Ravenville

by crisisT47

Every year, Vince visits his grandfather at his residence of Nacht Valley. Although strange and mysterious, Vince always has an adventure in one of the strange vistas the valley has to offer. However, when he decides to visit Ravenville, he instantly regrets it. (This is an original short story by me)

Something I always find interesting whenever I come down to Nacht Valley for Fall Break is the fact that Gramps rearranges all of the things he's collected over the years. Every year its another hunt to find his jar of orc teeth, his spools of unicorn hair, or his prized wyvern wing. I was shocked this year to see that he had something new mounted upon his wall. It was that kind of shock where you want to be amazed but vomit at the same time.

"Gramps, where'd you find this?" I asked, pointing at the gruesome artifact.

"Oh, the werewolf head?" His laugh was genuine, but tinged with the fear of its memory. "That bastard was running rampant in this neck of the woods yesterday. The gnomes and I subdued it, though. I got the head, they got the pelt, and the rest is history. Heh, too bad for the Evil Faction."

It'd be an understatement to say that Gramps was weird. As far as I knew, he was the only human being to ever reside in a place where the magic of what others consider fantasy existed. Furthermore, he's the only human I know who has the guts to put up with what occurs in this place on a daily basis. Staying here for only five days can unnerve me to a breaking point sometimes. But something draws me back every year. The real world can just get so boring sometimes. It must be this same boredom, with a smidge of courage, that Gramps is able actually live here.

To see everything in Gramps' collection in one viewing would be impossible. This room was easily the biggest in his humble, little ranch style home. Well, I would say humble if this room wasn't the size of a small cottage itself. It is his basement, but it could honestly be turned into a World War I bunker. Shelves beyond the eyes can see, plenty of tables and counters for Gramps to do his "experiments," there's even a refrigerator he keeps stocked down here in case he forgets to go upstairs to eat. He even

I was about to sit down at the table he was sitting at doing one of these aforementioned experiments when he noticed me and said, "Before you plop, could you grab me some unicorn parts? Preferably the hair and horns. Grab me a crucible, too."

"What for?" I looked at the things he was already tinkering with: some bright crimson feathers and some fire of the same color in a jar.

"I recently got these Phoenix feathers and embers donated to me by someone across the country." His demanding eyes shot through mine. "Come on, you know me! Don't keep me and my unicorn parts separated!"

"Well, I'd hate to keep you waiting, your majesty," I retorted. We exchanged smirks.

Going back to his shelves, I took a step back to have a more macro look at everything. If I hadn't been coming here for almost ten years now, I would say that Gramps is definitely looney. Some of the stories he shares about how he got some of these items are able to make anyone lose their lunch in an instant. Gramps is a hunter of sorts; he hunts those of the Evil Faction, rather the creatures and people that intend to do harm to those not affiliated with them. He, as a part of the Justice Faction, helps to fight against him. However, he always takes it a step further by salvaging materials from his victories, which can range anywhere from bat wings to whole mermaid tails. I can't help but shudder at the thought of what he had to go through for some of the others I'm already too grossed out to mention.

"Vince!" I heard Gramps shout again. "Stop daydreaming! Unicorn hairs!"

I rolled the ladder over to where the bank of unicorn parts were. "Alright, okay! I'm coming." I took two spools of the wispy, thread-like hair and two jars of unicorn horns. Taking a slight detour, I also grabbed the crucible he needed.
I sat at the messy table where he was doing his business as usual and sprawled all of his required materials on top of all the things already there. "Thanks, kiddo." He went straight to work. It seemed like he had no idea what he was doing, but I still watched intently as he began to wrap one of the feathers in the hair. In the crucible, he promptly added a small piece of horn and ground it to a powder. He then mixed in some of the flames and stirred the two substances together, not even minding the small splashes hopping out here and there on his arms and workspace. The paste that formed was golden yellow in color. Cautiously, Gramps lowered the hair-bound feather into the substance, and I braced for some kind of explosion. Those were more common than one would think.

Gramps let go of the feather and let it sink into the paste on its own. "Vince, get back," he ordered. Even he was distancing himself from the concoction. What happened next baffled both of us.

