The Beast Unleashed

Chapter-2

Pultuvur — Thirteen Years Ago

It was almost midnight and the streets were empty. Moonlight spilled against the plastered walls, catching the gleam of a window pane. Thomas crouched beneath it, a jagged stone in his hand and a cocky grin on his face.

“Rich bastard’s probably snoring with a turkey leg in his mouth,” he snickered to himself. “I’m sure he won’t mind if a few trinkets go missing.” He raised the stone.

“Don’t.”

The voice was low, almost a whisper, but sharp enough to halt his hand mid-swing. Thomas turned to see a boy, thin as he was, standing in an alley. Dark hair hung across his forehead, and his clothes sagged as though they’d previously belonged to someone else. Malakai. Everyone in town knew the outcast, though few bothered to speak to him.

Thomas smirked. “Well, if it isn’t “ghost boy”, the cursed one.”

“I’m not cursed,” Malakai retorted.

“Whatever. You better not jinx this for me.”

Malakai’s eyes flicked to the window, then to the door beside it. “If you break it, the guards will hear. Locks are easier, they don’t make noise.”

Thomas chuckled. “And what do you know about locks?”

Without answering, Malakai walked up to the door and knelt. From his sleeve he drew a bent wire and a rusted pin, both worn smooth from use. Thomas watched him with curiosity. After two twists and a gentle push, the lock gave a soft click.

Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. He grinned wider, lowering the stone. “Looks like ghost boy’s got some tricks.”

The door creaked open, the inside almost as quiet as the outside. Malakai lingered in the doorway. “We shouldn’t—”

“Relax.” Thomas clapped him on the back, walking past. “Old man’s fat and deaf. By the time he falls out of bed, we’ll be gone.”

They moved through the house, grabbing what they could. When they slipped back into the alley, Thomas laughed out wildly.

“See, easy! You and me, we’ll eat like kings tonight.”

Malakai’s gaze darted around the street, still expecting guards to come chasing after them. “This is dangerous,” he muttered.

“Of course it is.” Thomas slung the sack of loot over his shoulder, grinning. “That’s why it’s fun.”

He looked at Malakai with a glint in his eyes. “Look, you’re good with locks, ghost boy. I’ve seen a lot of things, but nothing like that. Stick with me, and you’ll never go hungry again.”

For the first time, Malakai didn’t look away. No one had ever spoken to him like that.

That night, something unspoken bound them together, two orphans against the world.

***

Present Day

“You know I’ve given up that life,” Malakai said firmly, his voice tired. “I abandoned the life of a thief after I met Talia.”

Thomas leaned back with his arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

“Yeah, and no offence to Talia; but look where that’s gotten you. Besides, she’s gone now.”

Malakai’s jaw tightened. “Yes. But I still have Tessa. And I have to be a good role model for her.”

Thomas’s eyes hardened as he began to run out of patience. “Tessa is dying, Kai. And when she does, her blood will be on your hands. It won’t matter if you were a good role model or not.”

The words cut deeper than any blade. Malakai’s face soured with pain, and without another word he turned away.

“Wait, Kai, I didn’t mean it like that!” Thomas called after him, a hint of regret in his tone. “Just think about it! The offer stands until sunset.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Malakai shot back over his shoulder. He had made a promise to Talia on her deathbed that he would never return to that life. That promise was the last piece of her he still carried, and he would hold onto it, no matter what.

But when he opened the door to his shack, his world crumbled beneath him.

Tessa lay sprawled on the floorboards, her small body unnaturally still. A dark pool of blood seeped from her mouth onto the floor.

“No… no, no, no.” Malakai dropped to his knees so fast the impact shook the floorboards. He gathered her limp frame into his arms, shaking her lightly.

“Tessa! Tessa, stay with me! Please!”

Her chest did not rise.

He sprinted outside to the well, yanking the rope frantically, until the bucket sloshed over. He raced back inside and poured the cold water over her face.

Nothing.

Then Tessa gasped, sputtering as her eyes flew open. Malakai clutched her to his chest, tears streaming down his face. However, his relief was short-lived as her body convulsed with coughing fits that stained her lips with blood. Lifting her frail frame into his arms, he ran down the muddy hill towards the town. The sky split open with rain as though the heavens mocked his desperation.

By the time he reached the physician, his knees buckled. He fell before the counter, holding on to Tessa.

