by T Ariyanna
Grite slammed its hand into Void's chest, and the boy was sent flying backwards. His back hit the wall, and he felt the shallow wound from before split open. His back grew cool with the thick blood that stuck to his skin. Instinctively, he bared his teeth at Grite and growled.
He realized what he was doing, and stopped. Grite laughed at him again, throwing its head back. “You really are pathetic. You don't know how to do anything, or what to do. Why are you still fighting? You have no reason to, nothing to go back to. No one's waiting for you outside of this cell, no one's missing you. You're just hurting yourself, but you’re literally unable care! It's hilarious!”
“And what about you? You don't care about yourself. You could stand up to Crestyss, but you don't. You have no reason to stay here, yet you do. What's your deal?”
“You really don't know anything. You poor fool. If only you would help us and remember, you wouldn't have to ask such stupid questions. Oh well. If you don’t care, why should I?”
Grite descended upon Void. The demon snagged the boy's arms, and pressed his hands back to the stubs of his arms. The edges of his skin met and knotted together, reattaching his hands. Void held back his screams as his hands rejoined his body, leaving only faint scars on his wrists to remind him.
Grite stepped away to admire its work, and Void glared at the demon. “Now what?” he spat.
“Now I do whatever it takes to make you remember.”
Grite lunged for Void, but the boy lashed out at him. He swung his arm to swipe at the demon's face, but his talons were gone and the burned tips of his fingers merely grazed the pale green skin of the creature. It laughed at him, and ripped into Void's cheek with its own claws.
Chunks of Void's flesh fell onto the floor, white blood splattering on the shining metal. Void felt the wound with his fingers, and found that his cheek had been ripped straight through, exposing the inside of his mouth. He licked the edges of the hole in his face, and the growing skin threatened to trap his tongue.
A low growl sounded in Void's throat, making Grite smile wider. He got to his feet and faced the demon. He eyed the dagger that laid forgotten on the ground behind the demon. He dove for the weapon, but Grite kicked him in the stomach, and he fell to the ground.
“Do you really think I'm that stupid? You ought to know better than anyone how smart a demon is. Oh, wait. You don't, do you? I'm sorry, did that bring up any old memories? No? I guess I'll just have to try harder, then,” Grite said as it took in the clueless expression on Void's face.
Void went to lunge to his feet, but he froze. The image of Grite coming for him vanished as his vision failed him. All that he could see was a pair of bright blue eyes set in black. His limbs went numb, and he felt himself falling forward.
The eyes blinked at him, and Grite erupted from behind them, coming within inches of Void's face. The demon's hand clamped around Void's throat, its claws piercing his flesh over his pulse.
White blood filled his vision, blurring the grotesque face before him. The demon's snarling smile remained until the last second, serrated teeth gnashing.
Void wandered around in shadows, unable to even see his own body. His cell was gone, leaving him in a completely empty space. There were no walls, no ceiling, no light. He wasn't even sure what he was standing on, if anything. He was lost in complete nothingness.
This must be my mind, he told himself. He looked in all directions. There's nothing here. Nothing at all. Could it really be what's inside my head?
As he stared into the blackness, he caught a flash of light far off. He took a step towards it, unsure. It flashed again, closer this time. He crept towards it slowly, wandering what he could be walking to.
Is this what they want me to find? If so, should I even go to it? Do I want them to have it? What will they do, once they get what they want. It can’t be good, so I should keep it from them. But what is it?
Another flash came, lighting everything up. Before him was a whirlwind of smoke, spinning wildly in front of him. Two glowing, purple eyes shone through the darkness, boring into him.
“What are you?” Void asked, his voice thick as though he were speaking through water. The smoke remained still.
Void flinched at another flash of light from behind the smoke. He stared it down, but it had no effect.
“Can you help me? Or are you just going to stand there?” Void asked again. He felt a tugging within himself, one that he could only explain as an annoyance.
“Nope. Don't think so. But you could help yourself.” A voice echoed in the air around him. It sounded as though it was comprised of many people. Void couldn't place a single voice among the crowd.
“What do you mean?” Void asked cautiously. His stomach was churning, and he fought against the urge to retch. Something didn't feel right to him.
“I can't tell you what I know nothing about. But you can find out yourself.”
“I've already tried! How am I supposed to do that?” Void yelled. A headache was forming in the back of his mind. A haze fell over his eyes, and his vision blurred. What is this feeling? Why do I feel like I know what's going on? He placed a hand to his forehead, grunting at the throbbing headache.
“You don't know where to start, but I do. And I can tell you. All I need is one itty bitty thing from you.” Void could hear the smile in the voices, could feel the malicious intent roiling in the smoke. There was a fire in those purple eyes that could neither be explained nor contained. And it terrified Void that something like this could be inside of himself.
“And what exactly do you need?” Void removed his hand to stare the smoke straight on. A hand emerged from the smoke, scarily pale with not a vein in sight beneath the fair skin. Red talons inched towards Void, and he stepped back.
The headache pounded, and he fell to his knees. He recognized the words, knew he had heard them before. It haunted him, teased him, but he didn’t know why. He stared into the smoke, able to make out a figure trapped inside.