The feather melted instantly after a few seconds of dabbling in the pool of the crucible. Glowing brightly, I thought I could see tiny limbs forming. In just a few seconds, a tiny, winged woman began to flutter out, stretching and yawning.

"Pixie!" Gramps frantically shouted. In the blink of an eye, he ran to the table and clapped his hands on the small woman's body as if she were a pesky mosquito and mangled her beyond recognition.

"You killed her!" I screamed.

"You know how dangerous pixies can get, kiddo!" Gramps pinched the foot of the pixie and dangled geher from high up. "Either way, you're right. She had a good few seconds of life."

"I mean…I guess you now know how to make homemade pixie dust, then."

"Perhaps. I'd need to test it, first."

I peered into the crucible to see the droplets that didn't get the privilege of life alongside the now crushed pixie. "What do you think caused all that to give life?"

Gramps scratched his chin. "Well, obviously, the Phoenix feather and wing had the life-giving properties. But I'm not sure as to why the unicorn parts made a pixie, of all things." The limp body was placed in the crucible and Gramps began to grind it down. "I mean, free pixie dust, as you said. I'll need Gruntel to help me figure out this mystery, though."

From upstairs, I heard the ringing of the door. "Speaking of which," Gramps continued, "I invited her and Alvis over for dinner tonight. Let's head up."

"Aren't you going to clean up the table?" I asked, watching him lazily toss the crucible on it.

"Eh, I'll clean it later." He headed for the stairs and I followed him.

"You always say that and you never do."

"Tidiness is for people who don't know how to experiment." For whatever reason, we both laughed.

Gramps and I climbed up the stairs. He swung open the hatch to the upper floor and climbed out, and I followed. "Hey, there's the old man!" I could hear someone squawk from above.

"Alvis!" As Gramps went up for a handshake, I couldn't help but flinch a little. I hated it, too, since I knew who it was and have been seeing him for the last decade now.

"How are you, Oswald?" Alvis retracted his hand, rather, his claw and continued, "I heard you and the gnomes took down that werewolf. How'd that go?"

"It put up a fight, but those gnomes were a big help. They're fierce, the little guys. In the end we each got what we wanted."

"You serious?" Alvis' piercing eyes hooked onto me as I crept slowly back down the stairs. "Speaking of little ones, yours seems to be escaping."

Gramps sighed. He didn't turn around, but he reached his hand behind his back. "Come on, Vince. He's only half bird. That means you can be half afraid this time, right?" Gramps finally turned his head. I didn't want to look at him; I could feel the heat of the red on my cheeks. Damnit, why am I so afraid of birds?! And Alvis isn't even a bird, he's just a griffin!

Vince, he's half lion, too, I thought to myself. I love cats! I have one back at home, and lions are just big cats. With a deep breath, I brought myself to meet with Alvis face to face. I could feel my heart thumping, and my hands trickled with sweat.

"H-Hi, Alvis." With as much courage I could muster, I kept looking the eagle-headed creature in his powerful stare.

Alvis' smile was warm, apologetic. "Hey, Vince. Sorry for the startle."

"No, no. It's fine!" Just standing in his presence for so long was enough to calm me down just a little. "It's okay, I can adapt." As an added bonus, at least he was familiar.

I may have jinxed myself just a bit there as I jumped again from the ringing of the door, but I immediately recognized the dark cloak and green skin.

"Oswald," the woman said in a sniveling tone, "I could smell dead werewolf ten feet away from your house. You're gonna scare away your customers!"

"Tough luck, Gruntel," Gramps said. "That's what we're eating for dinner."

Upon hearing this, our heads turned to see that his face was stone-cold and serious. Alvis and I sat dumbfounded, but Gruntel cackled a bit. "At this rate, I don't think I can help you in research anymore!"

"Humor me," Gramps said. "Vince and I just discovered that unicorn and Phoenix parts combined make pixies."

"Seriously?!" The witch's eyes grew wider than a full moon. "Wow, you seem to outdo yourself almost every other weekend!"

"Well, let's see if I can outdo my cooking skills for you all tonight."

