PactBound

The small town of Falkridge lay quiet at the edge of the Tovar Woodlands, its makeshift stone walls glistening under the steady autumn rain. Winter was beginning to break through the chill in the air, and the rain fell in a rhythmic *pitter-patter* against the rooftops. A modest house stood on the outskirts of the town, nestled against the stone wall. A weathered wooden fence encircled the yard, its posts slightly crooked but sturdy, marking the boundary between the warmth of home and the wilds beyond. Warm light spilled from the house's windows, a beacon against the encroaching darkness.

Inside, the air was thick with the sweet, earthy aroma of stew simmering over the hearth. The soft *clink* of wooden spoons against bowls mingled with the bright laughter of two young girls. Emily, the eldest at seven, and Anna, her four-year-old sister, sat at the dining table, their eyes glued to a new doll their mother had brought home earlier that day. The doll was simple—a cloth body with button eyes—but the strands of red twine that mimicked hair made it special. Emily held it proudly, her tiny fingers brushing over the twine as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

*CLICK. CREEK.*

The front door groaned open, and a gust of cold, wet air swept into the room. Klein stepped inside, soaked from head to toe, his waxed leather jacket dripping onto the wooden floor with a soft *plip-plop*. He set his bag down with a muffled *thud* and hung the coat over it, shaking the rain from his hair with a sharp *flick*. With a practiced motion, he unbuckled the scabbard from his side and leaned the sword against the wall near the door, the metal *clinking* softly as it settled into place. He bent down to take off his boots, but before he could even loosen the laces, Emily and Anna were at his side, their footsteps a rapid *patter* against the floor.

"Dad! Look what Mom got me today!" Emily exclaimed, holding up the doll with a wide grin.

Klein smiled, his green eyes softening as he looked down at his daughter. "Oh, that's nice. Have you named her yet?"

Before Emily could answer, Anna tugged at his hand, her tiny fingers gripping his sleeve. "I got a horsey! Come, I show you!" she insisted, her voice bubbling excitedly.

Klein chuckled, but Elizabeth's voice called from the kitchen before he could take a step. "No, dinner's almost ready. You can show him after we eat."

Anna pouted, but a gentle *pat-pat* on the head from her father quickly brought a smile back to her face. "We'll play after dinner, sweetie," he promised, his voice warm.

---

The family gathered around the dining table, the girls scooting their chairs closer together with a soft *scrape*. Emily continued to play with her doll, the faint *rustle* of the cloth filling the room as Elizabeth placed a steaming loaf of bread at the center of the table. The dark red crust gave off a faintly sweet, earthy aroma, and the *thunk* of the platter against the wood echoed softly.

"How was your day?" Elizabeth asked, her blue eyes meeting his as she kissed him softly.

"It was okay. We stayed busy," Klein replied, his gaze drifting to his daughters. "Still having issues with the caravans. The number of night creatures has almost doubled, and we have no clue where they're coming from."

Elizabeth's expression darkened, but she quickly masked it with a smile as she began serving the stew. The rich, milky-orange broth sloshed into the bowls with a gentle *splish*, the sound mingling with the soft *clink* of the ladle against the pot.

"What's a night creature?" Emily asked, looking up from her doll, her curiosity piqued.

Elizabeth shot Klein a warning glance before answering. "Nothing you girls need to worry about. Now, put the doll down—it's time to eat."

"Yes, ma'am," Emily said obediently, setting the doll aside with a soft *thump* and scooting her chair closer to the table.

---

As they ate, the conversation turned lighter. Klein complimented Elizabeth on the bread, which she admitted was her second attempt at using goblin mash. "It's hard to work with, honestly," she laughed. "Kar's wife makes it look so easy."

Klein grinned, tearing off a piece of the dark red loaf. The crust's crunch gave way to the soft, chewy interior, and the fermented mash's sweet, slightly tart flavor shined through. "Well, you're getting better. The bread is delicious."

Elizabeth smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. "Kar was kind enough to give us some of the mash. He said his wife made a fresh batch last week."

