The placards shone, rain-wet and glowing harsh white under the floodlights.
The usual ‘DWARVES OUT’ of course, but you also saw a few of the more popular jokes: ‘You Must Be THIS Tall To Live Here’ and ‘WHACK THE MOLES!’
On any other night I’d have found them funny.
On any other night I wouldn’t have been soaked to my taint in rain,
standing in a fucking thin line of cops holding back the people I swore to serve and protect gibbering for the blood of every midget bastard in Tinytown. On *this* night, I’m fucking terrified.
I look at the Public milling behind the barricades, all angry, howling mouths. I try to count how many blades I see near me. Fear rises with every one I count.
More than enough to take us down, and kill the dwarves hiding in their ghetto behind us.
I look behind me, at the armed squad standing at ease until the mob clears the barricades. Twelve shotguns against a thousand armed taxpayers. No contest at all. They’ll have our guts for garters.
We’re all going to die here.
The crowd is moving forward now, some unseen hand is pushing them towards the kill.
Lieutenant Hook brings out the megaphone: “CITIZENS, DISPERSE IN AN ORDERLY –” is all he manages before a brick gets him.
The Commander barks an order for the shield squad to step forward, fending off the hail of bricks and stones as best as they can. A little something breaks on my helmet.
A few people are climbing on top of the barriers, and the barbed wire is only making them angrier.
I look at the Commander: he nods. Time for him to play his only card. Someone shoves me forward, and I hear panicked screaming in my ear, but already the world is turning murky.
Like I’m walking underwater. My heart’s beating wildly as I step past the shield wall and stand, wet and alone in front of my murderers.
Twelve feet away. Ten feet. Steel glinting. Mouths open, teeth and fangs gleaming. Screaming as they come for me.
I seize the white fear and spool it out, more and more and more, until it is all I am. And the fear tells me this: I am going to die here.
The crowd falters and stumbles inches away from me, beginning to back away. They scream and howl, tears streaming down their faces.
I watch them as if through glass, telling them, each and every one, what I know, what I feel to my very core, making my fear their fear, my thought their thought.
One thought in every head: *I am going to die here.*
The shotguns fire a few rounds – into the air, but it’s more than enough.
The mob disperses with screams and howls, trampling on and injuring itself, a wave of cowardly flesh turned aside by a single thought, and the fear of a woman ready to piss herself.