| 4 | Retrace

6K 306 212
                                    

⥐ ⋞ ☽ ⋟ ⥐


Jackson wished that last night would be a haze—he hoped it was just a nightmare, but it wasn't. It happened. All of it. He'd turned into a creature, he'd killed that innocent man, and then he raced through the woods like the very animal he'd almost lost his life to.

The beast he'd become had retreated behind his real body, but his clothes were gone, and he had no idea where he was.

As the sun climbed higher into the sky, Jackson finished cleaning the dried blood from his tawny brown skin and hesitantly left the small river behind. He trekked aimlessly through the snowy woods, dizzy and disorientated, constantly checking behind him for the creature that attacked him. But there wasn't a single sound out there this morning.

That didn't distract him from the thoughts lingering in the back of his mind, though. None of it did. What if someone saw him? He wasn't only naked, but.... He looked down at his crotch and covered it with his hands as the dismay slowly constricted him. What would someone think if they saw a man without a dick? A man with scars on his chest. A man who wasn't really a man at all.

He scowled, trying to dismiss the dysphoric thoughts. But he hated his body. He hated the skin that he was born in, and walking around naked made him as uncomfortable as showering and dressing did.

With a deep, breathy huff, he continued onwards, trying to focus on where he was going—on what was important. Each snowflake that fell around him melted within an inch of his burning body; he no longer felt the cold, but that didn't relieve him. This wasn't right. How was this real? Part of him wanted to convince himself that this was all some trippy experience—maybe this new environment was having a freaky effect on his brain, or maybe someone at the bar slipped something into his drink.

But he wasn't that naïve.

No. This was real.

What was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to go? He had no idea where he was. Wherever he looked, all that lay before him were trees, mountains, and snow. He didn't recall which direction he'd come from, and whenever he tried to remember, all he could see was Daniel's mangled body. All he could taste was blood. And the monster hiding inside him stirred.

Was this what happened to the others who had come to Ascela? To Ethan? Had they all been attacked in Greykin's mountains just like he had? He felt sick. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, but the only sounds that came from his mouth were his ragged breaths.

Had Ethan been hunted down and mauled? Or had he survived and turned into a beast, too?

Jackson grimaced when he reached the treeline, and he stopped walking to stare ahead. The mountains stretched as far as his eyes could see, and behind him, the forest continued for just as long. He desperately searched for something that he recognized or something that might jog his memory, but all the daunting white gave him was a deep feeling of hopelessness.

He was never going to find his way back. He'd never find Ethan or the journalists he'd come for, and if he didn't starve to death first, he was sure another rotting, crazed animal would burst out of the woods and kill him.

With a frustrated huff, he sat down in the snow and buried his head in his arms, which he rested on his knees. This was it. He was giving up. Why waste his breath aimlessly walking around when he could just wait for his end to find him?

A shimmer of dark blue then snatched his attention. He stared down at the gemstone dangling around his neck on its bloody, gold chain. It was the only thing he hadn't lost when he turned into a monster. He wanted to feel relieved that he hadn't lost the last remaining piece of his mother, but staring at it made him feel like it served as a grim reminder of what he was doing out in the middle of nowhere. He'd lost everyone who mattered to him...everyone but Ethan. He had to find him. If he was out there somewhere running around as a beast, Jackson had to locate him. No matter where Ethan was...or what he was...Jackson couldn't leave him.

Greykin Chronicles | Greykin MountainWhere stories live. Discover now