Fantasy: The Beginning of the End

Fantasy: The Beginning of the End - Z. Smith - Part One: The End - Chapter 4

Leaves crunched under thundering footfalls, and the chill of winter clawed at my skin. My chest burned with the stinging pricks of a thousand needles, and my heart hammered frantically—whether from the adrenaline coursing through my veins or the sheer terror of the moment, I could not say for certain. In the pale light of the full moon above, I could clearly see the telling signs of a recent path, even in the gloom of the forest. Twigs and branches snapped. Grass torn and crushed. Ink-like blotches spattered at random, and to whom they belonged I dared not guess.

Somewhere, not far away, rose a horrid sound. The piercing cry of anguished dread tore through the leaves and branches, and just like the chill of the wind, the scream fell as soon as it began. Cut short by

him

I stopped dead in my tracks, wanting to breathe but the air catching in my chest. I was no longer sure if my heart was beating. My body ached to the bone and taking another step would lead to something I could not walk away from. But I could not be sure, could I? I could never guess the end until I experienced it firsthand. Not until I saw with my own eyes.

not your eyes

A shadow fell across the moon. I looked up into the starry sky to witness the blackness above consume what little light remained. One by one, the stars burnt out, and all that was left were ashy husks floating in the void. To my horror, claws extended outward from the dark side of the moon. Silvery claws which eclipsed that pale light and smothered it into nothing until, at last, I was left in the shadows.

And from the shadows, a voice rose. A familiar voice I had heard before. One which lurked in the darkness until revealing itself as the faintest refraction of whatever light remained.

"Finn?"

I spoke with my own voice, quivering and hollow in the gloom. At first there was only silence in response, but then I heard it: A long, rattling exhale of breath. The sound seemed metallic somehow, as if the wind were blown through the faintest of slivers in hard steel. I felt the warmth of that same breath all around me, and I blindly and frantically searched the darkness for any sign of the mysterious visitor. It was not until I opened my own mouth and spoke words not my own in a voice not my own that I realized the breath was my own, trapped in a suffocating, dark space.

blaise

wake up

The frigid night air tore down my throat as I jerked upright from the dampened bed roll beneath me. Shattered from what passed for sleep, I sat there heaving in gallons of the crisp, winter wind as if I had actually run through the forest in my dream. My arms and legs even ached! What was happening to me? No dream, no matter how surreal, could affect the body as if the events therein had occurred.

"You okay?"

I could not help but jump as Darius touched my shoulder, and I attempted to stifle the sudden irritation I felt toward my concerned friend. "Yeah, I'm fine, Darius. Just another bad dream."

"You've been having those pretty often," Darius commented dryly, though I knew he would not have said anything if he were not worried.

"It's probably stress from the mission," I guessed with a sigh, though I did not believe my words. Nothing of any particular significance had occurred so far to cause undue strain; even the weather was more tolerable, despite the ever-present frost of winter. "Well, I guess I'm awake now, Darius. Why don't you get some rest and I can play lookout?"