After standing around for just a while, I could finally smell what Gruntel was talking about. The stench of the werewolf meat was creeping its way into my nose and stinging me on the inside, turning my gut inside-out. "Gramps, are you sure werewolf is safe to eat?" I don't think he heard me, though, as he was already a few paces into the next room, the kitchen, to prepare the meal.

Alvis mumbled over to me, "Trust me, its safe. A delicacy, but safe."

Ultimately, I decided to push away the thought and let Gramps do his thing. You wouldn't think it, but being such a superb experimenter made him a surprisingly good cook. Unless completely incompatible, any ingredients he throws together usually comes up at least half-decent. While he and Alvis chatted about future hunts and such, I was left with Gruntel, and I was rather excited to catch up with her. After all, I only got to see her once a year.

As I approached her, she noticed me and smiled. "Ah, if it isn't the little human that braves our little corner of the world every year! I pray the journey wasn't too arduous this time?"

"Well, I'd have to say that what's been happening here has been more eventful than the ride here," I chuckled. "We haven't even looked at the map to figure out where our next adventure would be."

Gruntel raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrunk back a little, knowing what she was about to say. "Why not go to-"

"Ravenville?" I interrupted. "No chance."

"Oh, come on, Vince!" Gruntel gave me a playful punch on the shoulder. "You're 16, aren't you? Surely you've outgrown this ornithophobia your grandfather keeps tossing back and forth? You and Alvis can speak to each other now!"

"Barely."

Rolling her eyes, Gruntel continued to press on me despite my fears. "Oh, please. Ravenville isn't even that bird-ridden! It just gets the name from being in a darker part of the valley."

I felt torn. On one hand, a town with the name of Ravenville was enough to make a person like me run away and hide under my bed covers. A town named after a bird is not a place for a person who is afraid of birds, such as myself, obviously. But Gruntel has been recommending Ravenville for years now. If it truly was just a sick joke, she would have said it one time and be done. I can't believe I'm considering this…

"Well, what do you say?" For a witch, Gruntel was quite convincing with the baby-doll eyes act. "Do it for auntie Gruntel?"

Avoiding eye contact, I sighed. I postponed it for long enough. It still took me a few seconds to shake out any second guesses, but I said it. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Finally!" she cheered. "It took you long enough."

"If anything happens to me or Gramps there, I'm blaming you."

"Fair enough." She reached to pinch my cheeks. "Let's go eat, dearie."

There was no way I could bring this up in front of Gramps with her or Alvis here. They may not be involved, but I didn't want any further input from either of them. Every Nacht Valley town was an adventure, and I'm sure Ravenville will be no different. Yes, my decision was final. Ravenville was in my sights, and I wasn't going to back out now.

"So you're sure you're wanting to go there? Vince, we can always turn back and pick somewhere else."

"Gramps, we've only been on the road for five minutes and you've already asked that like six times."

"I just like hearing you say the word 'no,' that's all."

Now that I was thinking about it, Gramps was acting very antsy, even worse than he usually gets in the basement. After last night's dinner, and once Gruntel and Alvis left, I told him where I wanted to go for the annual expedition. The image of his concerned look is still burned into my brain. The sound of me saying "I want to go to Ravenville" really troubled him, and the gears in my head have been turning ever since to figure out why. I mean, with a name like Ravenville, it's sort of obvious. Who knew what other dangers would lie before us?

The drive was awkwardly silent. I spent most of the time gawking at the swirling purplish-blues of the sky and the dry yellows of the grass and trees. It wasn't dead, per se, but just devoid of all the natural colors found back home. I wanted to talk to Gramps every once and awhile, but it was apparent that he didn't want to be bothered. In fact, he had a crazed look deep in his green eyes that made him look even crazier than he already was. He ran his hand through his silvery hair from time to time, and tapped the steering wheel almost constantly. I couldn't tell if it was real anxiety or just an act to get me hyped up before the adventure, but I was still filled with that nervous energy you'd get before a big speech or presentation.

Minutes turned to hours, and the silence was killing me. "Hey, Gramps," I muttered. "How far out is Ravenville? We've been on the road for a while."

"We're nearly there," he replied flatly. "It's on the outskirts of the valley. One of the most isolated places I know." I waited for him to say something else, but his eyes were locked onto the road ahead.

