by Clayton Wood
"Long day, huh?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Things any better with Steve?" he pressed. Kyle shrugged.
"Not really."
"What's wrong?" Dad asked.
"He's nice and all," Kyle admitted, "...but he's not you."
Dad leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees.
"That's true," he conceded.
"Mom wants me to call him my stepdad," Kyle muttered.
"And you don't want to?" Dad asked. Kyle shook his head.
"He's not my dad."
"You're right," Dad replied. "He isn't." He paused then, rubbing his hands together. "But just because he isn't your father doesn't mean he can't be a father-figure to you." He smiled then. "I've had a lot of father-figures in my life."
"Really?"
"Yup," Dad confirmed. "Some better than others. But I learned from all of them. Some taught me what to do," he continued, "...and others what not to do." He tousled Kyle's hair, shooting him another smile. "Anyway, it sounds like Steve is really trying," he said. "Maybe you can try too."
Kyle kept his eyes on his lap, saying nothing.
"How's Ben doing?" Dad inquired. Kyle had told his father about Ben's parents, and how they might get a divorce. It'd been awkward to talk about, for obvious reasons.
"Okay I guess."
"Probably not," Dad countered gently. "He's probably really hurting." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and glanced sidelong at Kyle. "Divorce hurts everyone."
Kyle said nothing, staring straight forward, afraid to meet his dad's gaze. He was seized by the sudden, mad urge to ask about his own parents' divorce. To finally figure out what had happened...what had really happened...once and for all. But fear got the better of him, and he said nothing. Dad sighed, leaning back into the couch.
"You look beat," he observed. "You get any sleep last night?"
"Not really," Kyle confessed. Three weeks of nightmares had taken their toll.
"Why don't you take a nap?" Dad suggested. Kyle frowned; he hadn't seen his dad in nearly a week. He hardly wanted to waste their time together sleeping. But Dad was insistent. "I need a nap too," he confessed. "These overnights have been kicking my butt. We'll hang out after."
Kyle nodded, walking toward the staircase. He trudged up the stairs, then went into his room, flopping unceremoniously onto his bed. Something hard jabbed into his back, and he sat up, spying a small ring on the bed. He picked it up; the band was shiny and silver-colored, with a large yellow gemstone set on top. The yellow turned to a pale blue color at the edges...it was actually pretty cool looking. Intricate symbols were carved in the band, with tiny bluish crystals dotting the sides.
It was his father's ring, or at least it had been until a few weeks ago. Dad had given it to Kyle for his birthday. Of course, what Kyle had really wanted was a paintball gun like his uncles had, but Mom had refused, saying something about losing an eye. Instead, his dad had given him this ring. Kyle frowned at it; he could've sworn he'd left it on his dresser, but with his recent insomnia, his memory wasn't what it used to be.
Kyle stared at the ring, rolling it between his fingers. It'd been clutched in his father's hand when he'd been found beaten and bloodied on the street as a boy. Dad had kept it all these years, insisting that it had been his father's, although he had no real memory of who his father was. He'd given to Kyle on his birthday three weeks ago, much to Kyle's disappointment. There was no way he'd be caught wearing the thing, after all. Luckily he'd gotten some money from his grandparents, so he could buy himself a real gift. He glanced at his left wrist, where he wore the new watch he’d bought. It was an outdoor survival watch...equal parts waterproof, shock-resistant, and awesome.
He laid back down on his bed, holding his ring out in front of him; it didn't really fit on any finger other than his thumb. He slid it onto his left thumb, staring at the center gemstone. His eyelids grew heavy, and he closed them, feeling his mind wander.
He jerked awake suddenly, opening his eyes and looking upward.
A ripple appeared in the center of the ceiling, spreading outward.
Kyle froze.
Another ripple appeared, as if the ceiling were the surface of a lake, and a pebble had been thrown in.
What the...
Suddenly the ceiling ripped open, revealing a black hole that grew rapidly, engulfing the entire ceiling. The blackness spread down around the walls, tiny pinpoints of light appearing, then streaking outward in all directions. The pinpoints grew painfully bright, coalescing into a single, blinding white light.