“Please… please, she needs medicine. I’ll do anything. I’ll scrub your floors, haul your firewood, work without coin, just save her,” he said, his voice breaking.

The shopkeeper’s face twisted with disgust. He stepped around the counter, pushing Malakai backward with the toe of his boot.

“Why would I help a cursed wretch like you?” he sneered. “That girl carries your filth in her veins. It’s mercy that she dies now, before she grows into the same abomination. I pray the grave takes you both soon, and spares the rest of us from your cursed bloodline.”

The door slammed, leaving Malakai and his coughing daughter in the street as the rain poured down. He stood there, soaked, clutching her against his chest. His legs trembled, his heart felt hollow, and for the first time since Talia’s death, Malakai felt his resolve shatter. What use was keeping promises, if Tessa would not live to see tomorrow?

Malakai carried Tessa through the storm, every step heavier than the last, making his way to Thomas’ house. Thomas didn’t ask questions when they arrived, just gave her soup, wrapped her in blankets, and set her by the fire.

“Let’s do it. I’m in,” he said to Thomas, his voice resolved.

He wasn’t chasing wealth or comfort, he just needed enough coin to keep Tessa alive; to give her a life where the next meal wasn’t a question, where survival didn’t mean insult.

Thomas poured two chipped cups of ale as he grinned.

“Perfect timing. Tonight some snob noble from the capital is riding in. He’s here on business, which means he’s carrying coin, plenty of it. We’ll slip into his inn when he’s asleep, lift what we can, and vanish before sunrise. You handle the locks or any safes. I’ll handle the rest.”

Malakai’s hand tightened around the cup, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “Nobody’s getting hurt, right?”

Thomas raised his cup in a mock toast, smirking. “I promise you, Kai. Nobody’s getting hurt. It’s a quick job, in and out, like the old days.”

The men spoke while they waited, reminiscing about the past until nighttime arrived. The cold night air gnawed at their skin as Malakai and Thomas crouched in the shadows, watching the road. The silence was broken by the rumble of wheels and the flicker of lantern light. A black carriage, with rims that shimmered gold rolled past.

Thomas let out a low whistle. “Now that… that’s money on wheels.”

The carriage stopped at the inn. A cloaked figure stepped down, their head draped, and their face hidden. Two horsemen also followed, straining to lift a heavy chest.

“That’s our ticket out of poverty, Kai,” Thomas grinned.

Malakai’s lips curved in a smile, though his chest felt tight. Just a little longer, Tessa.

They waited in silence until the figure was shown to a room and the guards left with the carriage. Hours crawled by. Finally, the light in the upstairs window went out.

Thomas nudged him. “Showtime.”

Inside the inn, the hall smelled of ale and

smoke. Malakai knelt at the door as he twisted his tools. One click, then another, and the latch gave way.

“Beautiful,” Thomas whispered, slipping inside. “Keep watch.”

Malakai nodded, staying by the door as his eyes scanned the hall. The inn was quiet. Too quiet. He counted heartbeats, waiting for Thomas to reappear.

Then—

POW!

A gunshot tore through the silence like lightning. Malakai’s heart jumped. His mind screamed out for Thomas as he burst into the room.

What he saw froze him.

A boy lay sprawled on the floor, no older than sixteen. Blood poured from his chest and a pistol lay fallen. His eyes stared glassy at the ceiling, his lips parting in a final breath.

Malakai staggered back. “No… no, no, no…”

He scanned the room for Thomas but Thomas was gone.

The door burst open as the innkeeper rushed in, followed by the two horsemen who were now clad in the blue and gold uniforms of the royal guard.

They fell to their knees beside the boy. “My Prince! My Prince Aiden!”

Malakai’s blood turned to ice. Prince?

One of the guards looked up, his gaze fixated on Malakai. His eyes darted from the pistol to the corpse, then landed on Malakai. Fury began to twist his face.

“You killed the prince.”

“What? No—I… it wasn’t me!” Malakai stammered.

The guard seized him, snapping chains around his wrists with brutal force. “Save it for the palace. You’ll stand trial for the murder of Prince Aiden of Pultuvur.”

Malakai went limp, almost collapsing as his mind raced.

The prince? Here, in this forsaken town? Why? Who fired the shot?

And above all…where the hell was Thomas?