As previously stated, I am an evil, evil girl for leaving you guys on that cliffhanger. But at least I updated post haste! So here's the next part, let's hope it lives up to the hype. Not too much action in the chapter, but later on there will be much, much, muchmuchmuch more. Of both the frightening and sexy kinds.
That being said, I do hope you enjoy the chapter and the story as a whole.
Read on
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He stared up into the gaping jaws of the spider, fangs dripping with poison and pure hatred in eight beady eyes. This was really it, wasn't it? He was going to die here with no way to get word to his father about what had happened. Matthew would wake up in the morning to find his son dead. Goodbye cruel world, indeed. He shut his eyes and raised his arm in front of his face like a shield, waiting for the paralyzing bite that would seal his fate.
Only...it never came.
Just as he had said his prayers and made his peace with God (sending up an extra prayer for his father), he felt a rush of wind go past his ear and a sort of squishy thud. He tentatively opened his eyes to see a fucking broadsword embedded in the side of the spider. He would deny it to the end of his existance, but he shrieked as he scrambled away, getting clear just as the spider collapsed where he'd been laying not moments before.
He looked around, head swivelling wildly as he searched for the origin of the three foot hunk of steel piercing through the spider's carcass. He expected some seven foot tall knight in shining armor standing there in a halo of light with a gleaming white battle horse standing in the background as inexplicable waves crashed despite being miles from the nearest ocean.
What he got instead was a man towering over him in worn, tattered leather who looked more like an Aragorn style ranger than any kind of knight. Proud, strong features framed by silver hair and piercing violet eyes. He couldn't deny that the man was handsome and the whole "saving your life" thing could definitely become a turn on. But he was looking at him like he was some sort of weak little worm not worth saving.
He got up off of the ground, flashing him a smile and holding out his hand. "Yo, man, thanks for that. The name's Alfred. What's yours?" He asked, waiting for the man to respond. His smile fell as the man just grunted and turned away. Alfred frowned as his arm fell back to his side. "Hey! I'm talking to you!' He growled, following after him as he melted back into the tree cover.
Somehow he managed not to lose the taller man as he weaved in and out of the trees. "Come on, slow down! Aren't you even going to tell me your name!" He called, jogging to keep up with longer strides. The man didn't answer, but Alfred was never one to give up easily. "Hey! You can't just save a guy's like and run off!" He growled, running up to cut the guy off. "What is your problem!"
"I am not answering you because I want you to go away." He said gruffly, spearing Alfred with a glare. Instead of being intimidated by it and backing down, Alfred found himself staring into those eyes. The guy may be a dick, but he was a hot dick. And that accent! Was he Russian or something?
"Well that's too bad. Because now that you've said that, I'm not going anywhere." He told him, crossing his arms and standing squarely in his path. "Besides, there's no fucking way I'm going off into this forest on my own. Not until I find a way to wake up."
"Look...Alfred, is it? We're all trying to find a way out. The humans, at least. You're not going to find a way out by following me around any more than you are on your own. So I suggest you get out of my way." He said, crossing his arms and squaring off with the blonde.
"Yeah, but I'm more likely to stay alive." He pointed out, not barging an inch. He wasn't going to let this guy go without even telling him his name. "Listen, how about this. I pick up a weapon somewhere, you teach me how to use it, and the second I can take care of myself I'll split." He compromised, blocking the man's path as he tried to move around him. "Come on, obviously you give a shit if I live or die or you wouldn't have saved my ass back there. Can you really live with yourself knowing you dumped me in the middle of a forest filled with monsters without even a weapon?" He asked, doing his best puppy dog eyes.
The man reagarded him carefully, violet eyes scoping him out like he was appraising some item that he was trying to decide the value of. If there had even been a hint of lust it might have been sexy. But, as it was, Alfred just felt like he wasn't quite cutting it. But he squared his shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. The man smirked and Alfred felt his inner voice let out a breath of relief.
"Ivan Braginsky. Have you ever used a sword?" He asked. Alfred raised an eyebrow and shook his head.
"I don't know how long you've been in here, but people on the outs don't use swords nowadays." He told him. "But I've shot a bow a few times before. I'd like to say my aim is okay for someone who only dabbles." He told him. Ivan nodded and unslung the bow and quiver from his back, tossing it to Alfred.