"Are you nervous?"

He remained unflinching. "Just a little. For you and for me."

Uh-oh. My heartrate spiked. If Gramps was just a little nervous, that usually meant that something really bad was going to go down. I've never doubted his intuitions or fears because they always end up correct in the end. And if he was fearful of Ravenville, something's probably going to scare me to death there. Gruntel is gonna pay for this.

Just off of the horizon, I could see the shapes of houses. We left pretty late in the day, so the sun was already trading places with the moon, and it made me wonder if we'd have to spend the night here. Nighttime in the middle of nowhere here is rather dangerous, or so I have deduced from Gramps' stories.

Gramps slowed down as the town drew nearer. The sound of gravel cracking on the road gradually arose as we began to search for a place to park, which wasn't too difficult seeing how no other vehicles were present anywhere around the town. In fact, the place seemed entirely devoid of life. Given the name, I was expecting nothing but fear. Maybe whatever lived here was afraid of us!

"Say," Gramps said, interrupting my train of thought, "do you know what the phase of the moon is going to be?"

"Umm…" I turned my head to see the giant moon creeping over the horizon. "From what it looks like, full."

"What did you just say?" he snapped.

His grave tone shot chills down my spine. "F-Full."

The truck came to a screeching halt, and Gramps disengaged it. Whipping open the door, he scurried to the back and began rummaging for something. I followed him with a more nervous energy.

As soon as I ended up by his side, he thrusted what he had in his hands to me. "You may need this," he said. "You remember how to use it?" The biggest lump in my throat was forming as I stared at what he had given me: his 12-gauge shotgun. What's more, on top of the weapon, he handed me the magazine, fully loaded, and a few extra shells.

"Can you please tell me what's going on?"

Gramps slammed the trunk closed. He didn't seem angry, but a massive sigh left him. "Vince, why did you choose to come here?"

"So I could get Gruntel to shut up."

"That it?" He began walking off towards one of the houses and motioned me to follow. As we tread through some grass to the nearest house, he continued is little spiel. "With a name like 'Ravenville,' I thought you would have gone with your better judgement, Vince. Just saying."

We reached the house and shamelessly barged in. Gramps swept through the house to ensure that it was vacant, and began to bark orders at me to secure and build up our makeshift base. Never have I seen Gramps get so worked up about something like this. He always did forewarn me about danger to keep me safe, but his snarkiness and fear this time was far greater than anything I could remember.

In one of the rooms Gramps sent me to wall off, there was a window I decided to gaze out from for a little while. Perhaps Gramps wasn't too wrong in being so anxious, as the sky was surely a sign of something abnormal. There wasn't a warm sunset to be seen at all. In fact, the sun had actually already taken cover under the horizon. The sky, however, retained a deep orange color, and the clouds had faded to a bone-chilling black. The moon, fuller and closer than ever, glared down at me with its bright yellow color, almost as if it were warning me of something.

"AAUGH!" My blood froze after suddenly hearing this scream in the other room. "God damn it!"

"Gramps?!" I could feel my blood suddenly pounding in my ears as another wave of chills shot through me. I was stuck in place by my own fear. "Gramps, are you okay?"

"Don't come in here!" he called back. "Lock the door! Hide! Do what you can to get away!"

No, I couldn't. I wasn't going to just leave him here without knowing what I was going to have to put up with. I gripped my weapon tightly and cracked open the door to see a black figure lying in the middle of the living room floor. It was human shaped, and in Gramps' clothing, but Gramps was definitely not the one in them. Slowly advancing, I took a closer look at the creature before me. It stirred, and the head of a bird whipped toward me, it's black eye shooting a hole through me.

"Holy fuck!" I yelped. "What the fuck are you?! What'd you do with Gramps?!" Tears already began to form in my eyes. I pointed the gun at the bird, but not looking at the abomination on the floor.

"I bet you're regretting coming here, now," the giant birdman grumbled. A pang of relief washed over me to hear Gramps' voice, but I still couldn't look at him.

"G-Gramps?"

"Vince, look at me and listen."

