Chapter 7: Bonds of Vengeance

  They moved in tense silence, sticking close to the walls. The emergency lights flickered, painting the hallway in erratic bursts of amber and shadow.

  Then the receptionist froze. "Do you... smell that?"

  The scent hit them all at once—earthy and cloying, like wet laundry left too long in the machine. Wei Kit gagged. "Smells like my hallmate's forgotten tempeh experiment."

  The mold wasn't just growing—it was breathing, tendrils retracting slightly as they passed.

  Mrs. Sakamoto's ruler-turned-blade hummed louder. "Don't touch it."

  Ahmad poked a fallen ceiling tile with his boot. He barely had time to yelp before the mold lunged—a black, sinewy tendril snapping around his ankle like a whip. It hissed where it touched his skin, sending up curls of acrid smoke.

  "Aduh—!"

  Ahmad's brown skin glistened with sweat as the mold lashed around his ankle, the tendril sizzling against his hair-roughened calf. His sandal strap snapped as he jerked back, revealing thick black leg hair dusted with concrete powder from their earlier escape.

  Wei Kit's glasses flashed as he lunged forward, the lenses catching the emergency lights in a sudden white glare. His hands slapped his hands flashing gold as he slapped them against the mold. [Mend] pulsed—but instead of healing, the mold shrieked, recoiling as if scalded. The tendril withered, crumbling to ash. The healing light reflected off his smudged spectacles, casting twin sunspots across the collapsing ceiling tiles.

  Ahmad scrambled back, clutching his ankle. The skin was mottled with angry red welts, the edges already turning an unsettling shade of green. "Since when can you hurt things?"

  Wei Kit stared at his hands. "I... didn’t mean to?"

  A sound cut through the tension—guttural giggles, too rhythmic to be random, punctuated by odd, hiccuping cheers that sounded almost... organized.

  Mrs. Sakamoto's whisper cut through the chaos like a blade through rice paper: "Hide."

  They scattered. Ahmad rolled behind a toppled vending machine, his hairy legs scraping against broken glass. The others melted into shadows - behind splintered cubicle walls, under conference tables, anywhere the flickering lights didn't reach. Kylie pressed herself into the shadow of a shattered water cooler, the [Guillotine of Bureaucracy] held tight against her chest.

  Peeking through the wreckage, she saw them.

  Goblins.

  But not the usual chaotic, screeching mob. These moved with purpose, their gangly limbs no longer twitching with mindless hunger.

  The sounds came first - a cacophony of wet clicks and guttural chitters that set Kylie's teeth on edge. Not words, not even close, but something disturbingly organized in their cadence.

  "Kik-ki-rak!"

  "Sssskt! Gra-gra-nak!"

  "Haaaaak-tssss!"

  Peering from behind the shattered water cooler, Kylie watched the goblins' bulbous eyes flash in the dim light. Their rubbery lips smacked together as they communicated, yellowed claws gesturing in what might have been some crude system of meaning. One goblin - its ears pierced with paperclips - made a series of rapid throat clicks that sent the others scrambling.

  Then, as one, the creatures fell silent and parted.

  The procession that emerged made Kylie's stomach turn. Humans, their wrists bound with Ethernet cables, dragged forward like livestock. The goblins' excited gibberish rose again, now accompanied by grotesque pantomimes - one mimed chewing, another rubbed its distended belly, a third clacked two stolen staplers together like a chef sharpening knives.

  At the center of the makeshift kitchen stood a monstrous goblin clad in a makeshift apron of shredded documents, its gangly arms stirring a filing cabinet drawer filled with boiling...something. The liquid glistened unnaturally, its surface reflecting the emergency lights in rainbow swirls.

  The leader goblin threw back its head and emitted a sound like a fax machine choking:

  "KREEEEE-SSSSSK!"

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The response came instantly from its underlings:

  "Tak-tak-TAK!"

  Ahmad's breath hitched.

  The guttural chattering of the goblins reached a fever pitch as two scrawny creatures emerged from a side corridor, dragging a bound figure between them. The man’s dark skin gleamed with sweat, his usually neat curls now tangled and matted against his forehead.

  Ethernet cables coiled around his arms and legs, biting into the fabric of his once-pristine dress shirt—the same shirt Kylie had seen him wear during parent-teacher meetings.

  Mr. Rajan.

  Ahmad sucked in a sharp breath. "Aiyo, they got the building manager!" he hissed under his breath, his fingers tightening around his weapon - Dyson V11 Cordless Vacuum Cleaner.

  Kylie’s pulse roared in her ears.

  [Individual Quest: Protect the Innocents] flickered in her vision—

  Saaral’s father was right there. If she could save him, she’d be one step closer to fulfilling her promise.

  The goblins shoved Mr. Rajan forward, their claws leaving red marks on his skin. He stumbled but didn’t fall, his jaw set in defiance even as his eyes darted around—searching for an escape, for help.