Don't say it, don't say it, please, don't say it, he begged inwardly.
“A name,” the voices hissed in Void's ears. The arm lunged from the smoke and snatched his throat, choking him. Cackling filled the air as the darkness was driven away by a blinding light. Void's head felt ready to burst, and his lungs were shriveling from lack of oxygen. He clawed desperately at the hand that choked him, but it was no use. He had no strength here, wherever here was.
The pain filled his head, stabbing at the inside of his skull. He shut his eyes and screamed as loudly as he could, the last of his air tearing through his throat.
The thing that held Void shook him into silence, the laughter growing louder. His eyes opened despite the brightness, but there was nothing to be seen. Where the smoke had once spun, there was emptiness. There was no arm holding him up, no darkness swallowing him. He was suffocating on his own, and he didn't know how to stop it.
The light invaded his eyes, burning them from their sockets. He longed to scream, or cry, anything to release the searing pain. It was too much for him to handle. He started to lose his grip on himself.
Void collapsed to the floor, his arms sprawling out around him. A weight smothered him, and it was a great feat of its own just to keep his eyes open. His hand fell upon something, and he turned to look. Just in front of him was a small wooden box with a strange glow seeping from the cracks. He inched his fingers toward the circular lock, but he fainted before he could reach it.
Void was shaken awake, Grite breathing in his face. He scrambled out of the demon's grip, aware of a strange throbbing all over his body. He raised his hand to his face, wiping away blood and tears that had spilled from his eyes.
“Surprise! I hope you like what I've done with the place while you were out. It was tough keeping you under for so long, but I didn’t want you to see until I was done. I redecorated a bit, then realized that you needed a makeover. Has anyone ever told you that you look good in red?” Grite chortled mercilessly.
He stared down a
t his hands, his stomach churning. He began to gag, but there was nothing for him to lose. Blood spewed from his mouth and dripped from his flesh. As he turned back to glare at the demon, he saw it in the corner.
A pile of pale flesh heaped against the wall, covered in his blood with tufts of white hair sticking out. Repulsed, he dared another look at his arm for confirmation. His arm was pure red, stripped of all of its skin. Veins wriggled from their proper places as the blood rushed through them, and the muscles flexed grotesquely with each tiny movement he made.
Void's lip trembled as he inspected the rest of his body, but it only made him feel worse. Grite had kept him unconscious while he was skinned alive. He thought back to the headache he had in the dream, and put a shaking hand to the back of his head.
Tears stung in his eyes and leaked down his cheek, burning the exposed muscles and tissues. He gingerly felt over the jagged pieces of bone that protruded from his head, inching his fingers around them. In the middle of the wreckage that was his skull, he found the hilt of a blade. Gliding his fingers along the length of it, his burnt fingertips came into contact with something warm and slimy, that squished and pulsated under his touch. His brain.
“I see you noticed my grand plan. Since you were having such a hard time remembering, I thought I'd help you pick your brain. Great idea, right? I really hope it helped, and I didn't have to break open your skull for nothing,” Grite taunted sarcastically.
Void was frozen, his hand mere inches from the handle of the blade. He heard Grite walking towards him, but couldn't bring himself to retreat, nor fight back.
He sat helpless as the demon swatted his hand away and snatched up the dagger. Grite ripped it from Void's brain, gouging out a piece of it. The tip of the blade caught an upturned section of Void's skull and sent it flying across the room.
“Anything? Anything at all? Are you speechless at my generosity, that I would help you? Is that it? Are you impressed?”
“I'm disturbed,” Void finally breathed, twitching at the burning over his whole body as the skin grew back. He forced himself to look at the wall in front of him, worried that he might lose himself were he to watch the healing process.
“Disturbed? Not grateful, or enlightened? Just disturbed? You're telling me that you still don't remember a thing?”
Void recalled the glowing eyes from his dream, the conversation that felt all too familiar. He thought of the confusion that had filled him in the dream, that still filled him now. There was no making sense of it, even if he wanted to. There was nothing to be done but to wait.
“Nothing,” he breathed.
“Damn. That really is too bad. Especially since after all that, I'm only disturbing. I guess we'll just have to try again. And again, and again, and again, until we get it right. I have a feeling that it's going to be just you and me for a very, very long time, so we should really make the most of it, don't you think? How about I go for just downright mortifying next time, hmm?”
Grite wrapped his hand around Void’s throat. The demon pulled Void closer. “One last thing.”
Grite’s voice had changed dramatically. It was no longer shrill. It was deeper, more calculating. It froze Void with panic. “If those imaginary friends in your head ever decide to try to save you, I’ll slaughter them in front of you.”
Without another word, Grite slammed Void’s head into the wall.
Kaitlyn
The rising sun broke through the dusty windows, spilling onto Kaitlyn’s face. She woke with a whimper, curling away from the abrasive light. Who would make a house so that you get the sun rise? It makes for a terrible sleep schedule, she groaned to herself. She pulled the blanket over herself, burrowing into its warmth.