It was a battle to force my eyes into his direction. He had already stood himself up, which meant a six-foot tall bird was right in front of my. My lungs felt like they were going to burst from how quickly I began to breathe. His body language was exactly of one, too: the jerky head movements, the blank stare, and the motionless body. I was only able to barely handle it knowing that Gramps was somewhere inside there.

"Wha… What happened to you?" My voice shook harder than an earthquake.

"I've turned into a Raven, if it isn't obvious." The way his pointy beak morphed to make words made me shiver harder. "Vince, you need to get out of here. There are plenty of other permanent residents here that are Ravens all the time."

"W-Why should I leave?"

Gramps cleared his throat. "This town is cursed by the Evil Faction, Vince. Every full moon, from midnight to about one o' clock, the residents of Ravenville are to go berserk, slaughtering everything that has wandered in, whether good, evil, or neutral. There's also a chance that visitors temporarily transform into one of them, participating in the carnage. Seems I got unlucky this time. Either way, I'll transform back once the hour is over, but you're in grave danger until then."

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!" All this talk of an entire population of birds coming after to eat me wasn't exactly a formula to help me think straight, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could look at Gramps without fainting.

"Vince, stay focused!" He backed away, relieving some tension. "I understand how afraid you are of birds, but I must ask you to face your fears for just one hour. It could be a matter between life and death if you don't. My best advice, though, is to avoid all of this. Hide. If you're found, don't forget about the gun."

"But what if you attack me?!"

"Shoot me."

Hearing his words stung. He cares way too much for me, so much so that he'd literally take bullets for me.

"Now go!" Gramps stepped aside so I could flee from the house. "Make me proud and don't die!"

Gramps isn't exactly known for words of encouragement, but that's all I needed to hear before running out into the wild and trying to find a new, suitable hiding place to wait out the night of killer birds. Gruntel was really going to pay now. She was a witch, but she never put my life at stake before.

Ravenville was eerily silent. The only sound that echoed was the crunching of my shoes against the dimly-lit, gravel roads. I was all alone this time. It was an adventure, all right. Was it really the kind of adventure that I wanted, though? I put myself through senseless danger this time, and now I have nothing else but a gun to defend myself with, cold and alone.

The question is, where do I go? I highly doubt any of the houses are vacant, and all the spots I could hide would be visible from an aerial point of view. I was just nearly fresh out of ideas when I saw one building and hatched an idea: the church! No bird would suspect me in there. Fortunately for me, the doors were unlocked. It was a small chapel with plenty of pews to get under. I took one nearest to the front doors in case I needed to make a quick escape.

As soon as I settled down in position, I could hear the low, ominous tones of bells. My heart skipped a beat as I check the time. Midnight already.

In a matter of minutes, a chorus of cawing and squawking filled the air outside the chapel. I would love to say that I held a face of determination in the midst of great danger, but the truth was that I was on the brink of tears yet again. My body already ached from all the trembling was doing as a result of this rush. This hour was going to be long, and nothing would make me forget it.

Every two beats of my heart was another second that passed. These seconds turned to minutes, and these minutes turned into intervals of five. This waiting was killing me, coupled with the fact that I kept hearing all that obnoxious bird speak outside. I couldn't take it anymore. Make it stop! Make it stop!

But then, all of a sudden, I could hear the doors of the church squeak. I could feel the color drain from my face as I could just barely see the doors open fully and hear the clacking of talons to the stone. Please don't come this way, I beg of you! Sweat streaked down my forehead.

Curiously, the Raven walked right past me, but very slowly. After a while, it stopped moving and stood in place. If I was to face my fears, now would be the time to pounce. I inched my way out from under the pew to begin my approach. The bird was just staring at the cross that rested upon the altar in the front. I still haven't seen any savage birds, nor have I seen any bird at all except for Gramps until now, but I didn't want to take any chances. Once reaching a spot directly behind him, I raised the gun high above its head. Unexpectedly, though, the bird whipped its head around to face me, but it was too late. As it cawed loudly to alert my presence, I smacked it in the face with the butt of the stock, the bird falling unconscious to the ground.

