Engin

  “CHASERS! CHASERS!” Little Tommy, the one-armed boy, came sprinting into Elenora Estate, interrupting a weekly game of kickball his fellow orphans were playing in the courtyard.

  “The chasers are here! The chasers are here! Chasers in Sorens Peak! I saw them with my own eyes!”

  He was huffing like he had just run a marathon, holding onto his chest while the other orphans circled him.

  Mabel, the toffee loving girl, smacked Little Tommy on the back of his head as she always did. “Oy Tommy! What have I said about lying!”

  “No Mabe!” Tommy shook his head. “I’m tellin the truth. I swear it!”

  “Pfft– what’s new eh, Little Tommy’s waffling about the chasers again,” snorted Boog, the big-lipped orphan, tossing a kickball from one hand to another.

  “AM NOT!” Little Tommy barked defiantly. “I saw them. Near old man Monty’s shop. They was wearing tempest gear and mounted on landstags!”

  Mabel smacked Little Tommy again. “Were, Tommy, were. They were wearing tempest gear. You’re talking like a backward again.”

  “That’s what happens when you’re always in the company of one,” taunted Boog. “What was her name again, Tommy? That little backwards girl you always follow around. Erna, was it?”

  Tommy’s excitement had died down to a cold frown. “It’s Eina… her name is Eina.”

  Boog moved in closer to Tommy. “And where is it that you and Eina run off to all the time anyways? Is it to the shanties? Where all the other dent-headed spazs like to hang around?”

  There were a few giggles from the orphan crowd, but most had reserved themselves to an uncomfortable silence. Boog on the other hand was quite amused by himself, sneering with pride.

  “Stop calling her that,” gritted Tommy.

  Boog placed a firm hand on Little Tommy’s shoulder, looming over him with his wide head.

  “But that is what she is, is it not?” he smirked. “A spaz.”

  Tommy shrugged Boog’s hand off his shoulder.

  Boog’s grin turned smug at that, as if he enjoyed it. “The cripple and the spaz, everyone!” He spun around. “The next big ballad of romance in Sorens Peak!”

  “Stop it, Boog.” Mabel spoke up.

  “Sure to make all of the palsies in the city jump out of their wheelchairs and cry!” Boog ignored her.

  “Let him say his worst, Mabe,” scowled Little Tommy, his eyes now telling a furious tale. “I’ve been called much worse than anything a knob-head like Boog could come up with.”

  Boog whipped back around and grabbed a handful of Tommy’s shirt. “Say that again, I dare you.”

  “Let me go, you oaf!”

  “Oy!” Krip pushed forward from the huddle. “Watch your tone, Tommy.”

  Krip was the tallest of the orphans. A formidable bully with broad shoulders and long arms.

  “Boog is our eldest and you’ll show him the proper respect. Apologize. Now.”

  “Are you kidding! He was being disrespectful first!” Tommy retorted.

  “I said- watch your mouth!” Krip shoved Tommy to the ground with scary ease.

  He had a short wick on him, perhaps already having had enough of the cripple’s brave refusal to toe the line.

  The entire huddle took a few steps back, unwilling to stand in Krip’s way.

  All but one of course.

  Engin, the troublemaker boy, had been watching the scene unfold rather patiently for his own standards. And while the rest of the orphans backed away so as not to interfere, Engin took a few steps forward, planting his feet into the ground with intention.

  “Leave him the hell alone, Krip!”

  With clenched fists and a burning rage, Engin lunged towards Krip and shoved him as far as he could.

  The crowd of orphans gasped loudly, startled by his guts to challenge the biggest bully in the orphanage.

  Engin’s eyes were a bitter caramel that afternoon, and he had enough spite within him to roll over a mammothan. He was getting tired of Krip’s tyranny. Just in the last month alone, Krip and Boog had stolen from his secret coin stash, snitched on him multiple times to the caretakers and gotten innocent little Perry into trouble with Burn.

  It was time to stand up for himself, and a few of the others as well.

  “Did you just push me, you little shit!” Krip’s face flushed beet red.

  Engin wiped away the warm blood clotting on his lip from when he had been elbowed during the kickball game earlier. “I did. What’re you going to do about it-”

  From his blind-side, Boog came pouncing towards Engin like a raging bear. With little time to react, Engin took it head-on. A fierce grapple turned into a headlock, and then eventually a takedown by the much larger Boog.

  The flagstone floor of the courtyard felt hard and cold on his backbones, perhaps a bruise or two taken on from the impact of their fall. But Engin wasn’t going to let Boog just have his way. He scratched and rolled, digging knuckles and elbows into Boog wherever he could.

  Boog tried to pin him to the ground flat, but Engin found an escape in the chaos. He got in one good knee, straight to the nose, which rattled Boog as he cursed to the heavens.

  “AGHH!”

  Engin felt a strong tug on his hair, pulled backwards by Krip like he was a doll.

  “Let go of me!” he struggled.

  “I’m going to kill you, you little shit!”

  “Let him go, Krip!” Mabel yelled, trying to intervene.

