The lantern outside the small, timbermade cabin whose ember orange illumination swung stopped suddenly.
There was no one out there, nothing out there. Nothing could survive - nothing but maybe his lantern.It increased in brightness then reduced and he strained his eyes to see if maybe, there was someone there - no one, not a soul. The lantern knocked itself over with a rattle a few seconds before extinguishing itself, leaving him to his... fears.
He heard the mourning howls of the hoary, pristine metals of swing chairs clanging against each other but there was none around. The last time he saw one was the previous night and it was dripping with fresh, warm blood.
He retreated deeper into the pitch dark, no, black room as he felt the overwhelming presence of creatures he'd never heard of all his life there.
He didn't know how or what to feel. He didn't know what to say as he heard the subdued, spooky snarls that hummed like sizzling lava grow louder.
The thick, loathsome stench of the creature that was walking towards, step by step, crammed the wooden cabin he was in. He impulsively scuttled backwards when one his feet sank into a mantua that had been soaked earlier in the tears of dying babies. The balmy whiskers of one of the "things" in the shed; with him, stroked the bruised part of his lips and its grumbles reiterated ruthlessness and truculence. He knew his time was up, they had come for him and nothing could deliver him. No one would dare to - unless they were on a suicide mission.The erratic rackets of sturdy limbs on caustic claws scraped the aged floorboard briskly and in seconds, a large, hairy creature about one and a half the size of a lion and more than twice its ferociousness dived in on him.
Whilst trying to fight it off reflexively, he fell over into a small drum teemed with limbs, skulls and ribcages of the dead. Its fangs sunk deeply into the left side of his neck; causing great damage to his pharynx, liberating a great deal of blood.
His eyelids grew heavy, everywhere was dark and he felt his spirit leave him as things went hazy. His heart began to beat slower and slower when a bright, orange light - almost blinding, blasted through the room. The lantern came alive and on it he saw a...
Long fingers rested across Gerey Wysalt's sweaty face trying to waken the carmine-haired figure with notable protracted, pointy ears and long arms of different lengths. He literally sprung out of his tousled bed into the welcoming hands of Brione Hancey, his guardian, wide eyed and trying to repress a yell as the nightmare he'd had replayed itself in his head.
“The horrible dream, honey?” Brione asked softly, caressing his bright, red hair as she would do to her cat, Shades.
Gerey panted deeply and his heart beat against his ribcages rapidly, he took a while before he was composed and replied, “yeah - yeah, the same one.”“Do you think you're fit for school today?” Aunt Brione; as Gerey called her, put in, “you can call in sick.” But Gerey knew better than staying in their small, posh home on no. 3, Atholl Esplanade, all day with Aunt Brione, assisting her with chores and serving her two friends - one with an unusually large nose and eyes that never seemed to blink, the other, petite and always whispering, with tea as they talked all evening.
“No, I'm good, Aunt Brione. I'll be ready in - fifteen minutes.”
“Okay then. Breakfast's ready,” Aunt Brione said with a fake smile, concealing her disappointment at wasting a day with him as she stood up slowly causing her pale brown apron to drop with gravity.
“Thanks for your concern,” Gerey Wysalt called after her, causing delight to bloom like flourishing daffodils on a stretching field in her heart as she closed the door to his room behind her.
**
On the other side of the haughty walls that had dozens of massive torch posts set into it with complex patterns etched like the webs of a million spiders - due to antiquity, stood the monumental, cold-blooded, stony edifice of Ingfalls High, Wabrook.
Its name was etched into a blank part of the four storeys tall, main building by gemstones - close to the roofing that carved and weaved into one another like seawaves. "INGFALLS HIGH, WABROOK." sparkled bright green as the sun conversed with it and slowly making his way hastily past the busy bodies of other students on a creamy pavement towards the building was Gerey - with his bag slumped to an awkward angle and head bowed.
