3. Chapter Three #2
It means the wolf pelts won’t work to sell either, and the more I think on it, the more it would probably be unwise to even touch them.
The strange behavior might be the madness, though I’ve never heard of it transferring to animals.
I turn around and go back the way I came from, which should be a straight shot, but isn’t.
I wander, trying to keep to the lit portions. The murmurs follow me.
Don't look into his eyes.
I spin around to see who the voices might mean. "Who?"
Don't look into his eyes.
"That's not helpful when you don't explain who."
Don't cross the red line. Don't look into his eyes. Don't give in to the madness. A chorus of giggles shriek and then quiet.
"It seems maybe insanity has already taken me."
“What have you gotten yourself into?” The cloaked figure is back, almost blending in with the midnight of the forest. His words have random growls mixed in them.
“Who are you?”
“Someone you awakened.”
“Sorry. That was not my intent.”
He steps farther into the light, but I still can’t see anything under his hood. “It’s something you should apologize for.”
“I just did," I say.
“More than with only your words.”
I take a step to the right but reach for the dagger on my thigh. “I have no money, and if you’re thinking of something more physical, that’s not happening either.”
“The debt will be collected at a time I deem fit.”
“I don’t owe you anything!” Before the words can fully leave my mouth, he’s gone.
It takes me several hours to hike back to my village, and the murmurs repeat the same three sentences until it seems confirmed I'm no longer sane.
The afternoon sun warms the air, almost as though summer refuses to hand over rule to autumn.
The village is eerie, with not even a rustle.
While it is small in population, there are always people working and completing tasks.
Metallic clanging diverts my attention to the butcher shop.
The burly man with rusty hair and ruddy cheeks whips chains around like he wants to beat the air for disobedience.
His face contorts into a rabid smile, and his eyes are as onyx as a moonless sky.
The madness has captured him. The eyes are the one giveaway that it has taken hold, and it’s why I wasn’t sure about the wolves.
He charges, targeting me with his metal whip.
I duck as he barely misses putting a long indent in my face. “Abram! Stop!”
He swings again, striking me in the arm, and I take off running for the apothecary shop.
A woman stumbles down her porch steps, jerking with limbs twisting and popping into unnatural angles.
She hisses and crawls like a rigid spider at a speed much too swift for the position of her body.
She bares her teeth and cocks her head, revealing void eyes that glisten as though seeping with ebony blood.
She lunges to grab onto my leg, and I kick her away.
It motivates her to crawl faster, and I push myself past the burning in my chest. Villagers from all directions topple onto the streets with their bodies bending in peculiar directions.
Some crawl on their fingertips while others barrel forward much too fast for their shuddering gaits.
I slide into the apothecary shop, only opening it enough to squeeze through.
The door has three latches, and I use them all.
Thuds against the windows make me jump each time, and I walk backwards to see if they’ll bust through.
Ivelle is looking at the shelves behind the counter and most likely doing inventory as she does at least once a week to soothe her worry of running short on something.
“Everyone’s gone insane out there.”
A scrape and a sizzle crackle in the air, and Ivelle holds up a match much too close to the potent chemicals next to her.
The pounding becomes background as I inch toward her. “What are you doing?”
“This is all on you, you know.” Her voice is sharp and low like an old woman with creepy secrets she wants to tease me with. She turns with a vial of blue liquid in one hand and a small flame in the other.
“No.” I step back at the sight of her hollow eyes.
The beautiful browns and yellows no longer exist. She drops the match into the liquid and ignites everything around her.
My friend turns to ashes in seconds, and toxic gases consume the oxygen, leaving me to break a side window and tumble onto the ground.
All of Ivelle’s hard work is gone in the few minutes it takes me to run for the cover of the trees that grow directly behind her life’s dream.
There’s no time for grief to set in as I run toward my house, pleading with the wind spirits for the madness not to have reached my family.
My cabin door swings back and forth in the light breeze.
Elton stands next to our barn, still attached to the cart, and I purse my lips while trying not to stay angry at the spooked horse.