Chapter 13. Bad Dream?

  Abram would fight sleep as long as he could, he hated going to sleep. Because once those odd swirling eyes opened, he knew what the new day would bring. A cold sweat that doused him with influence and it was an influence that had taken every reign of his control.

  Abram was half standing, when Sid released a hard snore pulling a heavy hand over that thick face. His beady eyes opened showing only glossy blacks with a bile yellow ember deep in the centers.

  “Minyeara’s crusted udders’.” Abram jumped. “Ye seein that buddy?” He gasped, not wanting to look away.

  Arieo did see it, and his bold brown eyes too were locked on that heavy man with a black stare. Arieo however was not as interested as his master was. He would run right between those two trees right there if he needed, circle around that one and come back for his master. He watched Sid in case of quick movement.

  Dense grey fog began to meddle through the forest, creeping betwixt trees, entrapping the small fire. The small orange dancer was still twisting within her ring, while its unsuspecting master lay close by. Trees groaned, speaking to one another, as if the forest was complaining about the soft patter of popping grease.

  Sid’s sights were but a blurred vision, it was enough though. He groggily observed a pair of intimidating yellow eyes. Eyes that hooked the lips of his attention pulling his sights along. Those yellow eyes that creep within a large shadowy mass.

  He could hear something in the short distance like the snarl after that taunting bell. His senses heightened, and the hair began to rise along the back of his neck.

  -Arieo? Sid thought to himself, keeping still, investigating the black mass.

  Pinching the brim of his nose, leaning on an elbow tightening his line of vision. He followed the shadow, whoever it was, was concealed by the dense fog. The sulfuric musk of egg accompanied with the aroma of pan seared hog meat, warmed Sid’s nose. The chittering of grease though is what forced his roll over.

  Rolling over, Sid see a skillet with eggs, triangle chunks of fried meat sizzling, and popping. A metal spoon poking at its contents.

  Tending the pan, was a stranger wearing a long, baggy, dark green robe. Thick gold stitching, and ancient glyphs or symbols of some kind marked the sleeves. Drooping from within the saggy drawn hood was muddied, and greasy dull silver hair, leaving the face a mystery. The stranger sat casually hunched carefully stirring the skillet.

  Abram and Arieo watch with matching pale expression. Eyes locked on Sid as the most horrifying noises tremor from the shallows of that big man’s throat.

  It was something Abram had not been familiar with in a long, long time. He just couldn’t think of where he had heard that primal noise before and how could he when this subject of a nightmare was happening before him. Still, Abrams expression of fear and concern deepened, watching big Sid roar with a black stare.

  Arieo on the other hand was just a snapping twig away from getting the hell out of there. That noise the man produced was absolutely the sort of thing he didn’t like. He stamped nervously envisioning multiple escape scenarios, while another sick sound escaped Sid.

  Watching the stranger, Sid wormed his fingers closer to the sword that lay by his side. The soft swirling scrape of metal paused. The hooded stranger slightly shifted and spoke.

  “Easy stranger…only borrowing the coals”

  The hooded mystery, carefully reach for a flat stone, showing no threat. Then cautiously scooping out half the egg scrambled and clumpy. Flipping the larger piece of hog meat onto the stone, it was slightly burnt with a black sear. The stranger put the steamy meal within arms reach and nodded. He then stood slowly, with an open hand he point to the second bag at Sid’s side.

  Clenching the cold iron that was once wrapped with fine leather Sid gripped his sword. He watched closely while that man took slow steps for the bag. Carefully examining the stranger, his eyes strained, wanting to know who was hiding beneath the hood.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Abram?” Sid asked tiredly.

  “Name’s Grover.” The stranger said.

  “Father’s name was Grover… Grover Tyriell Birch the third.” Sid said trance-like.

  His face then puzzled, he hadn’t a clue as to why he had just told the stranger his father’s name. Still, he nodded to the open hand that ask for the spot, across the bed of coals.

  Staring as the stranger named Grover sat, keeping his hood sagged, adjusting to comfort before eating. Lifting spoon after spoon heaping with egg and strips of meat, small clumpy bits of egg clung to the filthy hair, as the spoon passed in and out. The spoon stopped and the stranger sneered.

  “Oh, I know about you… Sick Sid. The putrid spawn of Grizzly Grover and Mauling Molly”

  Sid’s beady eyes tightened on the dark mass again, as another low growl echoed in the short foggy distance.

  Abram jumped back as that heavy man released another horrid sound. Quickly reaching for Arieo, who wanted to make a dash for the woods.

