the series of r/nosleep | volume one: the {smile} series

{V}ictim

"A dragon with two heads will only survive if one bites the throat of the other." I wipe a crusted knife against my pant leg. "Does that make sense?"

His eyes go wide. Sweat drips around the creases in his nose and soaks into the rag. He mumbles something.

"Of course not," I say. "It's a ridiculous saying. And the logic itself doesn't make a lick of sense. First off, dragons aren't real, and secondly wouldn't the dragon eventually bleed out?" I let out a big belly laugh that echoes off the walls of the small room.

He tilts his head in a shaky nod, the storm continues to blatter against the windows.

"I'm going to tell you a story." I appraise the knife in weak lamplight and return it to the center of the circle. "Two people, we'll call them brothers for lack of a better term, and being that their bond with each other came only from their differences with every other person in this world, brothers is what they will be. Two people, two brothers, against a world of ... ," I step towards him and he flinches. I smile. "See, brothers of blood can be broken. The world runs on blood. Blood can be replaced; corrupted. But brothers of destiny..."

He shakes his head.

"Too cliché?" I ask. "I know." Beside me a small grey urn with red inscriptions sits atop a wooden pedestal and a sprig of lavender. I pick up the urn and place a bit of the flower in my mouth. After carefully chewing for a moment I remove half the wad and place it in the ash. "The story!" I shout. He jumps in the chair. I begin sprinkling the ash and mashed flower in a wide circle around his chair. "You must stop me if I get on a tangent again." I wink like I see them do in the movies, but it doesn't feel right on my face. "Two travelers converge on a path. One has fallen from his perch atop the highest of mountains, and the other has clawed his way up from the deepest of caves. They stand, bereft of knowledge, naked to the blazing sun, and thoroughly lost in both the physical and spiritual sense." The urn runs dry so I replace the top and place it back on the pedestal. A long piece of white chalk is retrieved from a leather case, and I begin inscribing the floor and walls.

"The traveler from the mountains says 'Brother, are we alone on this earth?', to which the other replies, 'Nay, fellow. For such a sun would shine on more than just us.' So they agree to walk, hand in hand, until they arrive back at that spot from which they started in the hopes of searching out others in this great land." The man is openly weeping now. I use the back of my hand to dry the tears. He recoils from my touch.

"After years of walking the skin has fallen away from their feet, the sun has burned their arms and backs to winged leather, and the wind has pushed all pigment away until they are white monsters floating above the earth. The traveler from the caves says, 'Brother, maybe I was wrong. It seems we are alone', to which the other replies, 'Nay, fellow. For up ahead I hear the laughter of children and the cries of the newborn.' So they continued to walk towards the sounds."

A red puddle is forming beneath the man's chair. His face is slack against the rag. I continue to draw.

"The two travelers, brothers now more than ever, float over a hill and approach a camp of people. They are greeted by a set of boys whose features look like reflections in the stillest of waters. The traveler from the mountains says, 'Children, will you not welcome us into your homes, for we have walked the entirety of the earth just to find you,' to which the boys reply, 'Nay, monsters. For you are not like us, you do not share our blood. Be gone and rot within the earth on top of which you now float.' And the children walked hand in hand back to their camp laughing and singing their songs."

I remove the rag from his mouth. His jaw sags open and clotted blood clings to a lolling tongue. Wild eyes dance beneath the covers of resting lids.

"Insulted and left to die in their frail withering husks, the two brothers turn away from the camp. The traveler from the caves says, 'We should let them be, for they are only temporary just like us. Some day they will be replaced with kinder souls,' to which the other replies, 'Nay, daeva. They are not deserving of this place. We are heirs to this world and shall enjoy it for them. Each time our body rots we shall remember this day.' And the two brothers turned back to take what was owed."

With the damp rag I wipe his mouth and chin. The crimson pool spreads into the carved trenches that circle the chair and cap in five triangles. White chalk soaks up the liquid and creates a wall of solid symbols. I crouch over him, the stranger, the brother, and push his lids up with my thumbs.

"Do you understand now?" I whisper eagerly.

A brown iris and a blue one swim in milky panic and then, as the last bit of life flows away, they roll up into the back of his skull. I lean over and kiss his forehead.

"Come home, brother," I say, using my thumbs now to spread his mouth into a smile. "A new vessel awaits."