After the fall of Europe, aspirations of immortality were no longer folly. They had become fact. Sold to the highest bidder, eternal life had become a commodity marking the difference between men. No longer did the rich and the poor share a common destiny. No longer could the unfortunate outlast the fortunate. Mankind now reached ever closer to the deities they had venerated for so long, the Tower of Babel attempted anew. Yet unlike at Babel, this tower would be toppled not by the hand of God, but by the myriad of tortured hands that raised it.

  -Foreword to A Corpsman Attempts History

  Through the incessant sounds of agony surrounding Andrius, empathy was dead and buried. The body on the ground was only another headstone in the mass graveyard that Europe had become. Yet if Andrius dug deep enough, he could, if only momentarily, raise some semblance of empathy from the depths of apathy.

  “That poor woman.” was all he could muster this time.

  “Yes.” Will replied, sullenly. “Lying face down, not even able to see the stars for the rest of her…” He paused. “Can being in that… state even be called living?”

  “I was wondering when you would ask that.” Andrius replied. In his 50-ish years of age he had seen more suffering than most. He thought he was used to it by now, but the sinking feeling in his stomach still reared its head when he had to work.

  The body on the cobbled city square was bathed in the silvery glow of moonlight, wearing a tattered, threadbare trenchcoat and pyjama pants. Something covered up most of her face and upper body, a gyrating, slick blob of a viscous, oily substance. It convulsed around her right arm, every movement bringing pain to her ragged voice. She was but one in a choir of subdued, tortured groaning.

  Others like her laid strewn around the overgrown plaza. A child in swimming trunks laid still in the overflowing remains of a fountain, with a dark mass covering its head. Half of the fountain was pierced by a large, thick tree, its leaves teetering on the precipice of autumn.

  Andrius looked for nearby bodies. A police officer laid propped up against a wall next to a broken window, almost motionless. His head was uncovered, the mass draped over his lower body like a wet blanket. His eyes were open, sheepishly moving, full of panic, pain and desperation. Like a trapped animal struggling in vain against its shackle.

  The air in the town was clean, and filled with the sounds of despair. For the deaf it would have seemed a tranquil place: grass swaying between the cobblestones they protruded from, flowers blooming along the vines on the buildings like garlands on a christmas tree, starlight twinkling in the water of the fountain.

  Sadly, Andrius was not deaf.

  Will looked at him, still awaiting a reply. In his bright pink jumpsuit, mint green boots and unicorn insignia worn - somewhat begrudgingly - on his arm, Will looked wholly out of place. The baby-blue rucksack he carried, full of supplies, didn’t help.

  Andrius looked no different, except for the backpack with its carrying tank and the two meter long candycane-staff in his hand marking him for a Syphoner.

  Andrius thought Will’s question over. Barely a week in the Corps and already asking questions, huh. This very question first appeared in Andrius’ mind after two weeks, while in the jumpseat of an extraction-helicopter after a particularly gruelling mission…

  Andrius shook himself out of the reverie before it could begin. “That depends on who you ask, mate. I ain’t no philosopher, but if a person’s breathin’, they’re alive in my book. Though none of that matters to her, does it?”

  He crouched a good distance from the victim and examined it, letting his answer hang in the air for a while. “She might technically be alive, but a life in misery is no way to live.” But life in the Corps isn’t too far from it.

  He had to remind himself of how new his apprentice was. Andrius was a veteran of the Corps, nearly two weeks in. And with a whole week left to go, he thought with despair.

  Will had only been there three days, this being his second mission. They had become fast friends, even though Andrius knew to avoid it. Friendship hadn’t gone so well the last time. This replacement for his old partner seemed more inquisitive than most, a bad sign. The curious didn’t last long in the Corps. A memory came unbidden to his mind. Forgive me, Ellie.

  “I-I do not suppose it is, sir.” Will shifted his weight from foot to foot, his mind loaded with questions. “Can she still think, though? And feel?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  Will looked away as Andrius lifted the gyrating, slimy mass off the victim's torso and right arm - or what remained of it - and onto her left.