  Engin squirmed some more, tugging and turning to loosen Krip’s hold on him. But even at the expense of all his energy, Krip was just so much stronger. He felt the blade of Krip’s forearm gradually close in on his neck, his pipes contracting in slow suffocation.

  “Stop it, you bully! He can’t breathe!” yelled Perry, the quiet orphan, trying to get into the fold.

  “That’s ENOUGH, Krip!”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Mabel finally got in between the two, prying them apart, just in time before things escalated any further. She freed Engin’s hair from Krip and stood in front of him like a shield.

  “You busted my nose, you mudguss!” Boog cried out, holding onto his nostrils.

  Engin was out of breath, coughing up a fit and still seething with anger. “-and I’ll do it again!”

  “You rat-”

  “No! NO – more – fighting! All of you! Or I’m telling Mr. Piggot!” warned Mabel.

  Like the devil answering to the call of his name, Burn Majesterie Piggot emerged from the depths of whatever hell had birthed him, hammering away at his favorite gong. The sharp tones of the vibrating metal pierced through the air like a hot knife, enough to cause every orphan in the vicinity to clap their hands over their ears.

  “ENGIN!” Burn called out, cheeks flapping like tarps in the wind. “BOY, I’VE JUST ABOUT HAD IT WITH YOU!”

  Burn’s stride had become less of a stride and more of a waddle over the years. And his face; wide like a walrus, perched atop a body that could only be described as gross and bloated. An ugly yellow cravat hid behind the struggle of his doublet that afternoon, and a dark-brown suit jacket covered the rest. The countless nights of indulging in the Lady’s booze were indeed starting to take their toll.

  Out of the five caretakers who served under the lady, Elenora, Burn was the worst of them all. It didn’t help that Engin was also Burn’s least favorite orphan, credit owing to Krip and Boog for instigating a lot of the animosity.

  Those darn snitches.

  Burn raised a fat finger towards Engin, falling into his typical scolding manner as he approached the orphans. “I should slap you for this, boy!” he growled. “You know the rules-”

  “Mr. Piggot, it wasn’t just him-”

  “QUIET MABEL!” Burn snapped.

  “Yes, Mr. Piggot.” Mabel apologized immediately. “Sorry, Mr. Piggot.”

  “I will not stand for this sort of backwards behavior on this estate!”

  “Krip pushed Tommy first!” Engin protested.

  “I don’t care who did what first!”

  “Why aren’t you yelling at them!”

  Engin's defiance earned him a tight slap across the face. He froze in shock, the blood beneath his cheek boiling upwards to take the form of a misshapen hand.

  He’d never been struck before. Not like that. Lady Elenora rarely allowed any of the caretakers to raise a hand that she wouldn’t raise herself. Discipline was often served with a ruler or the back of a hardcover on her estate. But a slap in the face? That brought a different level of shame. A nasty bruise to one’s pride. Something Engin had never considered up until that very moment.

  He wanted to cry, and he almost did, but the little fight that was left in him pushed the tears back down, unwilling to give the others another reason to laugh at him.

  Burn was furious. You’d struggle to find a day when he didn’t roll out of bed irked or hammered from the night before, but as deplorable as a man he was, even he would think twice before laying a hand on the orphans. Lady Elenora’s wrath was something he always looked to avoid, at all costs, often weaseling his way out of bad situations like the rat that he was.

  And he was very successful at it. Engin couldn’t deny that. It was the one thing Burn was good at: manipulating the lady, playing at her weaknesses, and staying on her good side, no matter the circumstance.

  But over the last month, Burn was showing a new side of himself, a vile one, a confident one, one that wasn’t afraid of repercussions… and that made Engin sick.

  “This is the third time this week I’ve had to deal with your insolent behavior, boy,” spat Burn. “The lady has been working day and night to provide for this estate, provide for your education, provide for your future, and this is the kind of behavior that you will honor her with? Fighting each other like street dogs? Where has your sense of gratitude gone?”

  Engin was staring at his own feet, but he could feel Burn’s beady eyes looking down on him.

  “You are not children of the shanties! You are the children of a Lady, and a very respectable one at that. The sooner you drive that through your thick skulls, the better-”

  “-what in god’s name are you doing, boy?” Burn snarled, snapping his attention onto Boog who was hunched over and whining like a baby.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Piggot, it hurts a lot, Mr. Piggot!” Boog cried out, his voice a few pitches higher than normal. “I think it’s broken.”

  “He’s leaking,” Mabel pointed out.

  Engin stared at the pool of blood that had stained the courtyard floor beneath Boog.

  Serves him right.

  Burn looked Boog up and down, his eyes holding nothing but pure disgust. “Well, go on then, stop moaning like a little girl and go get yourself cleaned up,” he ordered. “I’ll have Madame Song come check up on you later.”

  “Yes, Mr. Piggot.”

  “And wait-” Burn stopped Boog with his heavy arm. He looked into his eyes for a moment and then at the rest of the orphans. “Not a word of this to the Lady, you hear? You tripped and you fell while you were playing. Nothing else.”

  Engin watched Boog nod his head and then hobble away into the manor, still clutching at his nose with both hands.