Gerey huffed laboriously like a steam strain releasing a lot of fume into the air as he climbed up the dark, naturally made, rocky and precarious steps to the third storey. He chucked the straps of his pale brown, worn out school bag to the ground as he came to an extremely long, rough with lot of colossal arcs hallway and bent over to search for his schedule paper.
“Geometry!?” he muttered to himself woefully imagining the small, oval face of Mrs. Joanne Pyley spitting out equations he knew he'll never understand through her thin, spiteful lips as her tiny eyes hunted, quested and scrutinized all her students for the least concentrated to be punished with a series of difficult questions which ended up with the poor prey being nothing more than an object of mockery.
“I better get going,” Gerey muttered slowly to himself as he turned his neck left and right and realized that he was alone in the hallway - just him, and a few feeble whisps of whirlwind that tossled his red hair all over his white face.
A strap of his brown, obsolete bag hung lazily from his oddly long arm as he dragged it along to class, avoiding a few fissures on the pale gray ground as he moved.
He increased his pace steadily as he walked past dark, minor corridors that branched out of the prime one making them appear like oversized wormholes.Gerey was just a few turns from his classroom when he heard the subdued voice of a male echo out of a uniting aisle, “How dare you look me in the eye as you speak!?” A soft thud came after and Gerey guessed it was a slap. Whimpers emerged out of the mysterious, dark aisle like a wounded puppy's, then, silence.
Gerey wasn't one to put his nose in other people's businesses - that's the only way he'd gotten to the eleventh grade without at least, a broken nose. But this time around, curiosity swept over him like a cloak of doom.
The five fingers on his left hand tapped and tapped softly on the ancient, frigid walls serving as antennas as he walked in the direction of where there was now dead silence.The more noiseless steps Gerey took, the more he tried convincing himself that it was just his imagination playing tricks on him but he couldn't stop moving. There was something driving him, propelling him towards whoever it was that he'd heard and as he got to where he'd heard the sound - helpless due to the thick darkness, he wished he'll find nothing.
“I knew someone heard us!” A rough voice rich in an unknown accent spoke angrily as a bright, bluish light landed on Gerey's face.
Gerey was still trying to get the light off his face when he heard a rugged scramble. A pompous boy about the size of a small bear descended on Gerey and thrusted a heavy, right punch on Gerey who had no idea what was coming for him till the heavy fist caused waves after waves of pain to raid his face.Gerey fell shoulder first to the stony ground.
“You wanna see what we're up to? Huh!? You little Snitch!” the same voice that had spoken the first time said again, sounding grimer, his accent caused a tingle in Gerey's ear.The light was taken off Gerey's face and it landed on another person - a female, with quite a lot of black, tangled hair and a pale skin. She was tied, she was bullied and, taped at her hands and mouth. Her sky blue and white Ingfalls High uniform was shredded! Gerey knew what it was. She was almost a victim of... rape!
The big boy picked Gerey up easily and slammed his back against the cold wall which knocked out his breath for seconds.
“Now that you know, we -” the boy instantly withdrew his hands from Gerey.He stared at his palms for about five seconds like a baby seeing them for the first time will do.“Wha - What have you done!?” the boy asked, sounding angrier. He reached forward to touch Gerey who was feeling like his hair was aflame and he let out an hideous yowl that must have echoed till the ends of the school.
Gerey was just as confused as the two boys who didn't know what to do with him but he couldn't take any chances. With all the strength he could gather, he stretched out his unexplainably long arms and put them all over the plump, neckless chap who shrieked uncontrollably, longer and more monstrously than anything Gerey had heard all his life.
The boy's face was bright red and like poorly roasted pork by the time Gerey got his hands of him but Gerey didn't have time to admire his handwork, as the boy took to his heel. Not long afterwards, the second boy did the same, dropping his flashlight to the ground as he hastened off.
Gerey heaved sighs of relief before picking up the flashlight. He looked at the feminine frame on the floor who was staring wide eyed back at him before peeling the tape off her mouth.
“H - hello?” the girl called weakly with a high pitched voice. After a series of little questions, the girl, Aerorn, asked the question that was already causing havoc in Gerey's head, “what was it you did to those guys?”