  The victim let out an anguished whimper when Will dared to peek down at her arm: eaten off at the elbow.

  Andrius thought over his apprentice’s question. Why does it matter to you? He kept it to himself. He’ll stop caring soon, either way.

  Andrius stood up and clicked a button on his staff. A sharpened wooden syphon, like an enlarged needle, protruded from the bottom. Jutting out from the other end of the cane was an opaque tube, connected to the large glass tank on his back.

  He looked to Will before jamming the staff into the open wound. The body started moving sluggishly, attempting to pull the arm away from the cane. “Hurry boy, do your job!”

  Will pulled out a hand-pump and attached it to the tank. As he began working the syphon’s pump, it whirred and drew a vacuum.

  A few seconds went by, and a viscous crimson liquid, flushed with streaks of blue, became visible in the tube. The victim’s usual subdued whimper became a gruelling muffled scream, and the stump began to move more hectically.

  The screaming roused the dark mass. It began to move off of the left side of her body, towards Andrius and Will. A round head, akin to a gargoyle, appeared from the mass. Its jaws slowly opened as it moved towards Andrius’ foot, stygian black eyes glinting in the moonlight. Will became restless, working the pump even faster. “Should we not disconnect soon?”

  “Oh shut the fuck up boy, I’m trying to empty this one. Now keep the pumping slow and steady, we’ve got more time!” Andrius’ old arms strained, keeping the syphon connected with the now vigorously flailing arm. The mass was only half a meter away.

  The victim’s face became visible as the mass moved, a bloodied and contorted mess of hair, tears, vomit and viscera. Her features were moving, yet barely human.

  The mass came within half a meter of Andrius’s foot, its oily black fangs dripping with venom. Andrius watched it slide, readying himself.

  Once withing striking distance, he removed the syphon and walked away.

  As he did, a sudden spurt of blood sprayed from the stump of the arm, covering Will’s left side.

  The mass angrily pursued until it seemingly stopped sensing their presence, and retreated to its victim. That had been easy - Andrius did not look forward to the ensuing ones.

  He checked up on Will - who was still in shock - and grinned. “The first time’s always the nastiest, mate.”

  Will, who hadn’t moved since he’d been sprayed, wiped his eye. “I hope so, this is dreadful.” He looked down at himself and ran a hand through his hair. He was even more disgusted as he looked at his hand again. “Oh bother, my hair as well?”

  “I’d be more worried about that uniform if I were you.” Andrius was still grinning, and for a while, the screams of those around him seemed to lessen a bit.

  Will looked resigned. “I will deal with that later. Anyway, do you always wait that long while syphoning? It’s disconcerting.”

  Andrius kicked a tuft of grass. “Stresses you out? Anyway mate, our mission here is to fill up this damned tank.” Andrius said, poking the exposed glass surface on his backpack. More of the same scarlet-blue liquid was visible inside. “Better to syphon a bit more from fewer victims than to syphon less from more.”

  “But don’t they get angrier after-”

  “Yes, the longer you wait, the longer the risk. But the more victims you do, the more they scream and the quicker those slimy buggers become.” Will was listening intently, studying his teacher’s face. Andrius sounded even older than he looked, and he wasn’t even that old.

  “The gargoyle that chased us?” Andrius continued, “Slow as. Now, this was our third victim, yeah? See how the bugger wasn’t all that alarmed? That’s ‘cause I picked our victims well, and took my time. See that you do the same once my sentence is done.”

  “Understood.” Will replied, uncertain.

  Andrius looked at his multicoloured wristband. A holographic “61” lit up from its underside - the quota for today’s mission. Finally, he thought. “Now let’s head back to extraction.”

  No one had ever bothered to tell him the name of this town, if it could even be called that anymore. It was relatively small compared to what Andrius was used to. The plaza they were in was at the center of the city, with a wide street stretching from the west of town to its eastern outskirts, a kilometer at most. Tiny.