Then a force slammed into Kyle, shoving him against his bed. Agonizing pain shot through his chest, ripping upward into his jaw and down his left arm.
He tried to scream, but no sound came out.
Kyle clutched his chest, his vision blackening. Pain lanced through his ears, his skull feeling as if it would explode. The bed dropped out underneath him, and suddenly he was falling. He flailed his arms, screaming silently.
And then the blackness took him.
Chapter 2
Ampir shouts, a beam of white-hot light shooting out of his armored palm. It slams into the man straddling Vera, taking his head clean off of his shoulders. He falls forward onto Vera's back, a charred stump all that is left of his neck. The dagger he'd held against Vera's throat falls to the floor with a clatter.
The other men in the room freeze, staring wide-eyed at Ampir. Then they burst toward him, daggers gleaming.
Ampir sweeps his armored hand from left to right, another beam of light shooting outward from his palm. It annihilates everything it touches, burning through his enemies' flesh at their mid-sections. Their upper bodies topple from their waists, falling to the floor in a smoldering heap.
"Vera!" Ampir calls out, limping up to her. She tries to get up, then stops, grimacing in pain. The back of her nightgown is stained with blood.
"Are they...?" Vera begins.
"They're dead," Ampir confirms.
"Mommy!" Junior cries, rushing to Vera's side. Ampir lifts her nightgown up, exposing her lower back. Blood wells up from a narrow gash to one side of her spine, trickling down her side. He'd seen wounds like this before, in the military. Small wounds that hid devastating internal injuries. He had to get her to a surgeon...fast.
"Grandpa," Vera says, grimacing as she pushes herself up to a sitting position. "He's still out there!"
"He's gone baby," Ampir replies, but Vera shakes her head, rising unsteadily to her feet. She pulls him toward the bedroom door and into the hallway. There, propped up against the wall, is Grandpa.
"Daddy!" Vera gasps, rushing forward. They reach the old man's side, and Vera kneels before him. Grandpa's eyes are open, but they see nothing.
"No Daddy, no!" Vera cries, tears streaming down her cheeks. She hugs her father, pressing her cheek against his.
"Honey," Ampir begins, then stops himself. He waits, though he knows that more enemies will be coming. No one would be stupid enough to try to kill him and fail. "We need to go," he says at last, putting a hand on her shoulder. She pulls away from his touch, turning on him.
"You let him die out here!" she accuses. "You..."
"You're going to die," Ampir interrupts, his tone sharp. "You and Junior, if we don't leave. Now."
She stares at him silently, her eyes filled with rage. He grabs her under one arm, lifting her up, and she lets him. But he can feel something different between them now, something that had never been there before. A wound that might never heal. The thought terrifies him.
"Come on," he urges, guiding her back into the bedroom. Junior is still there by the doorway, his face deathly pale. The boy says nothing, but Ampir can tell he'd heard everything.
I let his Grandfather die.
He walks past Junior, gently setting Vera on the bed, then stepping up to the safe. He puts on his armor, until he is covered from neck to toe in black metal, runes pulsing blue in random, shifting patterns on its surface. He grabs a
silver visor from the safe, pulling it over his eyes. The room instantly brightens, the visor sharpening every detail.
Before, he was mortal. A man. Now he is a god.
They were going after my armor, he realizes. It's the only explanation for why they hadn't simply bombed his home into oblivion. They must have been afraid they'd destroy his armor.
The fools.
Still, they'd almost succeeded. And whatever had drained his magic earlier was still out there, close by. While he has little to fear with his armor on, Vera and Junior are still vulnerable.
He turns to Vera and Junior, both sitting on the edge of the bed.
"We're going," he tells her, "...to get you to a surgeon."
Vera says nothing, pushing herself up from the bed, wincing with the effort. Ampir steps forward, slipping one hand under her legs, the other around her shoulders, and lifts her up. With the power of his armor, she seems to weigh next to nothing.
