It was a cloudy afternoon, which was typical for New York. Clyde Lambert was heading back from school. This new school was going to take some getting used to, as he hardly knew who anyone there was, not to mention, being a teen who looked about a decade younger, he did not really fit in anywhere in the first place. Yet, admittedly, that place had been easier on him so far. It was not as bad dealing with people who thought he was a little kid as it was dealing with people who knew otherwise but still proceeded to treat him like a child because they found his whole situation downright hilarious.

His route back home took lead him right past a park with a small playground. Real kids were having fun chasing each other around and climbing up every tree or piece of playground equipment they could find. It had been years since Clyde had found those sorts of activities fun.

Suddenly, a boy of about ten years pushed by him, knocking him over.

“Oof!” Clyde grunted as he feel backwards on the sidewalk. Luckily for him, it was not a hard fall, and he was just fine. However, that kid's carelessness irked him. That kid was not watching where he was going. He did not even stop.

“Hey, watch it!” Clyde shouted at him as he sat up, but the kid was already out of earshot. The offender bolted into the street and would have gotten hit, had the cars not come to a screeching halt. Honks and shouts from the confused drivers sounded in the background.

Slowly, Clyde got back on his feet. Quickly, he realized that something was wrong. That boy was not the only person running. Parents, children, and passersby alike were fleeing the park at full speed and in scattered directions. A few of were even screaming. Someone or something in the park seemed to be scaring them. What was going on? Clyde had to take a closer look.

A playground is supposed to be a place where kids go to have some fun, where they're allowed to be themselves, touch everything, meet new friends and make a mess of themselves. Running around is expected, screaming about is heard all the time...

But not like this.

Miles wasn't even staying in the playground per se, he was just passing through, his dogs not too far behind. He tried to keep a quick pace before the kids started with their usual "mommy, look!", which sometimes ended with other children clutching at their parents legs and some flat out bawling their eyes out. This time however, the source of the ruckus had nothing to do with Miles' dogs since some of the kids and their parents were running towards where he was, not away from him.

They ran past him, some even making it into the street where screeching tires added to the noise and Miles couldn't tell what was going on. He stopped and focused his eyes trying to find the source of the problem, which seemed to be originating somewhere inside the playground.

He saw shadows. Shadow men made flesh and blood. Shadow people actually, since there were women and children as well. Their skins were shiny black, their hands reaching and grasping anyone near them, old or young and those they reached suddenly lost their color and became one of them as the black from their skins spread to their victims in infectious fashion, their willpower stolen, their old selves replaced by something else and their eyes shining a bright, blood red.

Something familiar, maybe?

He couldn't feel them or sense them. They were not his creation, not under his control, not his slaves and a cold shiver ran all the way down his spine as this nightmare made real happened right in front of his eyes, plucked from his deepest fears. Miles first reaction was the same everyone was having.

Run like hell.

He didn't know what was going on or why, but he knew he needed to keep his distance from them and then try to figure things out. Both of his dogs were at his side and still obedient to him as he ran, but there were people in the way, some still confused not knowing what to do and others just standing still. Couldn't they see? One kid in particular was standing around trying to see what was going on and the teenager started screaming at him.

"RUN! RUN! They're going to get you! They'll turn you into one of them!" he yelled as he quickly approached the child. The boy was around six or seven and quite frankly, he didn't seem that heavy, so Miles ducked his head, wrapped his arms around the kid's waist, pressed the boy's belly against his right shoulder and hoisted him up, carrying the child like a sack of potatoes. The kid's legs and head bobbed up and down and he DID slow down Miles sprint a tad but he was not going to have this kid turning into someone else's thrall in his conscience.

Clyde soon figured out why everyone was so scared. Spiders. Hundreds of them were skittering out from the playground. Most were normal size, but there were several big ones, too. The largest of them was almost the size of a car! With their eight wet, beady eyes, hairy, spindly legs and gigantic, snapping mandibles, they were a terror to behold. It did not help that Clyde was terrified of spiders.

Somebody was screaming at everyone to run or else be turned into one of them (which, if he had thought about it, made no sense), but he just stood there, paralyzed with fear. He opened his mouth as if he was going to scream, but no sound came out. Those fearsome creatures were crawling everywhere, covering the playground with their nasty webs. At the moment, they were too far away to attack, but were they going to kill anything that got close?

Suddenly, he felt himself being hoisted up. His backpack must not have been closed properly, because the sudden motion spilled its contents. However, Clyde now had more serious concerns than his books and the giant spiders.

