The Game

Death, Trust, and Pixie Dust

Chapter 9- Death, Trust, and Pixie Dust

 The truth is a horribly dissatisfying thing. All people speak of honesty as pure and honorable, but none speak of it as it really is: destructive. It is nearly as devastating as a lie. It has the same effect, so it might as well be the same thing, because it causes the same damage. I think that if people realized that neither lies nor truths were more pure than the other, they could step back and see that it was them that could break hearts, destroy friendships, and tear one another apart. 

So to define whether what Nate and Greg had been telling me as a lie or what they would be telling me as a truth really was not important as just hearing what they had to say.

 I looked between the pair as Nate repeated, “We’re both faeries, Dana.” And I was not as shocked as I should be.

 It was obvious the pair were different. That had been apparent ever before they started fighting zombies. They were ridiculously good looking, with facial features such as strong jaws, regal noses, high cheekbones, and porcelain skin that almost made them look related if they didn’t look and act completely opposite. And the two being fey was the only explanation for their supernatural powers that didn’t require flipping through Marvel comic books to find the heroes that matched.

 “Are you the good guys?” I questioned. “Or the bad guys?”

 “Good,” Greg said immediately.

 “That’s what a bad guy would say.” I said.

Greg pouted, looking to Nate. The dark haired man said, “She has a point.”

“You don’t look like them.” I said. “You’re more…human.”

“And I hope that’s enough to make you trust us for now.” Nate said. “Because now we need to move.”

Greg nodded in agreement and the pair moved in a whirlwind frenzy around what had previously been a battlefield, now just another opening of trees in the forest of death.  Several bodies lied crooked and scattered like a deck of cards, all in various states of decay, no sign of life in their paled faces, all turned to the sky as if welcoming the sight of a blue sky far above the trees, though there was none.

   I knew that the fey were now trapped inside the corpses they had used as pawns, thanks to Greg and Nate’s power, but I highly doubted with the way fey had been portrayed to me so far that those possessing fey were dead, simply because they were not moving or showing themselves.

  The bodies were now piled up, one atop another, in what looked like the makings of a bonfire, sticks and kindling included. Nate was, astoundingly, pulling a humongous tree behind him and situated it between the corpses, the astounding part being that no ordinary man could have dragged such a huge weight with such ease, but it should probably be taken into consideration that he was neither an ordinary man, nor a man at all. Greg was kneeled down beside a body, the one that was just a young girl, who must have died more than ten years ago.

  I bent down beside him, and watched carefully as he rubbed his hands together. He said, “They shouldn’t have died.” His mouth turned up into a grimace and I could feel a strong wave of heat emanating from him. It felt angry, if heat could give off emotions, his warmth had a fiery disturbance to it that made me want to agree with his anger.

  He continued, “This is what we have to stop. We can’t let this continue.”  I didn’t know what he meant, but I couldn’t help but to agree that no, this can’t continue. If he meant that the death of innocent people and the mutilation of their bodies afterward needed to end then I was in total agreement. Although in front of me were only disgusting corpses filled with maggots and rot, all I could see were living people. Bright smiles, wide eyes, blood in their cheeks as they greet their family.