Creep

Chapter Three: Searching for Answers

Ignoring the protests from his father, Angus left the house and strode deep into the city. The vial felt heavy in his pocket. The streets were full of people, each one talking too loud or just getting in his way. As he walked, his mind turned to memories of Moonwich. The streets had been full then too. Full of panicking bodies, screams, and shouts. Full of blood. Angus reached for his sword, only to find it wasn't there. But that made sense, didn't it? He wasn't in Moonwich now; he was in Red Fern. He didn't need a sword here. He was home and safe. But panic rose in him, trying to convince him otherwise. He had to get away and leave the crowd behind.

Ducking into an alley, Angus leant against a wall and took a deep breath. Trembling, he looked around ensuring he was alone. His mouth felt dry and his knees felt weak. His hands shook almost violently. What was happening to him?

"Drink me..." he heard the vial say. Because the voice had to be coming from the vial, didn't it? It made a strange amount of sense. The other thing that made a certain amount of sense was that he knew he'd feel better if he drank from the vial. Somehow, he knew he'd feel strong.

After once again checking that he was alone, Angus took the vial from his pocket and thought about the liquid within. It would be easy to drink its contents. So easy. All he had to do was remove the stopper, open his mouth, and pour it in. So simple. 'I could just drop it right down the hatch,' he thought.

And, yet, he hesitated.

He shouldn't drink it until he knew what it was, should he? Who knew what it could do to him?

Angus dropped the vial back into his pocket, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. As he waited for the world to calm down and make sense again, he tried to clear his mind. Thoughts of Moonwich were doing him no good at all; he needed to focus on the here and now. Brushing dust from his clothes, he tried to make himself look a little more presentable. Angus took another deep breath. He was ready, and he was only a short walk away from where Wylie Airaldii worked her magic.

Someone watched him from the shadows. Someone very interested in the vial in his pocket.

*****

Hidden in an alleyway just off the busy marketplace, Corvir Slanmaw watched the world go by from his spot on the ground. Greenrust Market was buzzing with life. Smells of cooking food drifted past his nose, cruelly reminding him that he hadn't eaten for a while. Every now and then someone official-looking would pass him by, but he couldn't work up the courage to tell them what he'd witnessed the night before. The feeling that they wouldn't believe him or, worse, think he was somehow involved, rooted him to the spot. But he had to do something. He couldn't just leave it, could he?

Telling himself that he'd know when the right person came along, Corvir continued to wait. And, while he waited, he wished he'd stuck around in the woods to bag himself a rabbit. His stomach's growl sounded a lot like an angry snarl. Deciding it would be easy to steal a pie or an apple - or perhaps both - from one of the market stalls, Corvir staggered out of the alley. The stagger wasn't a result of too much to drink, it was part of his act. On the whole, people thought he was a drunk, and he'd long ago realised this was something he could use to his advantage. Stumbling around dressed as he dressed was a sure-fire way to make sure most people gave him a wide berth. And the lengths these people would go to in order to avoid eye contact was frankly impressive; they'd look everywhere apart from at him. It was in those moments that Corvir was able to get himself a spot of lunch. And, sometimes, a little something for later on.

His filthy hands grabbed and clutched at whatever they could reach as Corvir took what he could without even looking properly at the stall. Beggars can't be choosers, after all. With his arms and pockets full, he retreated back into the dreary alleyway and admired his haul. There were no pies this time, but he had a large selection of fruit. It was enough to get him through the day until he could go hunting again and for that he was grateful. He placed most of the fruit in his various pockets, but he kept a peach out to eat at that moment. The juice ran down his chin into his scraggly beard as soon as he'd taken his first bite. It was delicious, possibly the best peach he'd ever stolen... or tasted for that matter.