"Junior," he calls out. "Get on my back." Junior hesitates, still standing by the doorway, his eyes wide with fear. Ampir takes a step toward the boy, then feels a vibration in his skull. Something big punches through the ceiling above their heads, slamming through the floor beside them, leaving a gaping hole there. A large metal cylinder.
A bomb.
"Junior!" Ampir yells, bolting toward Junior. He yanks strands of power into his mind's eye, weaving them frantically into a tight knot and shoving it outward.
* * *
Kyle's back slammed into something...hard.
The air burst from his lungs, making him see stars. He gasped for air, clutching at his chest, the pressure and pain there excruciating.
And then, as quickly as it had come, the pain vanished.
Kyle laid there for a moment, taking deep, gulping breaths. The blackness in his vision faded, revealing dozens of stars glittering in an inky black sky far above.
Kyle grimaced, propping himself up on his elbows. A bed of dirt and dry, dead leaves lay beneath him, small stones poking his buttocks and the backs of his legs. All around him were tall trees with gnarled branches, their leaves lined with a faint blue glow.
Kyle froze, staring at the trees. His heart began to hammer in his chest, a cold sweat trickling from his armpits down to his flanks.
Where am I?
He hesitated, then pushed himself off of the ground, rising to his feet. He spun around in a slow circle, seeing forest all around him.
Okay, he thought, fighting down a rising panic. He took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. I was just in bed. I fell asleep.
And then the ceiling had ripped open, and he'd fallen...and now he was here.
I must be dreaming.
If so, it was by far the most vivid dream he'd ever had. He could feel the hard dirt and tiny twigs under his feet, poking into his socks. But there was no other explanation. He'd fallen asleep, and then started dreaming about all of...this.
"Well then," he mumbled. He looked at the tree nearest him, spotting crescent-shaped fungi clinging to the base of the trunk, a faint orange glow pulsing from their underbellies. He took a step closer, putting a hand on the tree's rough bark. He spotted something crawling on its trunk – a small, caterpillar-like insect with glowing red spots on its back. It was crawling right toward his hand; he withdrew it quickly, and the insect froze, the spots on its back flashing bright red. Kyle took a step backward.
The caterpillar split in half, falling to the ground.
Kyle stared at the fallen insect, then squatted down, grabbing a small stick. He poked at one of the caterpillar halves with it, but it didn't move.
Maybe it's playing dead, he reasoned. If so, splitting in half sure made for a convincing act!
He stood, spotting something to his right...a tree much larger than the others, about fifty feet away. It was as good a destination as any; he stepped gingerly toward it, suddenly wishing that he was wearing shoes. The tree was huge, and thick green vines spiraled up the massive trunk and branches. Some of the vines hung down from the branches, extending all the way to the forest floor, where they lay in long, tangled loops. Small, white, root-like appendages lined the sides of each vine, each one digging into the smooth bark.
Kyle walked up to one of the vines on the ground, squatting before it. He poked at it with his stick. Nothing happened. He wedged the stick under the vine, lifting it upward. There was a glowing yellow stripe on its underside, and some sort of slimy goo. He grimaced, dropping the stick and standing up.
Suddenly his legs shot out from under him, a sharp pain lancing through his left calf. He fell flat onto his back. Something tightened around his leg, and he reached down, feeling something cool and slimy there...a vine wrapped around his calf! Little white root-things sprang out from the sides of the vine, poking into his skin. Kyle screamed, kicking his leg. He grabbed the vine with his hands, trying to pull it off, but the vine tightened its grip, squeezing his leg so hard that it turned purple. Kyle screamed again, flipping onto his stomach and trying to crawl away. The vine coiled up his leg like a snake, its slimy underbelly wrapping around his knee and lower thigh. Its grip tightened, his foot starting to go numb.
Then the vine went slack.
Kyle scrambled forward on his hands and knees, feeling the slick vine slip off his leg. He sprang to his feet, backing away from the vine quickly. But to his relief, it didn't move. Kyle followed its length with his eyes, then did a double-take.
The vine had been severed, thick, yellow fluid oozing from each end. The glowing stripe on its underside had faded.