  “Idiot boy.” Engin heard Burn mutter to himself.

  “You’ll be scrubbing this off of the floor, Engin.” Burn turned back around.

  “Yes, Mr. Piggot,” Engin acknowledged lowly.

  “And you will be punished. All of you-”

  Burn was interrupted yet again, but this time by the heavy tolls of the city’s belltowers. His eyes twitched as if he wanted to throw a fit, but he slowly reeled back with every consecutive toll.

  One by one the airways of Sorens Peak filled with the ringing of cathedral bells. The East Tower, the South Tower, the West Tower... and then...

  “They tolled the North Tower!” gasped Cede, the orphan with eyeglasses. “That’s the North Tower, Mr. Piggot!”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Is it a mistake?”

  “Quiet!” Burn shouted, stopping the imminent panic within the huddle.

  It was at that moment that the old foghorn sitting atop the city’s forecast bastion began to wail a very low and mournful warning.

  Engin’s arms sprouted immediate gooseflesh, stretching far and wide like the tired notes of the horn blast.

  A bone-chilling silence befell the courtyard at its end, every orphan frozen to their place in fear, waiting on Burn to give them direction.

  To the east, a murder of crows circled and cawed about the estate’s largest evergreen as if one of their own had perished underneath.

  “It’s the Kreaman Fog, Mr. Piggot!” declared Mabel, breaking the silence. “It’s come early this year!”

  More and more birds took to the skies all around them; broods of black, brown and grey, erupting high-pitched squeals as they migrated south in urgent tandem.

  Burn had a nervous look about him, terrified almost, as if he’d never lived through the fog before. Of course, that wasn’t the case, anyone who’d ever spent more than a year in Sorens Peak had experienced it at least once, and Burn had spent a lifetime.

  “Everyone to your rooms,” he ordered, the command in his voice a few notches lower than before. “Mabel, round up the other girls and tell them to do the same. I will go inform the Lady.”

  As the late afternoon sun died behind curtains of bruised overcast, the orphans of Elenora Estate flocked into the manor in a jittery silence.

  Engin broke away from the group, noticing a brooding Little Tommy scurry off upstairs when no one was looking. He found Tommy in the frame-filled corridor that led to Lady Elenora’s old room, sitting against a big bay window, hugging his knees.

  “Coming, Tommy?”

  Tommy looked up from his silent somber. His eyes were faintly red; wet and swollen from the tears he’d shed.

  “Mmm.” He nodded, quickly turning away.

  “Don’t think about it too much, okay? You know how they are-”

  “-I didn’t need your help.” Tommy blurted, quite bitterly.

  Engin dropped his thoughtful smile. “No... but I didn’t do it just for you.”

  “Liar.”

  “I didn’t!” Engin tried to reassure. “They had it coming, and you know it, Tommy.”

  “You’s all still think I’m weak, I know that.”

  “That’s not true! I don’t think that! Nor does Perry or Mabe.”

  “Bullshit! I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care!”

  Engin immediately regretted the way his words had come out.

  Tommy didn’t back down. “I can handle myself Engin. I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s!”

  “That’s not what I was doing! Krip elbowed me while we were playing earlier. I was just getting my payback, Tommy.”

  “No!” Tommy shook his head furiously. “It was my fight, and you should’ve stayed out of it. All you did was make things worse, Engin. That’s all you ever do!”

  “Is everything alright?”

  Perry had walked back to find them. A curious but cautious look drooped over his face.

  “…everything is fine,” scoffed Little Tommy, standing up. “Just leave me alone.”

  He brushed past Perry, avoiding any eye contact with Engin, before leaving the two boys all alone in the corridor.

  Perry slumped his shoulders and sighed once he knew Tommy was gone. “I feel horrible. Boog shouldn’t have said all those things.”

  Engin walked up beside him. “Boog is an instigator. But he only does it because he knows Krip has his back. They’re both dicks.”

  Perry’s face had lost some color, probably numb from all the conflict he’d seen.

  “He is right you know; you shouldn’t have gotten involved like that.”

  Engin broke their eye contact.

  “They were pushing him around, Perr.”

  “I know… but... Mr. Piggot is already so hard on you,” stressed Perry. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Engin put his arm around Perry, pulling him close. He was his best friend, the only orphan apart from Mabel that he felt like he could share anything with. “I had to do it, Perry. You just... you wouldn’t understand...”

  “I do understand.”

  Engin shook his head. “They were going to make him do something he was going to regret. I could see it in his eyes, Perr. It’s not the same for him. He’s been through more than enough.”

  Perry gave Engin a weak smile.

  “I guess you are right.”

  Engin was tired. Tired of all the bickering. It felt like he’d exhausted a week’s worth of his energy all in one day.

  Perry finally broke away, pulling on Engin’s dirtied garments. “We’d better head back down then, before Mr. Piggot notices. And you’d better get changed.”

  “Mhm.”

  “You’re okay then?”

  Engin stared out of the window one last time, almost hoping to see the fresh gloom of the fog roll in before them.

  “Better than Boog, that’s for sure.”