  Andrius knew only what he could see; the remains of a quaint plaza. The buildings surrounding it were small compared to where he had grown up, only about two stories. Their facades were painted with words in a language he couldn’t understand. French or polish, maybe. Dead languages, anyway.

  It was rare to see a place so mangled by time. Or, it would’ve been, a few weeks ago. Now, he felt more of a kinship with the crumbling facades than the tall, narrow streets of London.

  Only a couple of buildings were truly standing, the rest gone to rot and disarray. The moss and the grass was slippery underfoot, the gnarled old oak sprouting from the fountain swayed in the breeze and the remains of lampposts were smothered by clingvines. This town, illuminated by the silvery shawl of the moon, would have been beautiful to those with eyes for the wonderful, but those had been forced out of Andrius long ago. No, two weeks ago. Was there even a difference?

  The two walked in silence, away from the city center and down the main road heading towards a park. The shallow warmth hanging in the air brought Andrius back to memories of misused, mischievous summer nights, almost drowning out the voices of suffering.

  Almost.

  More bodies with dark blobs on them lay strewn around the streets, intruding on his reminiscence. The masses slowly moved towards them as they walked by, but quickly slunk back, and howls of pain lessened and intensified accordingly. Some scared, broken eyes managed to follow them as they walked.

  “Andrius?” Will began, “Do their… noises ever go away?”

  “The screaming, you mean? Never heard one stop doing that for too long.”

  “No, I know that. I meant… are you ever able to ignore them? Do you ever stop hearing them?”

  “I started hearing ‘em less and less after my first week. Still hear ‘em though.” Andrius stopped, and gave Will a knowing look. “It’s just something you’ve gotta get used to. Do they scare you?”

  “Uhh, no it is not that.” Will replied. His uncertainty was obvious. “It is just that… they are very loud. They drown out everything else.”

  Andrius looked away and nodded, starting to walk again. “Those screams are important, mate. Never forget them. These are people we’re harvesting from. I only wish the captain and the bigwigs would see it the same. But no, they’ve gotta get their serum, and we’ve gotta risk eternity to get it for ‘em.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Indeed, I never really thought about where it came from when father-” Will suddenly stopped. “Nevermind.”

  Andrius eyed him suspiciously, but decided to let it go for now. If Will wanted to elaborate, he would.

  Come to think of it, how had Will ended up here? He seemed like a good man, early twenties. His face had a friendly look to it, though the intensity of his blue eyes took a while to get used to. What could he have done? He didn’t seem like the murderers, serum stealers and tax evaders that ended up in the Corps. Had he pissed off some rich kid, and gotten sent here to rot? Andrius never dared to ask, in keeping with the traditions of the Corps.

  Lost in thought, he had somehow entered the park and wandered over to a small pond. Leaves followed his eyes down to the water.

  The face that greeted him in the reflected surface was not one he had gotten used to. His long hair was gone. He didn’t know whether to chalk it up to a razor or pure stress. It could be both. The set of his eyes in that grizzled, compact face seemed foreign in its familiarity. Had it really been just two weeks? It felt like a lifetime. He could only imagine how the victims felt, if they could at all.

  “Andri, are you alright? You seem a bit disconnected today.” Another face showed up in the water. Will’s reflection looked concerned in the tranquil surface of the water. Andrius blinked in surprise at the nickname, then nodded sharply. “I’m fine. Now let’s go.”

  “You can tell me if something is up, Andri. You don’t have to be so shut off all the time. It can’t hurt to open up more.” Will said, smiling. How had someone so nice ended up here, with him?

  He adjusted his belt, carrying the knife he had earned a week ago.“Thanks, but leave it. I’m fine.” Those last two words came out more harshly than intended, but Will seemed to understand.