As they walked down the aisle, towards their different classes, Gerey replied as plainly as he could, “I - I don't know, too.”
**
Shades, Aunt Brione's cat stood next to Uncle Eallric - Brione's husband drinking sloppily of a large pool of milk.
Gerey sat on a part of the three seater dinning table, pretending to go through a magazine he'd seen lying around although he was trying to make sense of what had happened in school that day.Aunt Brione came in not long afterwards with two plates of Spaghetti Bolognaise for Gerey and Eallric who was running his fingers on his desk impatiently, before returning for her plate of Steak and Ale Pie.
Halfway through the meal, Aunt Brione spoke up, “I know something is wrong Eallric, so don't tell me nothing,” she dropped her spoon and looked intently at Eallric - her husband, “what happened?”
Ingfall's Chief Inspector, Eallric Hancey, pretended to choke on his spaghetti to divert Brione's attention but it didn't work. Gerey was well aware of the scene playing before his eyes. Good old uncle Eallric always drummed his fingers on the table when worried so it was never difficult to tell when he was.
“Uhm - it's nothing -”
“Don't tell me that!” Aunt Brione replied crossly, cutting him off.“Oh, okay. Something happened at work today. The body of a br - bride was found in a river. The entire neighbourhood is convinced her husband killed her b - but, the man swore he'd never seen her in his - life,” Uncle Eallric took in a lump of spittle, “and - I could tell that - he wasn't - lying, I mean, I'm trained in detecting lies.”Saturdays were famous for being bubbly and lazy in the Police Department, Ingfalls. The days that fell into the the weekend section were considered half days by the PD and that was why Eallric Hancey's Peugeot 404 could be seen driving out of no. 3, Atholl Esplanade, in the Eleventh hour of the day to work, with his car's radio frequency on Vintage Inspiration (97.3 FM) blasting old Rock 'n' Roll music.The enchanting sun's bright, pleasant rays had unfurled gently like a peacock's feathers will for admiration by hankering spectators and had extended itself to all of Ingfalls; and it's neighbouring provinces that made up Wabrook, with golden luminescence.Eallric's 404 zoomed down a slanted, narrow-laned boulevard where he sped past a woman in an orange, flowered gown pushing a bassinet along with her, before his car spewed collected earth from the tarred road all over an old man with a tobacco pipe hanging between his lips. As he tu
Flaxen haired Cwena Engow awakened a few minutes ahead of her alarm clock's habitual screech that ran through dawn's tranquility causing agitation to her dreams every morning.She lazily sat up on her modest bed, pushing out the varying pitches of crickets seeking a mate and staring at a couple of pictures that dangled from the flowered, pale, yellow walls of her room. The first portrait was of a five year old minor with a bright grin on her small face with pouted lips trying to blow out the candles on her cake. The second was when she was around nine, she'd insisted on dying her hair black when she'd gone with her parents to Hythorp; one of the provinces that made up Wabrook, west of Ingfalls.She glanced at the third painting before yawning loudly, causing droplets of tears to fill her eyes.As she stood up from her bed, unto the cold, white tiles, the corner of her eyes flashed at the first frame, but this time, there was something
The rest days of the week hastened away - one after the other, like an avalanche of snow and ice, and in no time, it was Saturday; the day Gerey and Cwena had planned to examine the odd, frayed book Oswic had given them.Gerey woke up around at exactly 9:53 a.m. just as he'd set his alarm to do every Saturday which (when compared to the norm), was later than usual - and odd, too. He spent about an hour cleaning his teeth, washing his body, polishing his hair and putting on a shiny black raglan sleeve.As he stepped out of his room, the delicious scent of Aunt Brione's Bacon and Eggs blew his way, and like a cowboy's lasso, it culled Gerey to the kitchen.The dining room held a pretty large, polished, Chestnut coloured dining table where Gerey sat, impulsively pattering his thumb and two other fingers on the table whilst whistling a familiar tune he'd know all his life. Behind him, next to a window that allowed the sun's ray in, on a f