"I may be older than you, but I'm not that old. I never wielded a sword before I became trapped here, either." Alfred hoisted the bow and quiver over his shoulders and tested his reach, making sure he could get at the arrows if he needed to.
"So, Ivan, how long have you been in here?" He asked. He figured the guy probably wouldn't want to talk if he didn't even really want him here, but it was worth a shot. His suspicions were confirmed when Ivan rolled his eyes and pushed past him.
"Try to keep up, solnuska." Alfred's cheeks colored and he glared at the Russian. He wasn't sure what he'd called him, but the tome of his voice was enough to figure out that it was meant to be patronising. He didn't like to be treated like a child.
"I'm 17, I have a name, and I don't speak your fucking weird ass language. Don't talk to me like that." He growled. The man just laughed and continued on. Alfred pouted and followed after him, still jogging to keep up. How fast could this guy walk!
"So young, dorogoy." He teased in that same patronizing tone that made Alfred feel like a toddler parading around in daddy's suit. He growled and put on a burst of speed to catch up to him.
"Oh, and what about you, grandpa?" How old are you?" He sneered, hoping to hit him where it hurt. But he just chuckled and looked back over his shoulder.
"That depends. What year is it in reality?" He asked, seeming to actually think about it.
"2011, why?" He asked, wondering just how long the other man had been in here. Surely he would have aged in here the same as in reality, right? And if he'd been in here too long and his body had died, wouldn't his dream self die, too?
"Four years..." He trailed off, not seeming to believe it. He'd been in here for four years? The poor man! What must his family think? Was he just laying on a bed somewhere, waiting four years to wake up? "That would make me 24." He said finally, turning away and heading off again, slowing down considerably so that Alfred could keep up.
Alfred was quiet for a moment, thinking through everything that had happened since he'd entered the dreamscape. Mostly the fact that whoever had created it wasn't very creative. The place looked like Mirkwood, the frickin Cheshire cat was the one that had told him about the stupid game, and it had one path through the forest. Wait, the path!
"Hey! Wait a minute! If I can find the clearing again, I can find the path! The Cheshire cat said it led out of the forest!" He cried, eyes lighting up in excitement. He expected Ivan to turn around and join him in his joy, perhaps rushing back to the clearing. But he just waved a hand back at him dismissively.
"Do not bother, everything in the forest moves as soon as you lose sight of it. Nothing's in the same place twice. We could walk any way and we'd have an equal chance of finding that meadow." He told him. Alfred deflated, hope dying a little in his heart. If that was true, then he had almost no chance of getting back to the path. Ivan had been in the forest for four years and he obviously hadn't found it again, or he wouldn't be here in the woods. What chance did he have?
Ivan sighed and turned back to him. "Don't look so down, we will find the path again. You will soon learn, solnushko, that finding the path is much easier than staying on it. And you are never sure where on the path you might end up." Alfred tried to take heart at that, but it just made the situation seem more grim.
"So what, once you lose the path, you're fucked? You can find it again, but you might end up miles behind where you started and you're liable to get chased off again?" He scoffed, kicking at a rock. "They really don't want us to get out of here, do they?"
"That is the basic idea, yes. They wish to keep us here, so they move things around as often as they can. Or perhaps that's just how the Dreamscape works, I do not know. I have been wandering these blasted woods for years and I am no closer to figuring out how or why I am here or what this all is, what it means." He told him, brow furrowing as he brooded on the thought. It wasn't something Alfred wanted to think about, being trapped in an ever changing world where nothing was certain, not even the steps you'd already taken. He could go forward and reach the place where he started, or go backwards and reach where he was going. It was all so confusing.
"Whatever. Let's just go until we find the path. I'm pretty sure that with two of us we're more likely to hold our ground and stay on it." He reasoned. Ivan just shook his head and sat down on a nearby tree stump.
"First of all, we are going no further tonight. It will be getting dark soon and even without the threat of all the horrible things that come out at night, I still would not risk walking through the woods with no way to see what's under your feet. One of us could break an ankle that way and the last thing you want to be in here is injured." He said, digging a pipe and tobacco out of his pocket.