A fellow high-school aged guy had just PICKED HIM UP! There were many things one could do to annoy or humiliate a teenager like him, but getting carried was definitely near the top of the list. After all, no high school boy would like one of his peers carrying him around. Not to mention, being held that way was a huge infringement upon his personal space. WAY TO CLOSE! Of course, that high-schooler probably had no clue, but still! Clyde tried to climb out, but his feet kept on slipping down the teen's front. To heck with the spiders. His dignity was on the line!

“I can run myself, you know,” he grumbled discontentedly, making one final attempt to push himself over the guy's shoulder to break free. Maybe it was not the best idea in that situation, but at that moment, Clyde was not thinking about it.

"Yeah, you can run yourself over!" Miles snapped back as he tried to get a better hold on the kid. What was his problem? He was squirming so much he'd likely get free! Miles' left arm was holding him behind one knee, almost choking his own self and his right hand was barely hanging on to one of the kid's ankles, whose arms were poking him in the back and pushing away from Miles. He couldn't run like this, they'd likely both fall down if the kid kept it up.

The teenager suddenly had an idea. He slid the kid to his side a little and in the space between the kid's hanging, pushing body and his own, he mentally commanded Astor to slip through.

"Hold on to the doggie!" he said, as he let go of the kid's legs, hoping he'd catch hold of the collarless dog somehow instead of letting himself drop down on the floor. Astor wasn't big enough for Miles to ride, but he was strong enough to carry a child at least, he just hoped the dog's muscular frame and red eyes didn't creep the boy out too much.

Miles turned his head back to catch a glance before going full sprint again. Were the thralls gaining or even chasing after them? Were they lagging behind too much? It was hard to tell, with people screaming and running around, shouting all sorts of things, from "snakes!" to "clowns!" and there was even a man flailing his arms above his head, yelling and pleading to "get the bats off him".

That was odd. There were no snakes, or clowns or bats that he could see, but he caught a glimpse of the thralls' red eyes behind him and that was enough to get him running again.

Lennox could hear the screams and cries from down the block. ’What the hell?’ he thought to himself, feet slowly stepping in the direction of the sound.*The wonderful sounds of children screaming and mass panic I believe.* He stared in the direct a few seconds longer before he found himself running toward the sounds.

*Where are going boy? Those children are none of our concern.*the voice echoed in his mind.*It would serve you well to relinquish those feelings, care about others will only get you killed…* It spoke again after receiving no answer.

To focus on running to reply Lennox continued to sprint down the block, not even thinking about how he could help or even what he was running into.

*This isn’t like you boy, your far from the hero type or did you forget that you kill for blood. Helping those people won’t make amends for anything…If their already when we get there can we at least feed of the mortally wounded, if makes you feel better we can call it an act of mercy…*

“Just shut up…” Lennox retorted as he turned down another block getting closer to the screams.

Despite the struggling and protests, that highschooler still had a hold of him. Instead of breaking free, Clyde had only managed to get himself into a position where he was practically hanging upside-down. That was just great. Judging by what that guy said, he seemed to think he was incapable of running himself. Brilliant. Apparently, he looked as helpless as a damsel in distress.

>>“Hold on to the doggie!”

The guy moved him to the side a bit, and finally, he let go of him, allowing him to fall. Clyde landed on something rather hard. It was a large, black dog. Not far off was a smaller dog of similar appearance. He must have been too busy struggling to get free, because he failed to notice the two black dogs trailing alongside the teen. Getting carried around by a guy was humiliating, but being expected to ride a dog wasn't much better.

Immediately, Clyde noticed that something was off. The larger one didn't yelp or even give way a little when he landed on him. Looking over at the smaller one, he noticed the strange eyes as well. They were red – and glowing! Their eyes alone were enough to send shivers down one's spine, but also... the one he was on didn't seem to be breathing. With those traits added to dark fur and a strong build, those dogs were practically hellhounds!

Certainly, there was no way he was going ride a dog, normal or not! Quickly, Clyde slid off of the creepy dog and continued running in the same direction.

Clyde took a quick glance out of the corner of his eye and - OH $#!^! One of the larger spiders, about the size of a cat, was coming towards them from the side, pinchers snapping in anticipation of a meal. The nightmarish creature was going after them! “L-look out!” he shouted to the highschooler, trying to alert him to the monster.

The kid decided to get off Astor's back and use his teeny weenie legs instead. Luckily, he wasn't exactly slow but quite agile for his age in fact. They were making some progress when the kid suddenly yelled a warning over a vicious and horrible mass of thin air!

