Northern Forest of Moutan
Autumn 1461
Mine...the hungry rasping voice whispered in Pul's head, it's laughter echoing crazily.
Finally! You're mine! Mine!
All around him, voices cried and jeered, as shadowy figures circled him in the darkness.
Master! It's come! It's here!
Look at it! Snow white and beautiful...such a fine skin for our Lord!
A fine human skiiinnnnn!
The vessel is awakening! It's here! the voices crowed and shrieked with excitement.
"Shut up! Shut up!" Pul screamed, covering his ears frantically, but he could not block out the sound.
"Pul..." whispered a hoarse voice in the distance, jerking him out of the black fog. The shadow voices instantly retracted into silence.
When he finally opened his eyes, looking around him, the world had become an explosion of red.
Pul gasped, clawing his fingers against his throat and realizing with horror that his fingernails had formed into sharpened black points and that he was cutting his own skin into shreds. Yet as fast as he was creating them, the gouges healed over, sealing over the searing pain he felt as he clutched at his neck. His throat burned, hot and dry, and his tongue felt thick in his mouth as if he would die from thirst.
What...what is this feeling? he wondered, feeling a scream bubble up inside him. He stared at his bloodstained hands and at a world around him that no longer made sense. Alone in an area of flattened trees, he found himself curled up in a pool of blood and severed limbs. He was soaked in so much blood that it had encrusted his eyelashes and he could taste its iron bitterness in his mouth.
He hauled himself up onto his knees and stared at the carnage, feeling terror rise up inside.
"I..."
Arms, legs...h-heads...What happened...Brother...where?
He opened his mouth to cry out for his brother, but he only heard himself croak in pain.
"Pul..."
Pul's head snapped in the direction of the voice and before he realized it his body was already moving, running swifter than the wind. As he ran, he became aware that he was crashing through the forest on all fours with such force that trees snapped, bushes were flattened and the crows that had been feeding on the stinking, rotting body parts around him screamed in outrage, the cacophony of sound too loud for his newly sensitive ears. He clutched them and then screamed realizing that they were elongated into a shape he didn't recognize.
He stopped dead in the middle of the forest and wildly touched his ears and face and then stopped when his trembling hands fell upon something long and hard protruding upward from his forehead through his blood matted hair.
Horns.
Crash. Bang. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The cacophony was intolerable.
From the thudding of the blood through the veins in his body, to the crazy thump of his heart, everything was too bright, too loud. And the smells of blood, cracked wood, dirt...his senses were overwhelmed as if he was being tumbled in a giant ocean of noise and colour, barely making sense of it. Enraged by the chaotic jumble, he wanted to claw his eyes out and rip his ears from his head. But someone had called for him...Who?
YOU ARE READING
Migong - Book 1
Fantasy"Mine..." he repeated softly, drawing his head back to stare at her. Dazed by his beauty, she could only stare back. Feiyan flinched as he brought his face even closer. The ruby red eyes above her were framed with heavy white lashes, and they bore...