Klein nodded, his expression softening. Kar, his goblin captain, had been a steadfast friend and mentor since Klein was first stationed in Falkridge. Kar had always treated Klein like family despite the growing tensions between humans and goblins in other regions. It was a relationship Klein valued deeply, even if others in the town didn't always understand it.

"Kar's a good man," Klein said, his voice thoughtful. "And his wife's mash is the best in the Woodlands. You're doing her proud, Liz."

Elizabeth smiled, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes. "I've heard rumors about other regions… about how they're treating goblins. It's unsettling."

Klein's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice calm for the girls' sake. "Falkridge is different. It always has been. Here, humans and goblins rely on each other. We've built a community together, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. Kar and his family are proof of that."

Elizabeth nodded, but the worry didn't entirely leave her face. Klein reached across the table, his hand finding hers with a soft *squeeze*. "We'll get through this," he whispered, his voice steady.

Klein nodded, his gaze shifting to his daughters. He would protect them, no matter what.

---

*THUD.*

The sound was sudden and jarring, cutting through the room's warmth like a knife. Everyone froze, their eyes darting to the front door.

*SLIIIIIDE.*

Something heavy slid down the door, the sound slow and ominous, leaving an eerie silence. Klein and Elizabeth exchanged a glance, their unease palpable.

"Girls," Klein said, his voice low but firm. "Stay here, okay?"

He rose from the table, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor with a sharp *screech*. Moving quickly, he crossed the living room, his boots thudding softly against the wooden floor. His hand reached for the sword leaning against the wall near the door, the *shing* of steel ringing out as he drew it. Elizabeth followed, stopping in the kitchen doorway as Klein cautiously approached the door. The *creak* of the hinges echoed as he opened it slowly, his heart pounding in his chest.

There, slumped against the doorframe, was a man. His clothes were tattered, and his body was coated in a strange, slime-like substance that dripped onto the floor with a soft *plop-plop.* It took Klein a moment to recognize him.

"Lancer?" he whispered, his voice filled with shock.

Lancer had been missing for nearly a month. A skilled fighter and one of Klein's closest friends, he had vanished while patrolling one of the more treacherous regions of the Tovar Woodlands—a dense, shadowy stretch of forest where the trees grew unnaturally close, and the air was thick with an eerie stillness. The search parties had found nothing—no tracks, no signs of a struggle. It was as if he had disappeared into the shadows. And now, here he was, collapsed on their doorstep, his body covered in that unnatural slime.

"Lancer!" Klein called, dropping to his knees beside his friend. He shook him gently, his hands coming away slick with the strange substance. "Lancer, can you hear me?"

Klein's heart pounded as he stared at Lancer's slumped form. The man's breath came in ragged gasps, his body twitching unnaturally. The slime coating his skin glistened in the dim light, its faint, acrid smell making Klein's stomach churn.

"Lancer!" Klein called again, his voice sharper this time. He shook his friend's shoulder, but there was no response—only a low, guttural growl that sent a chill down Klein's spine.

Elizabeth stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached out. "Klein, what's wrong with him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before Klein could answer, Lancer's head snapped up. His eyes, once a warm brown, now glowed a sickly red, the pupils dilated and feral. His lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing jagged, uneven teeth that seemed too large for his mouth—sharp and yellowed, like the fangs of a beast. Thick strands of saliva dripped from his gums, hanging in glistening threads before splattering onto the floor with a wet *plop*. His breath came in ragged, guttural growls, each exhale carrying a faint, acrid stench that made Klein's stomach churn.

Klein took a sharp step back, raising his sword and leveling the point at Lancer. His hands tightened around the hilt, his heart pounding as he stared at his friend—or whatever his friend had become. "Lancer…" he whispered, his voice trembling. "What happened to you?"

Lancer's body twitched unnaturally, his limbs jerking as if controlled by some unseen force. The slime coating his skin seemed to pulse faintly, as though alive, and his fingernails extended into sharp claws, blackened and jagged, like shards of obsidian. His head tilted to the side with a sickening *crack*, and a low, guttural sound escaped his throat—a sound that was neither human nor animal but something far worse.

Elizabeth's face went pale, her voice trembling as she took a step back. "There's no way…" she whispered, her eyes wide with horror. "Klein, is he a—"

Before she could finish, Lancer lunged.