What the...?
He glanced down at his left leg, seeing a spiraling double-row of tiny red dots marking his skin there. He imagined them burrowing into his flesh and sucking on his blood. A chill ran down his spine. His dream had nearly turned into a nightmare!
The wind picked up, howling through the forest, making the vines on the huge silver tree swing on their branches. Kyle shivered, then turned away from the tree, walking back the way he'd come. The forest seemed darker now, the soft orange glow of the mushrooms on the tree trunks the only indication of the trees ahead. He stepped carefully through the darkness, wincing as a rock jabbed into the sole of his foot.
He heard a snap behind him.
Kyle froze, goosebumps rising on his arms. He turned slowly, peering into the darkness...and froze. There, not fifty feet from where he stood, two iridescent eyes stared back at him from deep within the shadows.
Kyle blinked, half-expecting the eyes to vanish, but they didn't. They floated there in the darkness, staring silently at him. Kyle took a step backward, swallowing in a suddenly dry throat.
Okay Kyle, he told himself. Dream's over. Time to wake up now.
The eyes moved, seeming to grow as they weaved sinuously through the shadows. Kyle took another step back, his heart racing. The disembodied eyes moved...right toward him.
Time to wake up Kyle!
He made out a dark form around the glowing eyes, thick tufts of black fur sprouting from a long, arched back. Two cropped ears standing erect above a large, wolf-like head. He heard a low growl, saw a row of razor-sharp teeth shimmering in the starlight. Silver cords of slimy drool hung from the beast's mouth.
It stopped, staring at him. Lowered itself to the ground slowly, crouching, now only some forty feet away.
Then it lunged forward!
Kyle cried out, breaking into a mad dash away from the beast. He heard a thump behind him, followed by rhythmic grunting.
Oh god oh god oh god...
Kyle ran as fast as he could, leaping over a fallen log and nearly crashing into another tree. He glanced back, spotting the beast bounding toward him with frightening speed, its teeth bared in a vicious snarl, ears flat against the back of its head.
Then his left shoulder slammed into a tree...hard.
He spun around, tripping over his legs and falling forward, landing on his right shoulder. Pain shot through his arm, and he cried out, scrambling to his feet. The beast lunged at
him, slamming into his back and knocking him onto his belly on the ground. He felt something sharp rip down the center of his back.
Kyle screamed.
He twisted around frantically, seeing the nightmarish creature looming over him, thick cords of saliva dripping from its razor-sharp teeth. It snapped at Kyle's face, and he threw his hands in front of him, feeling its teeth slash at his forearms. Blood poured down his arms, dripping into his eyes. He cried out, frantically beating at the beast's head with his fists.
The beast drew back, then lunged for his face again, twisting its head sideways, its jaws clamping down on his temples. Kyle felt its teeth sink into his flesh, clamping on his skull. He shrieked, grabbing at the creature's head blindly, trying futilely to push it away. His right thumb sank into something soft.
The beast yelped, releasing Kyle's head and backpedaling, pawing at its left eye.
Kyle scrambled to his feet, stumbling away from the horrible creature. He gained speed, weaving around the trees, pumping his legs as fast as he could. He heard the beast's rhythmic grunting behind him.
No no no!
He saw a gap in the forest ahead...the edge of a cliff dropping to a river some twenty feet below. He sprinted toward it, hearing the beast's grunting getting louder as it gained on him. He neared the edge of the cliff, seeing the sheer drop to the dark waters below. He hesitated for a split second, fear twisting his guts.
The beast slammed into him from behind, shoving him off of the cliff. He screamed, his stomach lurching as he entered into free-fall. He felt the sudden shock of icy wetness enveloping him, soaking instantly through his clothes. He swam upward, bursting through the surface of the river and taking a deep, gasping breath. He looked back, spotting the wolf-like creature standing at the edge of the cliff twenty feet above, its iridescent eyes following him as the river carried him slowly away from it. The creature stared at Kyle for a moment longer, then turned away from the cliff.
Thank god, Kyle thought, staring at the terrible beast. Oh thank you god!