The Endowment of the Red-Eyed Demon

Chapter 7

It wasn't until the next day that I finally awoke, quite suddenly and extremely confused as to where I was. I was still dressed in my shirt and trousers from the day before, though my cravat was untied, and my waistcoat unbuttoned. My muscles were sore, and every move felt like there were stones attached to my limbs. I felt so nauseated that I was sure I would be sick, even though I could not remember the last time I had eaten.

None of my thoughts seemed to be able to sort themselves out. All I could sort out was the surge of fear that I felt. It made my heart beat so intensely that I was sure it would come right out of my chest.

Still, my mother did not show any fear, even though she was perched in a chair by my bedside. She was calm, there was only a touch of concern on her face. When she spoke, I could not sense that she was anything aside from her usual cold self.

"Hello, Huxley. Are you finally awake again?"

"Where am I?" I asked, my voice sore.

"You're in your room," She said, and I felt some relief thinking we were perhaps in our real home. But then she added to her statement, "Your room in Skhizein Hall, that is."

Disappointment crashed upon me like a giant wave, "When are we going back? Has the postman come with my horses? Did I sleep until Monday?"

"We're not going back for some days, Huxley. I'm afraid you did not sleep that long. Yesterday was Tuesday, and today is only Wednesday. No horses have come for you."

I pushed myself onto my elbows, sitting up straight in bed. Now that I was able to see the entire room, I could see what else was in there with me. Straight ahead, sitting at the other end of the room, was a man. Though, he did not look like a man. I did not know what he looked like. He was half shrouded by the shadows; I could barely see him. All I could see was the silhouette of his body, but I could not see what he was wearing or even the mouth on his face. But I could see his eyes. They were glowing as they stared at me, a bright red. It was as if someone had crafted a man out of shadows and polished two rubies for eyes.

My mother began to speak, but I held a staring contest with the shadowy figure, "Really, Huxley, you're only making me more ill. I came here to rest, but I've only gotten worse since I've come here. I'm always fussing over you, that's why. Does it make you happy to see me so? Does watching me become more ill give you some sort of glee? I suppose it does. Watch me keel over and you can be out of here before my body is even cold. Is that what you want?"

"No, mother," I said, my voice slow, waiting to see if the shadow man would do something, "Trust, if I haven't escaped you yet, then I'd hardly resort to killing you."

I stared at the man, and he stared back. My heart beat faster and faster, alarm rose in me, making me feel as though it were about to spew out, like lava from a volcano.

"Mother, do you –"

"Oh, hush, Huxley!" She spat, fussing with my blankets, "You need rest. If you have something to say, you can say it while you close your eyes and doze off."

She pushed me back, breaking my eye contact with the man. I scrambled to sit back up, determined to see what that man was to do. But my brief break in contact was too long. When I sat back up, he was gone. The sun hit the wall where he had been, and I could not tell where he was now.

"He's gone," I whispered to myself.

My mother barely caught what I had said, but I had no time for her questions. I got out of bed, searching for the man. The door was closed, I would've heard it open or shut or something if he had gone that way. The only other way out was the window. I knew he must've gone out that way. There was no where else for him to go.