  They continued through the park in silence for a little while, broken only by the viscous sloshing in the tank on Andrius’ back. Well, that and the screaming. They followed a well trodden grassy path, lined by overgrown trees and smothered lampposts.

  Pensively, Will cleared his throat. “So. How long do you think she’s been here?” He pointed to a nearby victim, slumped up against a bench.

  “Not sure.” Andrius grumbled “She might be one of the first ones for all I know.”

  “That old?” Will replied. “How could you tell?”

  “The clothes. They dressed weirdly back then.” Its upper body was covered by a dark mass, but a pair of tattered blue jeans, ripped off at the knees, were visible. “Seriously, who the fuck would wear jeans?”

  “Oh?” Will started smiling in the way he usually did when he was about to say something he found witty. “And I suppose your outfit is normal?”

  Andrius failed to suppress a snort as he looked down on his pink jumpsuit. “Bloody hell mate, you got me there. At least mine doesn’t have blood all over it. Though you seem to wear the uniform quite naturally. D’ya work as a clown before you came here?”

  Will seemed slightly offended. “No, no clowning for me. Not professionally at least, I did enough of that back in school.”

  “You went to school?”

  “Oh be silent Andri, I am not as dumb as I look.”

  Will must’ve misunderstood. That wasn’t an insult, Andrius was envious.

  But he still wasn’t sure that Will had gone to school. He studied his apprentice’s face some more. It did have an oafish look to It. The refined accent betrayed it, however. Andrius hadn’t thought about it until now, but Will had probably lived quite a cushy life, at least compared to himself. He must’ve actually gone to school. He had probably had a bathtub, maybe even warm water.

  The bits of a Norwegian accent sprinkled into his speech hinted at sophistication. Norwegian was technically another lingua franca nowadays, but it was mostly spoken by the upper class. And the upper class were the only ones who could afford…

  Was that what he meant when he mentioned his father earlier? Andrius heavily considered asking him.

  “You sure about that, mate? What’s two plus two?” He said instead. Best to ask him later.

  “About as much pay as we get in a week.” Will replied somberly.

  “Great, now I’m sad again, Will.” The prospect of the 10 Crowns waiting for him at the end of the week brought down his mood. It was barely enough to get drunk on.

  “I am sorry, my friend.” Will looked at the surrounding trees. “It is hard not to be sad in these places. They wring any remaining effervescence out of me like water from a towel. Just listen.”

  Will listened for a moment, as did Andrius. The wailing was nearly overwhelming.

  “A tranquil park such as this one should be nearly silent, Andrius.” Andrius had never been to a park like this: there were none on his city-ship. Will looked on the verge of tears. “Some crickets, maybe. Frogs and ducks splashing in the pond. Life. But no, there is none of that. Only pain, unimaginable pain. It nearly brings me to madness, though I cannot fathom how they must feel, all of these… these soloists in the great choir.”

  Andrius nodded in solemn agreement. “And all so some lucky bastards can live forever. It’s not right.”

  “I’m afraid, Andrius.” Will said. “Deathly afraid of death. Even more so of… this.”

  Andrius nodded. “Me too. But it’s either or, mate.” He pointed to the woman on the bench. “You’ll die someday, or you end up like her.”

  “Not if I survive this place. If I manage to ascend, I would never have to worry about death ever again.”

  Then you’d still end up like her, he thought. But Will’s words were oddly moving. Andrius had abandoned for indifference what scant hope he had brought into the corps.

  “True enough. Is it worth it, though?”

  “What?”

  Andrius looked around. “What we do. What we risk, what we subject these poor people to.”

  “I do not know,” Will said, wiping away a tear. “I just want to live. Survive”

  “You Will,” Andrius sniffled, “I’ll make sure of it. Gargoyles be damned, I will.”

  “Thank you, Andrius. Truly.”

  They walked to the extraction point, an open field in the town’s park. It was smaller than indicated by Andrius’ little map, ringed by trees and a few benches.