  “Arieo knock it off, he be sleepin look.” Abram lend a hand in assisting Arieo’s gaze.

  Sid didn’t look to be sleeping to him. His eyes were very much open, and the sounds he was making didn’t say sleepy. If it wasn’t for his master’s clasp, he would be in that field of clover right now, he remembers the way.

  “I think you have me mistaken.” Sid replied trying to get an angle under that hood.

  “I am not one to be tested Sidney.” The stranger hissed, placing the skillet into the coals, then reached into his bag, pulling three more eggs. He begin cracking the yolks into the pan, feeding the shells to the red coals. The stranger sighed

  “Sidney, have you truly forgotten who you are?” The man asked, stirring his skillet.

  Sid though, had his attention in the heavy fog having lost sight of the shadowy mass. Before finally answering.

  “I’m the son of a blacksmith, as was my father, as was his.”

  A heavy sneer rushed through dry nostrils as the stranger laughed at these words. The crowing of birds lost in the fog mocked Sid as well.

  “You’re the vile heir of a shape-shifting cunt, born as the salacious son to rot… what would Sophie think of her cowering husband watching as her innocent boy die in vain…”

  Sid ripped the tip of the sword through the dirt as he quickly came to a stand.

  Smashing a heavy foot against the skillet, it let out a metallic scream as it bounced from the rocks. He clamped a thick hand over the stranger’s shoulder, and drove his sword as deep as it would allow.

  It was too smooth. No bone to catch and grind. Just a clean piercing bite. Sid growled before screaming at the man, and he let the blade take another taste. He would never let anyone speak with an ill tongue about his wife or son ever. Let alone a loon in the woods. He would not be judged by a stranger.

  Sid let out heavy breaths, clutching the man tightly in one hand, trying to dig the sword deeper. Sid’s eyes burned with memories, and the sound of Sophie’s laughter echoed in the trees.

  Then the pitter-patter of drips against metal caught Sid’s eyes. Vibrant red splatter gently mark the blade, some falling to the robe.

  Drip..Drip..Drip.. it became dramatically rapid in a single heartbeat. Drip-drip, drip-drip, drip-drip. Then before a single breath, the hood roared with a crimson waterfall.

  It was horrific, Sid seized but only for a moment before suspicion took over. Taking a handful of cloth, Sid yanked at the robe, throwing the hood back.

  A beast of unknown proportion came ripping from the robe as the hood was yanked away snapping with heavy snarls, and a thundering roar.

  “Pandora’s wrath.” Abram panicked grabbing Arieo’s neck tightly, that little donkey wanted to run for it.

  Sid’s face was changing.

  His damn teeth, they looked like they were attempting to climb over his lips. And what the hell was happening to that fat nose, it was contorting into something else completely. It wasn’t right the way his mouth was stretching, no …stretching wasn’t even close to the word. That mouth it was growing, …no now it was melting, …no wait now its trying to grow again.

  A nasty yellow smoke lifted from Sid’s face as his lips dissolve and grow at a rapid rate. Not only that, but the grass under and around Sid was beginning to wilt, and the tree he was propped against. The tree bark, it was dying leaving behind a blackened ashy blight scar creeping around the trunk. Abram had seen this before, but when?

  Falling to his back against the unforgiving ground, Sid release a hard oomph. He stare as wide as his beady eyes would allow.

  That tyrant animal grew with height and mass. Shredding the robe as it morphed taller and taller.

  A loud and horrid animal with black patchy fur. Beneath that dense dark fur, the skin look to be rotted with cellulitis, gangrene oozing with a mold or infectious growth. He could only stare as that furious animal swipe the remaining robes away. Its paws were something Sid had never seen before. Thick and fat leathery things with long black claws, claws that secrete with a black drip.

  Sid met eyes with the beast, it had a dull yellow stare, before it released a roar that made the night sky scream and pulse. Those black shredded lips rippled with infection while it growl at Sid. Teeth so yellow and intimidating; pieces of flesh fall from its snout with each raising decibel. Revealing a menacing set of bile yellow teeth. Sid looked up into those sickening yellow eyes once more, just before that nasty short snout widened with another roar, falling onto him.

  Sid let out a primal yell manic with terror kicking himself awake. In the deep breaths he take, his eyes cleared and his mouth reshaped. He blinked tiredly dragging a callused hand over a damp face. Wiping the cool beads of sweat that had collected, his eyes strained looking at Abram, who was now wide eyed and clutching his donkey. Owls could be heard somewhere in the distance mocking the three of them.