Miles got startled and almost fell as half his body stopped suddenly while the rest kept running. What was that for!? What did he see? Miles wasn't sure if it was something that had scurried away before he looked or if the kid was just scared of shadows. The REAL threat was behind them though, the thralls were coming for them, but the kid was still scared at... something?

"There's nothing there!" he yelled in frustration. "Just keep running!"

Miles raised his eyes to see where they were running or where they could hide. There were thralls ahead of them now. Several yards away, turning everyone they touched. The teenager froze.

"STOP! We can't go that way! They're right ahead!" he warned, looking at his sides for a way out. His dogs flanked him in a defensive formation.

"Stay close to the dogs kid, they'll protect us" he said, as he saw people far ahead wondering what was all the screaming about. They would soon be turned by the thralls if they didn't run away, so he yelled as loud as he could to warn them.

"STAY AWAY!"

There a slight pressure on his head as he grew close and closer to the park. The madness had already spilled into streets as people fled from the park, climbing over cars some even attacking invisible enemies. But there was something else, like static flashes or a haze of darkness. The closer Lennox got to the park the more these flashes occurred.
“Are those ghosts he asked no one in general, and quite surprised at the reply he did receive.

*Illusions, these people are suffering from their worst fears come to life.*The voiced hissed in his mind, that tongue slipping from the mouth in his hand and back as the voice spoke again. *It seems as though we are unaffected by this…*
Lennox didn’t even notice, he looked around at the panicking people around him, the fact he wasn’t freaking out only gave him more confidence in going forward.

“STAY AWAY!” Another voice yelled off in the distance, a teenager and what looked to be his little brother standing off in the distance, frozen in place by their fear of two devil dogs. Yet these illusions weren’t fading in and out they seemed solid.

“I’m coming to save you don’t worry they aren’t real!” Lennox began chargin full speed towards the biggest dog. He ignored the other civilians pushing his way through the crowds.

Nothing there? There was a giant spider going after them! “Ah you crazy! They're aftah us!” he shouted at the highschooler, though those words likely fell on deaf ears.

Suddenly, the teen stopped and shouted that the monsters were right ahead. There was nothing in front of him! The spiders were coming after them! Clyde watched as the two hellhounds were about ready to defend against against a non-existent enemy. This guy was telling him to stay near the dogs. No doubt about it; the red-eyed dogs were definitely his. Why in the world did a teenager have a pair of hellhounds as attack dogs?

That thought aside, Clyde looked down to see the horror of a lifetime. The cat-sized spider from earlier was climbing up the guy's leg! It was going to bite him or something! How did he not notice that?! Searching the ground, he found just what he needed: a thick, two-and-a-half-foot long stick. That should do the trick. “Seriously. Don't move!” he said firmly, but shaking. This was going to be dangerous, and potentially very messy. He swung the stick like a bat, attempting to hit the spider.

As he swung the stick, he saw some tall teenager running towards them. He was shouting something, but with all of the panicked people, Clyde couldn't understand what he was saying, though, for some odd reason, he didn't seem to be scared.

Things were getting weirder and weirder. While the thralls ahead were turning people, there were some passersby farther away who just... didn't care. They looked back at him like he had lost his mind and weren't running away. New Yorkers had a bit of a reputation but this was a tad too much. One in particular was actually coming towards them, sprinting in a dash to reach them. What part of 'stay away' didn't he get?

He was yelling about coming to save them and telling them 'they aren't real'. Miles had no clue what he meant, since everything looked pretty real to him and he couldn't imagine the guy surviving the touch the thralls were dispensing, so the chances of him saving anyone were pretty nill. The kid next to him told Miles not to move, but they HAD to move if they wanted to get away, so he turned in order to change direction and...

"AAACK!"

Now that was a mistake.

Miles felt a sharp pain in his knee. It wasn't bad enough to ruin his dreams of being an adventurer in Skyrim, but strong enough to force him to yell and stumble. It was a mistake, because Miles had been attacked and that specific situation triggered specific orders in his canines. They played back in his head, like he had given them to his dogs yesterday.

Whenever I'm in Xavier's mansion or in Sanctuary, you will not bark, growl or attack anyone, unless I command you to do so. Whenever I'm walking on the streets, you will stay alert and on your guard, but you will not bark, growl or attack anyone... unless you're attacked. And if I'm ever attacked...

... defend me at all costs.