  Clouds drifted in front of the moon, and the town turned to darkness. Andrius pulled out his flare gun and fired an extraction-flare, much to the dismay of a nearby gargoyle. A blinding neon orange wash illuminated the city, casting dancing shadows all around. The quaint park looked drowned in flame, except for those dark masses over barely moving bodies.They seemed to absorb the light like sponges.

  Will was also admiring the change in scenery. “So when is the helicopter going to arrive?”

  “We shoulda heard it by now.”Andrius went silent, listening for chopping above. There was none. Odd. “Where the fuck is the helicopter? I sent up the flare.”

  “No idea. By the way, can we move? That gargoyle over there is getting closer.” Will said, pointing to an agitated dark mass that had just moved off from its victim.

  “I see it, we just need to get the heli first. Can you get out the radio for me, mate?”

  “The radio? Do electronics not agitate-”

  “Yes, and I don't care, we need to get out of here now. We’ve been here too long.”

  Andrius could feel the liquid in his tank starting to solidify. Turning in a solidified tank would dock their already meagre pay, something Andrius was not keen on doing. That bastard of a lieutenant would have him flogged again, he wagered.

  Grass rustled as more and more gargoyles inched closer. Andrius saw them, calculating the risk. It had to be done.

  He took the radio from Will. His stomach knotted itself at the thought of pressing that button again.

  But it had to be done. “Awaiting extraction at the open field in the park. Using electronics here, so kindly fuck over to our location as quickly as possible.”

  As soon as he delivered his message, the gargoyles increased in speed.

  “Negative, worker. Landing zone is too small. Await extraction at the town square.”

  “You fucker, you gave us the map-”

  The radio clicked off.

  “What a load of bullshit.” Andrius said, to no one in particular.

  “Does that mean we have to go back to the fountain?” Will said, stress visible on his face.

  Andrius closed his eyes and sighed.”Yep. And through every fucking gargoyle we angered on the way.”

  Will mouthed an inaudible “Oh”.

  Andrius hefted his cane. “Well, we best get walking back, kid.”

  “You do not have to tell me twice. Do you want me to take the pack for you?”

  “I’m not that old, mate. I’ll manage.”

  They started jogging back the way they came. Through the park, past the pond, up the main street. The gargoyles that had been relatively still a few minutes before were now approaching them from all around with alarming speed. Andrius could finally hear the helicopter over the noises of the damned -as too, he suspected, could the masses.

  As the distance between man and gargoyle grew, Andrius came to a stop in a junction between the entry into the plaza, two-story buildings on both sides.

  “What are you doing?” Will asked, exasperated.

  “Listen.”

  The incessant wailing around them had stopped. Andrius could see the oak and the fountain right down the street, but something covered the ground in front of them. An oil spill. Only, the oil spill writhed.

  In all his weeks in the Corps, Andrius had never seen anything like this. “Where… Where did they all come from?” he muttered under his breath.It was a large, cohesive pool of gargoyles, hundreds of heads coalescing from the liquid.

  “How do we get through that, Andri?”

  “No idea.” He looked behind. The individual gargoyles were gaining on them. “Never seen this before.”

  Will looked around, panic brewing like a teapot. “There!” he exclaimed, a bit too loudly. He pointed at a hole in the building to the right of the blockade. Andrius hadn’t noticed it when they were first passing through. “We can go through there!” Will continued, eagerly.

  “Easy there, Will. Stay calm.” Andrius considered. It would be too dark to see in there, but they had no other way to go. He didn’t want to risk a flashlight either. He shuddered to think of the consequences.

  “D’ya have that oil lamp with you, mate?” Andrius asked.

  Will seemed surprised at how calm the veteran was. The youth started shuffling through his pack, nervous hands moving quicker than they should. After much digging, he pulled out a little caged lamp. Andrius snatched it and headed towards the hole, the masses barely a meter away from them.

  He turned the lamp on, nearly blinding himself with the change in luminosity. Will stayed close behind.