I did it! I took one down! I would have celebrated more, if it weren't for me turning around. At the doors of the church, I could see about four more of the Ravens staring at me and the one of their kind that I senselessly beat. My legs still felt like jelly, but I looked dead ahead. If they wanted a piece of me, they had to fight for it. I primed the shotgun and held it in a ready position.

Visible anger was apparent on the Ravens' faces. It wasn't a rabid, defensive anger, though. Perhaps they were watching me take down they're other friend? Or was it just the curse Gramps mentioned hijacking their brains? If Gramps was any proof, there may still be a soul trapped under this new murderous mentality.

No matter the case, the four Ravens slowly marched towards me, examining what I left in my wake as much as they were examining me.

"Stay back!" I shouted, trembling uncontrollably. I felt like I was going to melt at any given moment. But, I kept my retreat on pace with their sluggish advance.

"You… hurt… him…" one of the Ravens slurred.

"I said, stay back!" I aimed the gun up to the ceiling and pulled the trigger. Sawdust snowed down as the blast of the gun firing rang through all of our ears. The Ravens immediately halted and had a fear of their own imprisoned in their eyes.

"Don't… shoot…!"

"Don't… hurt… us…!"

"Guns… bad…!"

This chorus of ghastly voices sent something crawling in my gut. Their newfound fear of me was matching my fear of them. Had I won? Was it just a staring contest until the hour was up? I would have said yes if it weren't for one Raven in that group of four. It seemed even more enraged at the fact that I threatened it. It took the challenge over accepting the warning.

In a matter of three seconds, I learned something. These birds were, in fact, intelligent. They knew that they had a mission. If they acted like regular birds, they would have flapped their wings for miles away from this place at the sheer sound of a gunshot. Instead, most of them cowered in fear. The other charged for an attack.

Now that I know, however, I just can't kill them. There truly are personalities suppressed by the curse. I could handicap them with fear or a non-lethal injury, but killing them would be exactly like shoot some random person on the street. Even in this huge rush of adrenaline, I kept that in mind as dodged out of the way of this challenging Raven's peck and aimed straight for it's sharp, scaly talons. Before it could turn around, the gun had already fired. Bullets tore through the claws and sent it crashing to the ground, squawking in agony.

Blood was beginning to pool around the downed bird's claw. Turning to face the bystanders, I could tell it was finally a victory won. They were the ones backing away from me now. I had finally passed the baton of fear.

But I couldn't help but notice that there was now something oddly different about the three that remained. Something oddly… human. Their eyes were no longer soulless pits, and I could see just how awestruck they were at what I had done. And behind me, I could hear the cries from my victim morphing to a more human sound.

I looked back at who I had shot and my heart sank through the floor. Lying in a pile of feathers and blood was Gramps himself, gripping his ankle, trying to stop the blood flow from his mangled foot.

"Gramps!" I got down on my knees to see for myself what I had done. "Gramps, I'm so sorry! Please don't die!"

"Shut up! I'm not gonna die!" Gramps said between breaths. "But I will need a doctor. No amount of apples will keep him away."

On my shoulder, I could feel a soft tap on my shoulder. As I turned, I yelped to see that one of the Ravens was towering over me and Gramps, yet somberly. I went to go for the rifle, but Gramps yelled at me not to.

"We'll carry him to safety, kid. You can help, if you want." The birdman sounded sincere, so I got up and helped him pick up Gramps. "I'll lead the way to our doctor." Thus, we carried Gramps all the way across the town town to the doctor's office. My mind was blank the whole time. I really did just shoot Gramps in the foot. And now, I really was next to a giant bird helping him take Gramps to safety.

Once we arrived, there was another Raven sitting at a desk that noticed us right away and called for the doctor. Immediately, the doctor burst out of another room with a hospital bed, and we set Gramps in it. The doctor nodded at both of us and rolled Gramps away into another room.

"You two got here awfully quick," the bird at the desk said. "What happened?"

"This kid's grandfather transformed, but he didn't. He ended up shooting his grandfather's foot."

That did me in. I collapsed to the ground, tears soaking my face. I survived what could be loosely described as a zombie apocalypse. I pulled the trigger on my own grandfather. I overcame the Ravens. These events of the past hour were sitting on me, suffocating me. It was then that I finally blacked out.