“What the...!!”Gerey roared out. After all they'd been through, the curiousity they'd bore for a week, listening to the nonsense the Old trickster who'd manipulated their Principal into sacking their beloved Mr. Alas Sergo had spilled in class, the book was empty?!They'd both gone astray in their thoughts thinking of the vile and mean and dirty and old Oswic Osbald, and they didn't realize a large mouth with an awkwardly red tongue that spawned out of nowhere, clasped to the yellow, brittle paper of the book. It was a huge shock that shuddered through them when an insolent, loud and shameless voice shouted at them, “What are you two doing! Keeping me open?”They were both taken aback, Cwena looked up at the window to see if anyone was there and Gerey stared at the door, expecting anyone to come in at that moment.“I'm the book you dolts!” the book said in a boring, matter
Inspector Bertio cautiously put his phone to his ear like it will explode, making a ruin of the unblemished building of the Police Department, Ingfalls, if he didn't employ ample care.A mild voice, chock-full with supremacy, domination and authority spoke on the other end.“I know for sure that your constabulary is very well aware of the case at Radford Glade - the disappearance of everyone present for Mr. Wadsev's promotion to CEO - a total of Seventeen individuals including Mr. Wadsev and his wife, and I'm also certain that radical actions are already being executed or formulated by the police force - but - YOU MUST HURRY,” the person on the other end paused, “and we expect a report from the Chief Inspector, personally, latest by Monday.”“Okay sir -” Bertio replied like a programmed doll.“And did I add that,” the voice subsided to a hush, “the pres
Eallric's 404 slid out of the garage like a caterpillar out of its burrowed habitat. The red of its tail light flashed on Gerey who stood a few metres; in his Ingfalls High's raiment, making known to Eallric the places he couldn't see with the side mirror - to avoid a scratch.After a minute of hitting on the break pedal before allowing it slither out of the carport bit by bit and without a scratch, Gerey hastily shoved his school bag into the secondary division of the car and sat his butts down next to Eallric who was breathing noisily and grinning from ear to ear like a numskull at Brione who waved the duo off as they slowly departed no. 3, Atholl Esplanade.As they propelled down Atholl Esplanade - past a few rusty streetlamps, in the warm restrictions of the car that failed to protect them from the blisteing morning sun, Eallric turned on the radio and tune
Inspector Eallric's 404 picked up pace as it raced down a sloped, remote alleyway which went on below a bridge that connected Brickfield Row and Dove Route together. The alley, Providence Passage, had congested waste bins - places of tourism for flies and maggots, nearly everywhere one's neck turned.As the Peugeot 404 zoomed on; below the friable, unkempt bridge, a retrospect of what he'd experienced on Saturday, along Haunted Hart, as he went on police business to Radford Glade, played in his mind. Right from the very moment he'd driven out of the dark, mind blowing scenery, he couldn't firmly say that he'd seen what he did. It was like a dream. A nightmare. And even if by chance, he was certain of what he'd seen and his mental state, there was absolutely no one buying his tale.A shadowy sensation befell Eallric as him, and his car, were shielded from the su
The words of Sir. Oswic replayed and echoed in Gerey's head as small dribbles of sweat ran down his red hair and tickled his armpits in attempts to let out (at least) fume from his aching arms, “You are the harbinger of sanity to this ignoble world - the gift itself being ‘Pyrokinesis’.”“I - I can't do this.” Gerey retorted, gasping for breath. “Don't say that my dear boy. If you had thoughts of being able to burn down churches, or create volcanoes or even melt a piece of plastic on your first day, you have been dwelling in your fantasies, and this - is reality. Guess what else is reality, boy?”“Ugh, what, sir?” Gerey asked, heaving and puffing like he'd trotted all the way from Ledale to Deham without stopping for a rest. He looked straight into the waned, wise eyes of the wizard, Sir. Oswic.“The verity that this world rests not on my shoulders, no