Oren shot up in bed, drenched in sweat. He felt as though he were being boiled alive, and he struggled to catch his breath. His whole body shook as he finally took a deep breath. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he pressed his knees to his chest.
Nearly every night had become the same, and he had grown tired of reliving traumatic events in his sleep. There was no rest for him; every morning he woke and felt just as exhausted as he had the night before. Except for in the cave, that is. While he was unsure what was different that night, he was grateful to have gotten any real sleep. It was the first time he woke and felt rested in many months.
Perhaps it was in the brief burst of euphoria that he decided they should head toward the capital city, Foras, to continue their search for Astaria's brother. He would have liked to say there would be no other reason to risk such a trip to the city, but he knew that was not entirely true. Oren knew all too well what groups lurked in the dark, damp allies and whispered in the shadows. He also knew what resources they would gain access to, as well.
As his breathing slowed, he realized how quiet the night was. It was in that eerie silence that he knew something was scurrying about. It was thanks to this silence that he could hear the stairs groan faintly and a squeaky floorboard call out.
Then he heard it. He heard the dark, guttural growl echo down the hall. It was as though it were meant to intimidate. “Stay back,” the sound warned anyone awake at such a late hour. But he had no intention of listening to it. He swept his legs off the bed, quietly placing them on the floor. Snatching up the dagger that he had left on the nightstand, he crept over to his door and placed his ear to it. The sound rumbled through the hallway just on the other side, and the soft sound of footsteps sneaking through stopped only a few feet away.
Oren’s heart dropped when he realized where it had stopped. A mere few feet away, Asteria slept in the room just by his. Anxiety crept through him, and he resisted the urge to rush out and put himself in the path of unnecessary harm. He heard the scratching noise first, followed by a bump. The door was resisting the creature, refusing it entry.
‘Good,’ he thought, a small breath of relief escaping him. ‘She remembered to put whatever she could in front for extra security.’ Surprisingly, he found himself to be a little proud of her at that moment, but he quickly pushed that away and refocused on what he could hear in the hallway.
The bumps hastily became thuds. The beast had begun slamming its full weight into the old, wooden door. He could hear the familiar sound of splintering wood, and his stomach wriggled and squirmed in worry. Then there it was: the sound of crashing and a piercing scream. He threw the nightstand aside, rushing to unlock his own door. With great force, he pulled the door open and ran into the hall.
His feet slammed against the rough floor, and he scolded himself for not keeping his boots on. Moonlight flooded the hall from Asteria’s opened door. There was shuffling, growling, rumbling erupting from the room, and he blindly dove in. Their eyes instantly met, and he thought he saw a flash of relief when she spotted him.
She was on her back, blade raised out in front of her with both hands. One hand was firmly wrapped around the handle, and the other was bracing the blunt end of the dagger. Yet the man above her was biting down on the cool steel with such force, it sent chills up Oren’s spine.
It was the barkeep, his jaw extended with vicious fangs protruding outward. The sight was nauseating; he was a rancid-looking beast. In the dim lighting, it appeared as though his flesh was sagging from his bones, spots of decay patterning his exposed skin. Without a second thought, Oren grabbed onto the man’s shoulders and pulled hard. He ripped him away from Asteria and braced himself in front of her. A whimper escaped her, and he glanced back to see her gripping the hand that had been bracing the blade against the creature’s mouth full of fangs. He did not have time, however, to assess her wound.
He focused back on the beast, shuffling on the floor in front of them on all fours. Its elbows and knees were bent at bizarre, unnatural angles. Instantly, he felt sick. It scurried across the small room, scaling the wall like a spider. He felt the bile rise in his throat, and he forced himself to swallow it back down.
Asteria had climbed off her bed and found her way to his side. While he could tell she was shaking in fear, he was impressed with her determination. The beast let out a sound, much like the shriek of a wounded mountain lion. It rushed along the ceiling, fleeing the room. The two of them watched in horror as it receded into the darkness of the tavern below.
“Oren?” Her voice was gentle, getting his attention. He looked back at her. Scrunched up in disgust, he could already tell what she was wondering and wanting to ask.
“I don’t know,” he quickly answered. “I don’t know what that thing was. I mean, it was obviously the barkeep, right? But beyond that…” As his voice trailed off, he shrugged. He had a few theories as to what the beast could be, but he didn’t like to take guesses.
“Right…” Asteria whispered. “And what exactly should we be doing? Because - no offense- I am not thrilled at the idea of following you down into the darkness after that thing.”
It was hard not to let out a small laugh, and he gave her an amused smile. Oren could not blame her, of course. He didn’t want to go after that creature in the darkness. Still, he knew that he needed to. There were people too afraid to leave their homes, locals going missing, and patrons being drugged for some mysterious purpose; he knew he had to do something.
He took a step forward, slow and deliberate with his movement. The stairs were completely dark, but he could see a form shuffling around in those shadows. How he was to face this thing in the darkness, he had no idea. Then his face lit up, and he turned to Asteria.
“Can you go into my room and grab the Sun Stone from my bag?” He requested, and she nodded immediately. She moved with great haste, dashing into his room and only returning when she had the warm, glowing orb in hand.
Its warmth was soothing as he took it from her, and he felt a small burst of courage in his chest. He took another step, then another, and before he knew it he was at the top of the stairs. His eyes examined the now dimly lit ground floor below. A knot formed in his gut, and the anticipation was threatening to make him sick. In the upper right corner of the door frame, he swore he saw something briefly. It looked as though it were hair, sticking out just beyond the edge. There was a sliver of skin visible from where he stood, and he prayed for good aim.