She hadn't felt the autumn cold the day before. She had been too busy sweating in the humid woods. Now, it was all she could feel this early in the morning. She wrapped the blanket around her, breathing in the scent.
She recognized it immediately as Arion's, and she reached out for him. Her hand found nothing more than emptiness, and the plushness of the chair she had collapsed in. The slight smile fell from her face as her memories flooded back to her. She turned her face into the back of the chair, biting back tears.
I've cried enough! she told herself harshly. It's not going to help get him back. And even if it did, he wouldn't want me to cry either way.
She threw the blanket onto the floor with one decisive movement. The cold air sent a shiver down her spine, and she fought against grabbing the blanket again. With a groan, she forced herself from the chair.
She righted her clothing, wrinkled and mussed from being slept in. She looked through her bag for another change of clothes, but only found a few. “A month,” she groaned, closing her bag. We'll be out for a month, and this is all the clothes I packed? I better not get anything too dirty.
She set the bag aside and took in the house. It was exactly how she’d remembered it, though there wasn't much to remember, especially when compared to the castle.
The walls were bare, the windows small and high against the ceiling. She could see the cracks in the floor where the trapdoor was. It had locked itself again as soon as she’d gotten out of it before, and no one had been able to get back in. She knew how the town had talked about coming back to burn the house, but they had all been cowards. Kraven had been the only one brave enough to stand against Arion once they had seen his power. After Arion had nearly killed Kraven in this house, none of them dared to risk their lives going against him.
She hated them all, her father especially. Of course she loved her father as well, but that was unconditional. She chose to hate him, and so she could feel them both strongly, and at the same time. She loved him because he was her father, but she hated him because he was human.
I always forget that I'm human, too, she reminded herself with a sigh. She had argued with herself over this subject more times than she could count, and had never reached a conclusion. She was different. From Kraven, and her father. From everyone. She cared about Arion, always, because he was a little boy that had needed her help. And she had quickly fallen in love with him.
They hated him because they could. It had been easiest to blame Arion for their problems, because he was different. But her father was the worst.
“I’ll not allow such treatment of your fellow student. I shall speak with Kraven and his followers, and make sure that they are properly reprimanded. So long as your friend remains a member of this town, he will be treated as such. For you, Kaitlyn, it is a promise,” he had told her when she had first befriended Arion years ago.
But it was her father in the end that had asked for his head.
They would have never thought of it if I hadn't offered to take them to Arion, though. They never would have found him. Kraven wouldn't have killed him if…
“Hey, you need to eat,” Cy said. He held out a bowl of small berries to her, and she took it gingerly. She averted her eyes from him, terrified that he might read the guilt behind them.
“Thank you, Cyllorian,” she said quietly. She popped the berries into her mouth one at a time, eating them slowly but not really tasting them. They were gone before she realized, and her hunger had only grown.
Forcing her guilt-ridden thoughts down her throat, she turned to Cy. “Are there any more?” she asked sheepishly. He nodded emotionlessly, and took the bowl from her. He left to the kitchen, and returned a few moments later. He carried a bigger bowl with a wide assortment of fruits.
“Where did all of this come from? Shouldn't anything that had been here be bad by now?” she asked, inspecting the fruit carefully.
“Theresa delivered it overnight. She left a brief note, just saying that it was for you. Don't worry about it, just eat. You'll need your strength. Today we get to the mountain.”
Kaitlyn nearly choked on a grape she had started eating, and swallowed it painfully. “The mountain by the end of the day? How do you expect us to make that much progress?”
“I was looking at
a map Arion had left here, and it looks like the fastest way is through the village, then around Centric, hugging the wall of it until we get to an opening in the Kindling Woods. There’s only a few safe places to enter, marked on the map. You’ll get lost or captured otherwise. They don’t call it The Lost Soul Woods for nothing,” he ended in a mutter.
“The Lost Soul Woods? Are you kidding?” she asked incredulously. He shook his head, and she let out her breath. “You still think we could get there by nightfall? You might be able to go on forever, but I have to rest, and eat, and…”
“I’ve thought of all that. I have a solution, but you won’t like it.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and he looked away. “You’re not leaving me behind. You got that?” she growled. Cy avoided her gaze, but his shoulders sagged at her words.
“Yeah, 'cause I'm gonna fight you on that just so I can go all by myself? No thanks, I just got this body, and I rather enjoy it.” He raised his hands in defeat.
She leaned back against the chair. She relaxed, but her eyes remained narrowed. “What's your plan, then?”
Cy pulled out the map from one of his pockets, and used his magic to levitate it in the air between them. Slowly, he traced the path he had said moments before. “We follow this path carefully, and we should get to the base of the mountain in no time.”
Kaitlyn leaned away, masking her fear at the unknown trail. She watched as Cy studied the map, seemingly at ease. A thought struck her, and she laughed abruptly. Cy looked up at her in confusion, and she said, “So, you're telling me, that I'm more terrifying to you than the village of ruthless humans, Mages who, most likely, will want to kill us, and the place with the nickname of The Lost Soul Woods? Demons make no damn sense!”