with his knife—one, two, three times—each thrust punctuated by a wet sound that would echo in his nightmares for weeks.

  The goblin's body jerked with each impact, but its eyes were still open, still watching them even as it died. One hand reached out and clawed at the air before going slack.

  By the time they stepped back, the goblin was dead.

  They stood there, breathing hard, staring at what they'd done. A mix of anxiety, fear and revulsion began to hit them all at once.

  They stood, still circling it, breathing hard and once again frozen in place.

  Parmo moved first. He stumbled away a few steps and bent over, his body heaving. Nothing came up at first—just dry retches that shook his whole frame. Then his stomach emptied, and he was on his knees in the grass, shaking.

  Lee couldn't stop talking. The words just poured out of him, tumbling over each other.

  "We had to. We had to do it. It was going to kill us. All of us. It would have gotten through, would have gotten to the town, and then—" He wasn't making sense and he knew it, but he couldn't stop. "We didn't have a choice. We couldn't run. It would have—"

  "Yeah," Ste said quietly, and his hand came down on Lee's shoulder. "Yeah, we know. You're right. We had to." But even as he said it, his face was white. Drained of colour. His hand on Lee's shoulder was shaking slightly. He was feeling it too, the weight of it, the wrongness of it. He just didn't have the words tumbling out like Lee did.

  Paul was silent.

  He was staring at his hands. At the knife he'd used. At the blood still dripping from the tip, dark and tacky. He'd been the one. His blade had gone into the goblin's neck. His force had ended it. The others had contributed, sure, but Paul had made the killing blow.

  He dropped the knife like it was burning. It fell into the grass and he just stared at where it had landed, unable to look away.

  Liam tried. "Paul, come on. You okay?"

  Paul didn't answer. Didn't move.

  Liam looked away, back at the corpse. At what remained of the goblin. Blood was still leaking from the holes in its body. The smell of it hung in the air, copper and waste, it made his stomach turn.

  "Mike needs to know this," Liam said quietly. "About what's out here. That these things exist."

  Lee looked at the body for the first time since they'd stopped swinging weapons. Then, almost without thinking, he held out his hand toward it.

  He thought: store it.

  The goblin shimmered. For just a moment, its form rippled like heat distortion in summer air.

  Then it vanished completely.

  The silence that followed was absolute, then Ste broke it.

  "What the fuck was that?" Ste said, his voice cracking slightly.

  "What the fuck was what?" Parmo asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  "Did you just—" Paul looked at Lee. "Did you just put it in your inventory?"

  Lee looked at his hands. His inventory glowed slightly in his peripheral vision, and when he checked it mentally, there it was: "Goblin Corpse" listed between his spare clothes and the food he had brought from town.

  "I didn't think it would work," he said quietly. "I was just thinking maybe we could store it. Didn't want to take a dead goblin through town. Thought it might cause panic."

  Parmo was staring at the empty space where the corpse had been. "Yeah, but it's a body. A dead thing. Shouldn't that be... I dunno, incompatible with storage or something? Can you just store people?

  What the fuck? How does that even work?"

  No one had an answer.

  Paul finally looked away from where the knife had fallen. He seemed steadier now, like having the body gone had lifted something. "We should go back," he said. His voice was rough. "Like Liam said.

  Mike needs to know about this. And..." He shuddered. "There could be more of these things out here."

  The others nodded. No argument. No hesitation.

  They stood in the field where the goblin had died, catching their breath, trying to settle their racing hearts. Some faced toward town. Some faced the forest. All of them were still shaky, still processing.

  A figure stepped out of the treeline.

  She moved with fluid confidence. Tall. Black hair with a white streak running through it. Her ears weren't human. Her eyes were golden and slit-pupilled. A tail, striped with white through black fur, moved slowly behind her.

  She wore armor over practical clothes. A sword hung at her hip, scabbarded and worn from use.

  The boys froze.

  Not the panic freeze of combat. Something else entirely. The freeze of seeing something that shouldn't exist. Something intelligent. Something that proved they weren't alone. Something that proved everything was far stranger than they'd thought.

  She stopped about ten meters away and looked at them. Her golden eyes tracked across all five of them, assessing.

  "Well," she said, her voice steady and curious, "that was quite interesting."