Hellbeast

9

1005 words

•———————•

Voices echoed around Horus's head. The whispers overlapped several times, ensuring him it was more than one person speaking. 'Save us.' 'Help us.' 'Free us.' 'Please.' He sat up, vertigo rushing forward to greet him. He groaned and clutched his head, rubbing his forehead in attempts to soothe the pain. A hand pushed a warm mug into him. He grabbed it and gulped down the contents. It was herbal, some kind of tea maybe? Sweetened with honey. Lord, how long had it been since he'd had honey.

Damen sat on the floor next to him, looking at him. To the untrained eye he looked stoic but Horus had learned how to read his expressions by now and his eyes shimmered with worry. He smiled crookedly and pushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "Don't worry. I'm okay. Bad dreams, we all have them." Except his weren't just dreams. He knew these voices were real. He could just feel it. They anguished with pain so raw, his eyes watered. Every time he slept, he felt their want to be free, their need to see more than just ashes and ruin. To see green grass and blue sky. To see him.

Damen patted his arm gently and Horus snapped out of his daze, sipping more of the tea slowly. He tilted his head back as if to say, 'tell me?' Horus contemplated. Why not? It'd been so long since he'd confided in someone other than himself or his dream friends, and who would Damen tell anyway? He heavily doubted Damen was a bounty hunter, the gentle giant was far too sweet for that. Horus leaned back against the headboard and let his thoughts stew.

"I have dreams. But they're not really dreams. Dreams are supposed to be an escape from reality, fun and stuff. Mine are more like glimpses of the future. They're usually not so bad, but lately they've gotten worse. Something's reaching out to me, I don't know what or who, but there's a lot of them. They want to be free. They believe I'm the only one that can lift their curse, whatever that means." Damen seemed to ponder this explanation, then shook his head. "Future?"

Horus shrugged, huddling up on the bed. Damen curled up on the sheets, gaining the courage to sit next to him. "It's small things. Like buying something you know you never have before, but somehow it feels familiar. It's not like I can predict when people die or stuff, I can't control it. It just happens." Damen spoke up. "You said they got darker?" Horus peered up in surprise. This was probably the longest sentence he'd heard him say the whole time they'd stayed together. "Yes. I keep seeing this particular scene. It's weird cause I've never had reoccurring dreams before. This one is just," he shivered, "terrifying."

"At first there's nothing, just a plain field. Just grass. No life. Then I blink and there's a battlefield surrounding me. Dead soldiers and civilians everywhere, blood, everywhere. It's horrific. Obviously a war happens, between all the kingdoms, but I don't know why or how to stop it. Then the voices started. When I sleep, they tell me the only way to stop it is to free them. And I don't want to, but it's like I can't control it? I just feel a pull. Towards the ancient ruins. I know they're restricted but," he paused, eyes watering, "it hurts. I get sick when I get too far away."

For a count of two very long minutes, Damen is silent. Just when Horus feels like he's about to burst into tears because he thinks he won't believe him, he finally does. "Does it hurt now?" Horus nodded. "It always does. I don't think it'll stop until I finally go. But I can't." The shifter shrugged. "Why not?" Horus looked up, bewildered. "You're telling me to go even with all the rumors and stuff? I'll die! And witches still roam around there, they'll kill me for sure. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm lacking in the magical aspect of anything."

Damen crossed his legs, staring at the bedsheets in thought before looking up at him. "That's not the only reason. What else." Bounty hunters lived all along the edges of the ruins, surrounding all entry points, but never daring to go in. A blockade, all intent with keeping him out and capturing him, taking him to hell knows where. Did Damen know? Did he know Horus was being hunted? His blood chilled and he stared into the predatory gaze, at a loss for words.

"What are you avoiding." Horus swallowed thickly, lips quivering. Damen stared at him expectantly, waiting for a logical response. How could Horus break it to him? 'Hey you're harboring the son of a ex-murderous ex-lunatic.' Or maybe, 'Bounty hunters want to haul my ass to hell knows where probably to sacrifice me to my deadbeat dad.' Instead of actually replying, he just stared back. Damen blinked, long lashes fluttering, green eyes waiting. "Bad people."

The shifter's brows furrowed. "Bad people?" He echoed, sounding slightly confused. Horus nodded dumbly and looked down at the steam curling out of his cup. "Who." He wasn't asking. he was demanding a response. And if Horus didn't know any better he'd say Damen sounded angry. But why would he be? It's not like they were close like that. Denial flooded his body to prevent a blush. He whispered, "Hunters." Damen scowled.

•———————•

Hunters had been roaming around his mountains for a while now, apparently looking for something. Now Damen knew it was a someone. But what did they want from this boy? One he found half dead covered in snow? He couldn't sense any magical essence emanating from him, and even if he was using some kind of enchantment or magical item to hide his magic, Damen would've been able to smell right through it. So why the hell would they be after this practically human boy?