Truth be told, he never expected anyone to attack him, the dogs were scary enough to keep most people at bay and even if the deed had been done by a child, he hadn't come up with a specific clause that excluded children from a righteous mauling. The eyes of both dogs flared a much brighter red the second the stick hit his knee and their response was immediate. Tinaker didn't even bother baring his teeth before opening his maw and heading straight for the offending stick, while Astor, the bigger dog and more protective of the two...

He was going for the kid.

He continued to charge full sprint toward the dog, the smaller one already turning to the kid with the stick as the larger one immediately focused on Lennox, those red eyes flaring up as ebony ears pinned back before the huge beast started towards Lennox.

*You’re going to get us killed if don’t cease these reckless heroics boy!*

‘Maybe that’s the point…’ Lennox replied in his head as the distance between him and the dog grew shorter. Lennox leapt into the air, stretching out in an attempt to tackle the oncoming hound, but the dog was smarter than Lennox excepted and a lot stronger too, countering with a tackle of his own pinning Lennox beneath his massive size.

“AWwwRRR! GRR!” The demon dog growled his jaws snapping mere inches from his face. “Oh S**t!” Lennox exclaimed, pinning his left forearm against the neck of the beast.

*Foolish child, bite him and kill the beast !* The voice blared so loud in Lennox’s head he gave him a mind headache, he could feel his arm moving upwards to the dogs neck that tongue search for a pulse. There was none” Now what!?” Lennox yelled before his fore arm slipped giving the dog a clear shot at his throat.

Rolling to his left his right arm moving to cover his face and neck powerful jaws ripping into his bicep. As the pain raced through his body Lennox face grimaced, his legs kicked out the hind legs of the dog allowing its body to fall on top of him. Sitting up he bite the dog back on its exposed belly pulling a small piece of flesh from it. The taste was horrible, like reanimated dead flesh but flesh was still flesh and as much as he wanted hurl the rotted meat back up he knew he couldn’t. He reached into his mouth with his left hand grabbing the sample from his mouth and pushing it into the palm of his right hand, a difficult task since the dog was now trying to rip his right arm off, the bite to his belly only motivating his efforts. A few seconds later ceased his efforts and limped off slightly the damage being returned in full.

*Kill this worthless beast child and let us heal our arm.*

It was a swing... and a miss. Instead of smashing the arachnid, he managed to hit the hellhound guy square in the knee. Oh well. The hit wasn't THAT hard. He could consider it payback for picking him up earlier.

Unfortunately, just when Clyde was beginning to believe the owner had those dogs well trained or something, all of a sudden, those very dogs were viciously attacking him and the other teen. It seemed the larger dog was preoccupied with the other guy, but the latter was going straight for him.

Clyde kept the stick out in front of him, ready to prod the smaller hellhound back with it. Even though it may have been the smaller of the two, it was still pretty big compared to him. For a second, the demon dog growled and nipped at the stick, then it popped up, chomping on his right-hand wrist.

“AGGHHH!” he screamed, dropping the stick. It was not deep wound, but it still hurt. This dog, whatever it was, was dangerous.

True, he could shift and improve his chances against the hellhound, but – oh, what the heck? Those dogs were attacking. Besides, most of the other people were likely too panicked to even take notice.

Within a couple of seconds, a stretching pain spread through his body as he turned into a teenager about the same height as the dog teen. Seams on the sides of his shorts and shirt burst as he grew. At least the waistband in his shorts was elastic enough so that he wasn't too exposed.

As soon as the dog opened its jaws just a little to try to get a better hold of him in his shifted form, he took the opportunity to yank his arm free of its grasp. Quickly, he rolled to the side, retrieved the stick, and again held it out in between him and the hellhound.

Glancing over, he could see that the other dog had done some damage to the third teen. That guy had a pair of dangerous creatures that just attacked. The irresponsibility of it all made Clyde furious. “WHY DO YOU HAVE THOSE THINGS?!” he shouted at the owner, still guarding himself against the dog with the stick.

All over, he was aching from the struggle. The now-too-tiny shoes were killing his feet, and as for the bite, he really hoped that these red-eyed dogs had had their shots.

He would have yelled at them and ordered them to stop before anything serious had happened. He would have commanded his dogs to stand down and submit to his will, but sometimes, when you see the impossible, your brain just freezes and you're too befuddled to react quickly enough.

The guy running towards them, heading for his dog and yelling at them while pushing pedestrians away... he didn't care that he was getting closer to the thralls. One of the vile creatures just turned around, focusing it's bright red eyes on the newcomer, stretching his hand, reaching him...

