Page 35 of Any More Questions for the Corpse?

“Do you think he transfigured into something smaller and kept going?” Mal said, eyeing the pipe unconvinced.

“Guys,” Hala said from the back. “I think he doubled back.”

“Why do you think that?” Yu said, turning around.

A man stood behind them, drenched in sewer water and pissed as all hell. Lamp-man had fixed his face. Mal couldn’t tell if he was huge, or if he just filled the small space they were stuck in. The man was tan and bold; he held the money in one hand and a stiletto in the other. On further examination, he wasn’t holding the stiletto; his hand was the stiletto.

“You,” the lamp-man said, pointing to Mal, “you’re gonna tell me what the fuck you did to Erik.”

Mal pushed his way forward, putting himself between the lamp-man and the group.

“What do you mean?” Mal said, trying to remain as calm as possible.

“I killed him,” the lamp-man said, gesturing to himself with his stiletto hand. “But you, you brought ’im back. I saw, I saw those fuckin’ eyes of yours. What did you do?”

Mal thought he sensed fear in the lamp-man’s voice. No one else had reacted to his powers like this—well, maybe they had, but they hadn’t shown it.

“Take it easy on him, Mal,” Hala said. Mal had no clue what the fuck she meant. Was she talking to the right person? “The man is terrified.”

The lamp-man took a step back, his stiletto hand trembling. He really was terrified. He started mumbling something under his breath that sounded like a prayer. Mal could work with this. He hated his powers, but he wouldn’t actually have to use them here, just threaten to use them. Hala was probably pushing fear into the poor man’s mind as well. The lamp-man didn’t know what Mal could do, and neither did Mal if he was honest with himself, but this could work.

“Why did you kill Erik?” Mal said. His voice cracked as his spoke. Intimidation wasn’t his strong suit.

“I’m not telling you shit, freak,” the lamp-man said, trying to edge forward. Mal didn’t need to search for his powers this time, he just needed to scare this guy. That didn’t require anything evil or any dead person manipulation. Just a little transformation. He embraced his powers, pushing himself just a bit more than usual. He felt his eyes change; the white circles shone out, illuminating the lamp-man. He felt the shadows grab hold of his body—they usually just clawed and lapped at his edges, but now they swarmed about him. Hollow, black shadows emerged from his silhouette, scratching and clawing along the floor. Monsters and creatures of shadow; Mal’s monsters. Mal looked down and found that he was floating off the floor. The creatures had wrapped themselves around Mal’s forearms, covering them in darkness. His hands were now bone, with shadow as flesh. The lamp-man froze.

“Why did you kill Erik?” Mal said, with a voice that was not his own. His new voice was dark and tremendous. Mal felt the thrill of the man’s horror.

“I … I … just do what I’m told,” the lamp-man said. “Erik sold us info, shit that guild of his knew, we paid him, that’s …”

“SO WHY KILL HIM?” Mal said.

“Ahh, we found out he was connected, a cop or something. My boss figured the best cop is a dead one. So he sent me …” Mal heard Des grunt behind him. “When I got out the bag he’d already killed our men. He must have been tying up loose ends too.”

“So you don’t know anything about the serial murderers?” Mal said, reining in his powers.

“What? No!” the lamp-man said, confused.

Fuck, Mal thought. This was a dead end, literally and figuratively. The man knew nothing, and Erik sounded like he was just selling secrets. This had been a complete bust and now he had to get everyone out of here before the assassin realized Mal’s powers were useless. How the hell was he going to do that?

“What’s going on here then?” a posh voice said behind them. Mal turned but saw nothing, just murky water and the brick wall. He thought he might be going mad, but several others had turned with him.

Ribbit.

A frog emerged from the tiny pipe in the dead-end wall. It hopped forward through the group and positioned itself between Mal and the lamp-man. Mal looked down at the frog, who in return looked up at him.

“What’s going on then? Are there flies on your tongue or something?” the frog said. It took Mal several seconds to comprehend what was happening. Maybe he really was going mad; this certainly seemed like a symptom of madness. A poster flashed through his mind: “BE KIND TO TALKING FROGS.”

“Well, Mister … urrr … Frog, this man just murdered someone and we chased him down here to try and apprehend him, but now he’s cornered us.” Mal felt ridiculous. He looked back to the others, who were staring at him and the frog with incredulity.

“Mr. Frog, I like that,” Mr. Frog said. “Is that correct, you lot?” Mal looked back to the others and mouthed, “BE KIND.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Hala said.

“We didn’t mean to intrude,” Yu said.

Des didn’t speak. Mal shot her a face that said, Please just be nice to the frog. She took a long sigh, then said:

“Sorry for being in your sewer part.” She raised her arms afterward as if to say, Is that good enough?