I didn't know how long I was out, but the light of day made me want to close my eyes again. In closing my eyes, however, I was greeted with the frightening images of what happened the last time I was conscious. That's when it came to me.

Like the bullet that tore through him, I shot up out of my bed and whipped my head around. "Gramps?!" I called. "Hey, Gramps, where are you?!"

"Whoa, there!" One of the Ravens saw my panicking and approached to calm me down. I jumped a bit at the sight of him, but saw that he was wearing a white coat and a head mirror. "It's okay, Vince. Your grandfather is right here, and he's fine."

Looking to where he was motioning, I saw Gramps in the bed next to mine, but with his left leg elevated, the foot wrapped in bandages. I attempted to get up to see him, but I was restrained by the doctor. "Take it easy, Vince. You've had a rough night."

I guess he was right; my head was aching a bit and I was sore all over. That didn't mean I wasn't going to be concerned for Gramps, though. I slowly sat up, looking over at him. He was awake, an no longer in pain. His hands were folded on his belly as they rose and fell with every breath.

"Is Gramps gonna be okay?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah, he's gonna be fine." Before I could make a sigh of relief, the doctor continued. "But there is… one complication. His foot is really messed up, and so we really only have two options to take care of it."

I stared at him, waiting to hear the proposals. "Either he goes on crutches for the rest of his life, or we could amputate his foot and give him a prosthetic."

Shit. Now it was sinking in. I just destroyed Gramps' hopes and dreams. What was I supposed to do now? Either way, I handicapped him to the point where I jeopardized any future hunts and adventures for him. I felt so empty. Was my act of self-defense in vain? Any hope that it wasn't I clinged on to.

Once again, tears streamed down my face, keeping my whimpering and weeping to a minimal noise level. I could hear Gramps telling the doctor to leave the room, but that honestly didn't matter. I was going to be a blubbering mess either way.

The doctor shut the door behind him, which just left me and Gramps in the room together. I continued to sob, while Gramps just lied in his bed silently. For what felt like an eternity, we sat like this. Until, out of the blue, Gramps said, "Vince, c'mere." I looked at him, and it felt like time froze.

"W-What?"

"I said to come over here."

Gramps was a pretty understanding person most of the time, but didn't know if I was going to make it out of this one. I mean, for Christ's sake! I pumped lead into his foot! He had every right to want to do the same to me, even if I wasn't a killer birdman by the whim of some curse.

"What's wrong?" I whimpered.

He gave me a curious stare. "What the hell are you crying about?"

"Why else?" I incoherently uttered between sniffles. "I just took away everything you're able to do!"

"Do you really believe that?" He raised an eyebrow, and a smirk rolled up is face.

"I… don't follow."

"Vince, tell me where we are."

"Uh, Ravenville."

"Think bigger."

"...Nacht Valley?"

"And what does Nacht Valley have over the everyday world?"

"Well, a lot. Like magic—"

"Right on the money." Gramps grinned super widely. "The magic in Nacht Valley will allow a prosthetic to act like a real one."

I wanted to be hopeful, but I was still filled with too much negativity. "How are you so sure?"

"Well, if I'm honest, I'm not. But you know me, Vince! I'm too stubborn to be handicapped. I'll find a way."

It fell silent, but I finally smiled. I should know Gramps better than this. He's strange, but he always keeps his word. "You're not mad, then?"

"Not at all," Gramps said. "In fact, I couldn't be happier that you were able to follow directions so well. Now go call the doctor and tell him I want my foot chopped off." Once again, we exchanged smirks.

Ravenville wasn't such a scary place, now that I thought about it. Sure, I'd have to avoid it every full moon, but from what I'm seeing, the folks are pretty friendly. I was taken care of when I fainted, the bystander was super helpful at rushing Gramps in, and the doctor was super nice and understanding. It was a rough night for sure, and even though Gramps' foot was a heftier price to pay, this adventure, while a bit traumatizing, was thrilling. As the dust settled and reconstruction began, I couldn't stop thinking of a new, pressing question pertaining to both me and Gramps: What's next?