... And the guy just phased through!

He wasn't turned! He was still flesh and blood and... alive! He was tackling his dog now, fighting him mano a mano and Astor retaliated, following his commands of self defense. What had just happened? What...? He couldn't process what he had just seen. He was too confused and couldn't believe his eyes. The thralls, they... but...

>> “WHY DO YOU HAVE THOSE THINGS?!”

It was this scream that snapped him back to reality. The thralls were coming for them but when he turned and saw some teen in the kid's clothes keeping Tinaker away with a stick, he knew he had become part of the problem instead of part of the solution.

"STOP!" he yelled and the reaction was instantaneous. Tinaker had tasted blood and kept trying to find a way around the teenager's weapon but he recoiled the second he heard his master's voice. Astor had wrested himself away from the guy who could phase through thralls and for some reason was not charging for round two. He also obeyed Miles' command and both dogs flanked his master protectively.

The young necromancer had his hands over his head, realizing what had happened. It had only been a few seconds of indecision, a momentary lapse of confusion and two people could have been killed for it, except...

...these weren't ordinary people, were they?

A part of Miles felt tempted to ask the teenager with the ripped clothes if he had seen a small kid about wee high who looked just like his kid brother, but the teen was royally pissed and the possibility of a swift kick in the nuts was quite high. His hand was bloodied and it was Miles' fault. This was no time for jokes.

The other guy was also hurt, specially his arm, since Astor was no pushover. He was an african-american barely a couple of years older than Miles, but how had he done the phasing thing? Did he have the key to defeat the thralls?

"I'm sorry!" he said to the both of them. "I'm seriously sorry! I didn't mean... my dogs, they're over-protective and they'll attack anyone who attacks me. And we're gonna need them to fight the thralls!" he said, pointing at the swarm of creatures that were now starting to surround their sides as well as their front and rear.

"You can help us!" He demanded at the newcomer. "Show us how you did that! Show us how you can walk through them as if they weren't there!"

Lennox fought the compelling urge to rip the dogs in shreds, his mind fogged by the heat of battle and the murderous voice within.

*Do it child, while the beast is weak stomp him into a pulp for us to devour, he isn't human after all...*
The voice was so convincing, after all the dog was the one responsible for his wounds anyway and a dog this size would keep him full for at least another two days.

“STOP!” A voice cried out filling the air, shaking Lennox from his mental trance. The dog that just mauled and nearly ripped off his arm continued to limp towards the two teens, Lennox followed suite not knowing what else to do. His arm was throbbing well part of it was, the rest was growing numb from the loss of blood. He reached the group as one of them was finishing a statement.

“…the thralls…"You can help us!" His finger falling right on Lennox’s direction. “Show us how you did that! Show us how you can walk through them as if they weren't there!" It was clear this guy was suffering from hysteria due to the illusions.

“What the hell are you talking about? Better yet what the hell is with you sicking your hell mutt on me ? I'm the guy trying to help you..."

Finally, the dogs' owner was yelling at them to stop, and oddly enough, they did. He seemed apologetic about the whole situation, but seriously, what was he thinking when he brought them to a park? The action seemed completely idiotic. That guy even went as far as to claiming that they only attacked because he was attacked. Was he referring to being hit in the leg? That wasn't an attack! “That spider jumped off before I could squash it,” Clyde grumbled, leering at him. The whole time, he kept the stick at the ready, in case those dogs decided to attack again.

The guy who had fought the bigger dog certainly was injured. It looked like it had tried to bite his arm off. Clyde had to admit to himself that that guy probably saved his life because he fought the larger demon dog. If both of those hellhounds had gone after him, he likely wouldn't have been able to fend them off.

Next thing he knew, the hellhounds' owner was ranting to the other guy about thralls and walking through them. Thralls? The teen walking through them? What was he talking about? The teen who fought the big dog seemed just as confused. He was asking what he was talking about and why the dogs attacked. Clyde wanted to know those answers as well. “Seriously,” he questioned, “what were you think-”

Something poking his leg distracted him. Clyde looked down, and – the spider from earlier was trying to climb up his leg this time!

“AGGHHH!!!” he screamed with his little kid voice, jumping back several feet. “Killitkillitkillit!”

The spider touched him. The spider scared him. The spider was a spider. Therefore, the spider had to die. Whap, whap, WHAP! The stick hit the ground several times before hitting its target. When it finally did, it was pretty messy (best leave it at that).