Woven Spectacles

Cryptid

A harsh wisp of frigid breath vibrated his chest; the fog floating from his chilled lips to disappear into the clouds creeping through the sky. His keen ears picked up the same from the right where his companion stood, their copper eyes latched onto him in a mannerism the man found disconcerting.
“How did you reanimate these creations?” Amun inquired.
“Do you not remember Zakira?”
“How could I not?” The corner of Amun’s lips quirked up, arm instinctively blocking his friend’s harmless fist. “I have a right to say what I want since I helped you design her body.”
“I will admit that is true but she is mine and I will do with her as I please.”
His nose crinkled up in an attempt to fight back a snort of a laugh.  “How about this: since you see her as a daughter I keep her as one of my Gilded Roses.” Amun shoved back a lock of shimmery grey that began to tickle his nose. He had aged well with much of his strength from his years as a paladin still weighing him down while Silver, in contrast, was bulky but had lost much of his handsome definition to wrinkles years ago.
“Yeah, and I’m sure you could handle her mood swings.”
“Are you sure she doesn’t have an on and off switch instead?” Amun shivered despite the jest, pulling his reefer tighter around himself due to the thought of the creation.
“She will be bugged forever but it is impossible for me to care for her any less. That would be comparable to you having to kill Symeon.”
For a long while Amun refused to speak, keeping his gaze latched onto the village at the bottom. “Why did you bring my son up?” Amun pulled his attention from the first scream to tilt his head towards Silver. Unlike his usual self Silver winced at the next shrill cry of innate pain; eyes downcast and half closed as he fought back tears. Amun turned to him, grabbing at his friend’s bicep with a too gentle grip. “Are you alright Silver?”
“What will happen to the children?”
“What children?”
“The ones in the town.” Silver bit down on his lip, brows furrowing before forcing himself to look up to the village that was quickly filling with the screams of the people.
“Let them die! A few dead are worth it. I can’t believe that is what you are worried about.”

    The walls weren’t flaking, the ceiling clear of strange leaks that ranged in colors and smells and his clothes, though big since they were his Mum’s, were comfortable. Before he was allowed into her tiny bed he did have to endure a rather rough bath, being scrubbed from head to toe quite a few times and then his hair had been cut back just long enough to tickle his ears. It was well worth it, being able to sleep in an actual bed instead of harsh concrete or blankets that smelled strongly of urine.
    Adrain’s new Mum had gone to take a shower before promising to join him but the water was still running when the first scream had echoed down the streets of Jessepin. At first the boy thought little of it but as soon as another joined, being cut off at it’s staccato, Adrain was rolling the duvet off his tiny form and stumbling towards the bathroom door. “Mum!”
She didn’t answer at first, the water clicking off and hurried pattering of soaked feet clambering to pull the door open. “Adrain, what was that?” His Mum was a plain thing, clinging to her towel with one hand as the other went to scoop the boy up and set him on her hip. “What was that noise?” The woman asked once more, not expecting the child to answer as she inched further into her room.
Wailing was constant now, a car horn ringing it’s shrill beeps to only add to the sound of shattering glass and a snapping that the boy hadn’t heard before. Adrain’s Mum began bouncing him, making noises meant to calm him but instead it only caused the boy’s curiosity to rise. The boy began to squirm, pushing at his mom’s ribs until her arm gave way.
He landed with a heavy thud, ignoring the shocked cry of his Mum’ and scrambled towards the window out. “Adrain!” The shattering of the window overrode the fear wound into his name but he wouldn’t have paid her any attention then anyways. He fell head over heels, scraping his right arm and much of his corresponding cheek before landing in a heap against the wall under the window seal.
The multitude of noises filtering through the shattered glass made his head throb like a little man was marching within, beating off his skull as it so chose. Before the glass had even settled upon the floor the amber street light melted away into a black mass, a stench tickling his nose. Adrain focused upon the denting of the wood above his head as gangly fingers gripped what remained of the window. Glass bit into its flesh, clumping albino fur and creating webike patterns of crimson along its entirety as it hauled itself to perch in the oversized hole.
“Adrain.” His Mum’ whispered, nearly doubled over as her attention flickered to whatever loomed over his head and then back to him. Above him the shadow adjusted, a snout as narrow and elongated as a shelties appearing in the shadow over Mum. Slowly it cocked it’s head to the side.
The woman gulped, sliding her feet back as she waved for him to join her. Adrain shook his head, pointing up to the thing looming just above him, coating him in blood and what he sure hoped wasn’t drool but smelt putrid enough to be a possibility.
“Adrain!” She snapped, her wrist popping from the force of her waving her hand. “Move before it notices you!” Her eyes grew wide, the shadow stilling as wood creaked on either side of his head and then the light was back, wafting over the area his Mum’ should have stood.
Instead he heard her wails joining the tens of others out in the street and then a sharp snap and he was forced to still his breath. Adrain kept his eyes downcast, hands clasped together in front of his knees to keep his legs curled to himself. It was once more silent aside from grunting that quickly lightened to a kitten like pur. It didn’t move for minutes, purring to itself as it waited. Adrain was just as persistent until he felt the too familiar tickle at the back of his sinuses. He tried lifting his head as if looking to the ceiling -the boy still too afraid to look upon what had splattered his mom on the wall- but within moments a shrill whoosh of air and a coating of snot on his arm and he was staring at the face of the thing.
Surprisingly it’s maw was stitched partially shut, the skin straining to keep the thick cord in place when it’s tongue lolled out. It’s malformed head, what may have once been wolfish but experimented upon, had hints of a fox like fusing, was twisted over a bony shoulder. He nearly giggled thinking the thing one of his nightmares that included mummies with the way it was haphazardly bandaged. The gauze didn’t drag behind the quadrupedal thing, most tied off in neat little bows. It’s eyes, or where Adrain guessed the things eyes to be, was covered by a thick layer of gauze but the bandage had long been stained yellow due to pus from infection.