With the Sun Stone in one hand and the dagger in his other, he crouched into stance. He extended out his throwing arm behind him, lightly gripping the dagger. A pair of eyes burned holes into his back; Asteria watched him curiously. Whipping his arm forward, he let go of the blade and listened to it screech through the air.
A monstrous, ear-piercing scream echoed from the floor below. Oren watched in a mix of terror and disgust as the beast nearly dropped out of its hiding spot, limping toward the door. He felt a flicker of pride when he noticed that the blade found a home in the skull of the monster. The feeling was pushed aside, and he wondered if it was the time to feel so sure of himself.
It continued to wail and shriek as it clawed its way forward, nails digging into the wood flooring. He sped down the stairs when he noticed its shaking hand reaching up for the door handle. As it laid before him- weak and dying- he felt far less afraid than he had before. His foot pressed into the creature’s back, pushing it down onto the floor in front of him. Delicate footsteps sounded behind him, and Asteria soon joined his side.
Turning back to face her, he extended his hand and asked, “May I borrow your blade please?” She could hardly keep her hand still as she handed it over. Her fingertips softly grazed his palm while handing over her dagger. It took him a brief moment to refocus from her touch back to the matter at hand, but then he noticed the thin red streaks that she had left behind. His eyes wandered back up the stairs, and on each step was a trail of droplets. Her gaze followed his, and she clenched the wounded hand into a tight fist.
Oren knelt down next to the creature, placing the Sun Stone on the ground next to them. With his left hand, he pushed away the hair from the creature’s neck, and with the other, he positioned the cool, sharp steel at the base of it. There was a sickening squelch, and he looked away when retracting the blade. He wiped it clean on the fabric of the beast’s shirt and handed it back to her. She was hesitant to take it back, looking at it with disgust. Yet, her fingers wrapped around its handle and she sheathed it at her side. He watched as she turned away, looking abnormally pale - even for her.
When he reached for its face, he started to feel nauseous. However, he needed to look it over and see what they were dealing with. The fangs were still protruding out from behind its lips. They were jagged and jutting out in all directions, clearly not a vampyre. Though, the fact that its limbs snapped back at horrifying angles also helped clear that from the list of possibilities. It also told him it wasn’t some sort of werebeast. He still checked for any obvious signs of excessive hair just in case, finding none. He relayed all of the assessments he had made to Asteria, who tried to work with him through gritted teeth and a hand clasped over her mouth.
“I think I would have to say…” Oren’s words were slow, drawn out as he theorized. “Perhaps it was a changeling? But then again, my expertise on this specifically is limited and only gained from books. I’m just guessing based off the devastating appetite it seems to have had. However, maybe it could have been…” His voice trailed off, and he stood. Unable to stop himself, he began to pace and lost himself to his thoughts.
Trying to recall everything he had read over the last few years regarding monsters and their habits, he couldn’t recall reading much in regards to Hellspawn. There had been small tidbits on them in books, naturally, but he was never able to learn anything in depth. Then he wondered if there was a connection to the cult that his companion had been trying to track down.
“Could have been what?” The question came out muffled, and he looked up to notice how sickly she began to look.
He picked up the Sun Stone, once again welcoming its soothing warmth. Gently grabbing her arm, he led Asteria away from the gory scene and sat her at a nearby table in the now empty tavern. He had not realized it, but a part of him was deeply worried that they were going to return and find the same few locals sitting in their spots with their eyes still glazed over.
Shaking off the uncomfortable thought and the imaginary foggy eyed stares, he crouched next Asteria. His fingers wrapped around hers for a brief moment, opening her hand and placing the orb in her palm. Oren gestured for her to give him her other hand, the one with that had propped the blade up when she was fighting the monster off. There was a thin cut clear across the palm of her left hand. As he examined the wound, she winced and let out a hushed hiss.
“Luckily,” he said calmly. “It’s really not that deep. Clearly, it will hurt for a little while, but it isn’t as bad as it could have been.”
Gently shifting her hand in his, he checked for any other cuts, scrapes, or - Gods forbid- puncture wounds. There were no other wounds, and he felt satisfied with the swift look over. While he did not know exactly what it was that they had just fought off, he did not like the idea of the risk of exposure or infection if it were something of similar nature to a vampyre or werebeast.
Oren stood back up and returned to the creature lying between the foot of the stairs and the front door. He stared at it for a long while, contemplating what to do next. While he would love nothing more than to pack their things and leave in the dark, the tavern engulfed in fire behind them, he knew that it would leave the locals with more questions and fear. The villagers had been living in fear for days, people being swept away in the night. They deserved to have some semblance of closure, and perhaps seeing that this is the cause would bring them that.
‘At least there won’t be much clean up,’ he thought, observing what little blood had seeped from the wounds on the beast. There were a few droplets on the floor beneath it, minuscule pools of black beneath the trails of dark blood that trailed out of the gash on the back of its neck and forehead. He looked down at it in disgust before turning back to the tavern’s vast emptiness. It felt eerie at this hour and sent a shiver through him. Yet, at its center was the orb of warm light and the woman he found himself desperate to protect only minutes prior.
He returned to the table where Asteria sat, joining her. While he had been examining the monstrosity once more, she had rested her head on crossed arms against the table. In one hand, she clung to the Sun Stone, and the other gripped her dagger tightly. Oren leaned back in his seat, watching her rest. She needed her rest, and he wouldn’t let anything interrupt her sleep again.
And so he sat at that table, watching the sun creep above the horizon and peek out from beyond the valley’s hilltops in the distance.
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