  The largest goblin, its belly straining against a makeshift apron of shredded documents, let out a wet, clicking laugh.

  "Krrrk-sssst!" It raised a rusted letter opener, the metal glinting ominously under the flickering lights.

  Mrs. Sakamoto’s grip on her architectural scale ruler didn’t waver, but Kylie saw the minute tightening of her knuckles—anger and worry, carefully controlled.

  Serena leaned in, her voice a whisper. "We get him. Now."

  Wei Kit adjusted his glasses, the lenses flashing as he readied [Mend]. "Just say the word."

  Kylie exhaled slowly, her fingers flexing around the [Guillotine of Bureaucracy] as she watched the goblins shove Mr. Rajan toward the bubbling water cooler. The cables bit deeper into his wrists with every stumble. Saaral's face flashed in her mind—how she'd promised to keep them all safe.

  "I..." Her voice caught. The others turned. "I could try... taming one."

  A beat of silence. Then a low, vibrating chuckle from Serena, her shoulders shaking as she pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle the sound. "Tea break with a traitor goblin," she murmured, her dark eyes glittering with amusement. "Best company meeting ever."

  Wei Kit's glasses slid down his nose. "You want to what now?"

  Mrs. Sakamoto's chocolate brown hair fluttered as her ruler pulsed once—a silent question.

  Kylie swallowed. "[Nurturer's Covenant - Ephemeral Bond]. It lets me... borrow a monster's will. For five minutes."

  Ahmad adjusted his grip on the shrieking vacuum. "Better than nothing lah. But if it bites—"

  "Then we kill it at four minutes forty-five," Mrs. Sakamoto finished, her gaze locked on the smallest goblin—a scrawny thing paperclips for necklace.

  Kylie exhaled, and the world dissolved.

  [SYSTEM INITIATED: NURTURER'S COVENANT - SOULGAZE PROTOCOL]

  "To tame a monster, you must first understand its heart."

  Kylie's vision fractured—

  —and she fell into the goblin's memories.

  The dilapidated corridor vanished. The stench of mold and blood faded. For a heartbeat, she stood somewhere else—somewhere deeper—where the air thrummed with the goblin’s memories like a struck chord.

  She saw him—really saw him.

  Not just the yellowed claws or the odd twitching ear, but the life behind its snarl.

  ---

  He was small. Smaller than the others.

  The boss goblin—the Gourmand—loomed over him, its belly distended from stolen meals, its claws flicking half-eaten scraps at him like he was nothing. "Krrk-ssst!" it sneered.

  Weakling. Useless.

  A backhanded strike sent the smaller goblin sprawling. The others laughed, their chittering voices sharp with mockery.

  The others laughed. Even her—the female goblin with the shredded Post-it note skirt, the one he’d tried to impress by offering a perfectly intact paperclip. She’d tossed it back in his face, chittering mockingly before following the bigger, stronger goblins.

  He’d sat there, clutching the paperclip, his claws trembling.

  He hated them.

  Hated the way they shoved him toward the dangerous tasks.

  Hated how they stole his food.

  Hated that no matter how hard he tried, he was always less.

  And most of all, he hated the Gourmand’s prized stapler—the symbol of its power, clutched in its fat claws like a scepter.

  Alone, the goblin clutched a bent paperclip, his yellowed claws trembling.

  Kylie felt it then—the hot, writhing hate coiled in his chest. Not just for the Gourmand, but for the hierarchy that kept him small.

  [DIALOGUE INITIATED: SOUL WHISPER]

  She didn’t know if he could hear her, but she spoke anyway, her voice soft but sure.

  "You’re stronger than they think."

  The goblin’s head snapped up, as if sensing her presence.

  "You fight harder than any of them," Kylie murmured. The words glowed golden between them. "They're just too blind to see it."

  His beady eyes widened.

  "You don’t have to be big to be fierce."

  The memory rippled. The goblin's claws tightened around the paperclip.

  "Let me show you how strong you really are."

  The vision shattered.

  [NURTURER'S COVENANT BOND: SUCCESS]

  ---

  Kylie gasped as she snapped back to the present, the emerald light of [Nurturer’s Covenant] flaring around her hands. The scrawny goblin froze mid-snarl, its eyes locking onto hers, wide with something like recognition. Then, slowly, horrifyingly—it smiled.

  [BOND ESTABLISHED: EPHEMERAL NURTURER'S COVENANT]

  Contract Terms:

  - Duration: 00:05:00

  - Primary Directive: PROVE HIS WORTH

  - Secondary Directive: PROTECT KYLIE LEE

  For the first time, it wasn’t just a monster.

  It was seen.

  The bond snapped into place.

  And then—

  Revenge.

  The goblin whirled and sank its teeth into the Gourmand’s thigh with a shriek.

  [SYSTEM NOTICE]

  "Warning: Tamed subject shows 200% increased aggression toward former superiors."

  Chaos erupted.