The Family Curse (Cursed Wanderers Series: Book 1)

Chapter 13 - The Invasion of Subconscious

Chapter 13

The Invasion of Subconscious

 

“SO, ARE YOU GOING to tell your cool grandpa what’s going on?” Semyon asked me walking into the library where I was buried under books trying to find ways to kill a dream invading scum. My father was still out dealing with the tree thing, whatever it was. I realized I probably had been glaring at everyone and everything during dinner because I was mentally preparing for my dream-fight. I was going to kick ass and then some. Don’t mess with a paranoiac court ordered anger management juvie kid.

I played dumb. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” Semyon sighed, “you haven’t been your usual smartass lately and you had the face of someone who got slapped hard last night. Did your pimp found you and decided to show you that his hand was still strong?”

In other circumstances, I would have laughed. “I’m dealing with it, don’t worry. Tomorrow I’ll probably be all cheering and annoying again.”

Semyon nodded once, though he didn’t seem exactly convinced. “Good.”

I changed subject. “How do you kill a suprahuman? An Essence one.” From what I had gathered from Hugo and the books I had looked tonight, mind tricks usually came from Essence feeding suprahuman, so it was only natural to assume whoever was messing with my dreams was in fact fuelled by Essence rather than Flesh.

“Say that again,” grandfather dearest all but squealed.

“What would kill an Essence eating suprahuman?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Eager to join the family business?”

“If I have to hunt down evil, I should know how to kill them,” I pointed out the obvious, leaving out the real pressing reason.

“You’re right.” He nodded, giving it to me. “And well, the specifics change, but generally, Essence ones are killed with silver and Flesh ones with wood. Not the ones in guy pants, I mean, like from trees.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I got that.” So silver. That was easy enough to find. “Well thanks.” I closed the book I had been reading and go up. “I should go to sleep soon.”

“Huh, not to sound like a bad parenting figure but it’s like eight.” Semyon informed me. I didn’t really care about the time though. I only cared about taking care of my little problem.

“I need my beauty sleep,” I waved the matter away.

“You’re not that ugly.”

I glared at him. “You’re an awful grandfather.”

He grinned at me. “I’m fantastic.”

“Good night grandpa,” I patted his arm as I passed.

“You’re weird kid,” he called after me, not following.

“I know,” I called back.

After that, I got a knife from the kitchen’s silverware and went to bed immediately after. The sky had cleared out so I could see the stars but I was already so exhausted that it really didn’t take me that long to fall asleep.

The moment I realized I was dreaming, and the same eerie presence was there again, I screamed, “SHOW YOUR FACE BITCH!”

I started kicking the nearest tree. I was still holding the silver knife in my hand—somehow it had transcended into the dream, like I had hoped—so I tried stabbing it too. “You’re messing with the wroooong bitch! I’m from Detroit! I’ll fuck your face up!”