  “For once I’m glad these Europeans built small.” Andrius quipped as they entered the room. It was a narrow, overgrown bedroom. A pool of rainwater relaxed in the corner, topped with bits of floating turquoise wallpaper. The pair headed through a door at the other end of the room.

  They were met with a skeleton clad in a pink jumpsuit, propped up against the tiled wall of a bathroom, next to a window overlooking the square. A broken syphon tank lay next to it, the sharp end of the candy-cane jammed through the roof of the skeleton’s mouth. The faded pink fabric was flecked with oily specks of black residue mixed with old, dried blood.

  The unicorn insignia on its arm was still intact. One of the lucky ones.

  Andrius swept the lantern through the room, illuminating everything but the pool of darkness over another pink-suited comrade slumped uncomfortably in the shower.

  The pool quickly noticed and moved towards them, only half a meter away. Andrius tossed the lamp at it - which did nothing - and dragged Will through the broken window.

  Will stumbled out of the opening, tripping over the police officer from earlier. He was barely lucid, only able to blink and groan at the sudden disturbance.

  Curiously, his black mass had disappeared. Andrius hopped out of the window and gave Will a pat on the back.

  “Let’s not end up like those two, alright?”

  Will nodded in befuddled agreement.

  They headed towards the fountain. The massive oil spill, now on their left, followed suit. Individual gargoyles separated from it like drops of oil in water, flowing towards them.

  More and more shadowy pools raced forward, egged on by the noise of the approaching helicopter. We’ve only got half a minute until they’re all over us, Andrius thought.

  Grass and pebbles were thrown up around them as the helicopter approached overhead. As the helicopter went in to land next to the fountain, Will tried to speak above the noise of the rotors. Andrius shook his head, unable to hear, and walked towards the helicopter. Will jogged up beside him, shouting in his ear.

  “That was too close! Have you ever seen them do that?” Will shouted.

  “Never!” Andrius replied. “We’ll talk about it later ”

  “Alright. Can I hand in the tank though?”

  “Sure.” Andrius didn’t really understand why, but the kid needed the experience.

  He stopped to take off his backpack, nearly toppling in the wind from the helicopter, now landed on the ground. The strap of the backpack nearly caught on the hilt of the knife in his belt, nad momentum knocked him to the ground.

  Will helped Andrius up, grabbed the tank and ran for the helicopter. They were just a few meters away now, fighting the wind generated by the machine’s blades.

  As he ran, something cold and viscous enveloped Andrius’ right calf.

  Fear washed over him as he pulled his leg free and stumbled to the ground. He managed to turn around and get a look at the darkness behind him, sliding forward with unknowable intent.

  Well, Andrius knew.. He rushed to his feet, quickly enough to see the helicopter beginning to take off, with his screaming apprentice on board.. Andrius ran anyway.

  He couldn’t be left behind, not now. Sprinting, he stepped into a dark pool and slipped onto his back. Three more globs of darkness were going towards him, one already on his leg. As he saw the head form, fangs gleaming in the moonlight, he knew what he had to do.

  The mouth opened, and his hand shot down to the knife on his hip.

  The mouth went down to his leg.

  He wrenched the knife from its sheath.

  The mouth bit down. He prepared himself as the teeth dug into his calf.

  He jammed the knife into his throat.

  A loud snap. The shock of it forced open his eyes, and he looked at the knife in his hand. The blade had bent and shattered.

  Like an animal in a trap, his left hand instinctively went to his throat to staunch the bleeding, but there was none. Only smooth, unbroken skin. His entire body suddenly went limp, but he could see the dark mass slowly covering his body. He could hear nothing but wailing around him, unable to pick out the voices. It could have been any of the victims nearby. It could have been him.

  But no, for once, it was Will. Andrius tried to scream back, fighting for control of his mouth. His lips wouldn’t part. No words would come out. His eyes widened in horror as he drowned under a tidal wave of realisation about what his infinite future would become. Another part of the great, endless choir.