Cursed: Part One

Midnight

Night One
Central City of Gii
Benwo

Stone was cold against his cheek.

Slowly his eyes adjusted to the darkness but he didn't recognize his surroundings. Why was he on the floor? Fear gripped him and he sweat, his body cold, his heart beating as though he'd run a mile. Slowly he got to his knees but the effort seemed too much for his small, frail body.

No, no that couldn't be right.

Khadrim was no longer a young boy; he was a grown man. He'd be celebrating his twentieth birthday in a few weeks. This couldn't be possible! Or maybe that had been a dream. Could dreams be so vivid? As the darkness lessened while his eyes adjusted Khadrim recognized his surroundings, like uncovering an old memory. His old bed, the one his mother made for him every day in his youth, his half empty toy chest at the foot of the bed, the window where he'd earlier that night drawn the curtains in fear.

Maybe the rest of his life had been a dream. Maybe now, this moment, was real. Could it be possible? Closing his eyes he listened for any sign of life, for the sound of his mother quietly shuffling down the halls as she often did in her slippers when she couldn't find rest. But Khadrim heard nothing. There weren't even sounds from the insects that were usually quite loud this time of year. What time of year was that again? The details were fuzzy, like they always were.

No, this was the dream.

Insecurity nagged at his thoughts. Slowly Khadrim sat on his knees and touched his face. There wasn't even the slightest hint of stubble though his dimples seemed even deeper than usual beneath his touch. They'd grown less prominent with age. For now he'd crawl back into bed. When he woke up next he'd know the truth, or at least he hoped as much.

What terrible thoughts these were for a child.

Slowly curling his legs beneath him Khadrim stumbled back onto his knees as something terrible stabbed at his back! Burning pain spread through his shoulder, his chest, down his arm and he hunched forward in an attempt to breathe through it. Deep breaths urged the pain away and so he groped his left shoulder for the source. There was nothing. Then he felt something very strange. His skin shifted beneath his fingertips as though something terrible was crawling across his muscles and underneath his flesh. The pain returned, burning, white hot, blinding him! He collapsed onto his stomach with a thud.

His back arched and he opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. Sweat dripped down his face, filling his mouth with the sick saline taste of it. The pain only grew worse. Whatever was moving around beneath his flesh was behind both shoulders now, pushing through muscle, spreading it apart, twisting, and manipulating it in ways that flesh was never meant to stretch.

Desperately Khadrim grasped at the floor, scratching in a blind attempt to escape the pain. But there was no escape from whatever was happening to the young boy. Unnaturally his back arched further, his spine bent and pain ripped through his stomach, down his hips and his legs grew numb. Something was ripping him apart from the inside out. If it continued he would die!

The sound of him thrashing and choking for breath was interrupted by something dripping and terrible. Warmth trickled over his shoulders and dripped onto the floor. His blood was dark, black. Hadn't he scraped his knees that morning? His blood was red then but now it was like ink. What was happening to him?

This had to be the end.

This was what death felt like.

With a terrible crack a bone snapped and pushed through the flesh of Khadrim's back. There was a second crack and another bone pushed through with a sick sound of skin tearing. Something unseen was killing him! The bones pushed further painfully, muscle stretching and spreading with the bones. But they weren't breaking.