"First of all, does that mean we're making camp? Second of all, where did you get tobacco in here?" He asked, shaking his head increduously. Had he been scrimping and saving pipe tobacco for four years? On top of that, how did he even get it into the Dreamscape? All Alfred had woken up with was his glasses, a tshirt and jeans, and Grandpa's bomber jacket. Here was this guy who, even though he was only a few years older than Alfred, had seemingly woken up with World of Warcraft Hunter's gear, a broadsword, and pipe tobacco. Was this guy some sort of LARPer?
"Yes, we are making camp. And while I set up the shelter, you will practice your aim. Then i will teach you how to make replacement arrows. And as for the tobacco, you will occaisonaly come past a small town or village where you can buy and sell things. The people in the towns need items from the forest, but they can't go in or they'll never find their way back. And the adventurers trapped in the forest need a way to buy things like gear, weapons, and food. It works quite well for all concerned." He explained, puffing away at his pipe. "No go, young grasshopper, practice your skills."
"A karate kid joke, really?" Alfred scoffed, rolling his eyes and unslinging the bow from his back. He picked a tree at random and notched an arrow, sticking his tongue out from between his lips in concentration as he slowly lined up the shot, one eye closing reflexively. Ivan chuckled and shook his head.
"You are going to miss that shot." He taunted him. Alfred's ears burned and he relaxed the tension on the bowstring, but he refused to even acknowledge that the damn Ruskie had said anything. So he pulled the bowstring taut again, the curve of the bow straining in his hands as his muscles flexed with the fumbling, half awkward movement of drawing his arrow back. He let the string go, yelping as it snapped the inside of his forearm. The arrow hurtled forward toward the tree and...
Missed by a long shot.
He cursed under his breath and went to retrieve the arrow. "How did you know I was going to miss! I aimed that arrow perfectly!" He whined, turning on Ivan as if it was his fault that he'd missed the shot.
"First of all, you took too long to line up the shot. If that had been a monster you'd have been dead already, so it didn't matter if you missed the shot or not. Second of all, you closed your left eye, throwing your depth perception off kilter. Third of all, I could not resist the jab. You looked like a child with your tongue stuck out like that." He chuckled. "Try keeping both your eyes open this time. You probably still won't hit the tree, but at least you will get closer, da?"
Ivan lifted himself off of the tree stump and strode over to a small but strong looking sapling, drawing a knife from his boot and hacking at the young, green wood. "I am going to construct us a shelter, you continue your practice. I will tell you when you are done, you are not to stop before." He said, glaring at Alfred seriously. "Do you hear me?"
Alfred glared back, but nodded, notching another arrow. This time, as he pulled the string back, he kept his tongue in his mouth and both eyes open. As Ivan had predicted, he still didn't get the arrow anywhere near the intended target, but he was much closer than the first time. This was way harder than first person shooting games.
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By the time Ivan called Alfred back from his practice he had managed to get two arrows into the wood of the tree, though neither had struck the spot he'd been aiming at. But when you were shooting at a tree trunk, just getting it in the wood was a pretty hefty accomplishment in Alfred's eyes. And with one day of practice, Alfred felt confident that he'd at least be able to catch some small animal for food within a month. Though he'd never wager on his skills against a monster.
Ivan, meanwhile, had constructed a sort of platform in the branches of a nearby tree with the trunks of saplings cut longwise down the middle and lashed together. The entire thing didn't look big enough for the both of them to lay together without invading eachother's personal space, but it looked safe enough.
"Why up in the tree? Why not just make a lean to against the trunk or something?" He asked, jogging over to where Ivan was pulling out dried meat from his pack. He handed Alfred a piece and sat down on the tree stump he'd been occupying earlier.
"Because bad things crawl the forest floor at night. The trees are much safer." He told him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"But what about the things that climb? I'm sure that spider could have gotten up onto that little platform with no problems." He pointed out skeptically.
"What patrols the ground at night is much worse than anything we'll encounter with the trees. Trust me, Alfred. You do not want to meet any of them." He told him, giving Alfred a look that clearly told him not to persue the matter any farther. But Alfred was not one to be deterred.
"So, what? The Bandersnatch? The Jabberwocky?" He scoffed, thinking back on that fucking cat. He hated cats so much. Especially that disappearing Cheshire prick.
"I have never seen them, but perhaps. You must remember that we are basically in a very bad dream, as real as the danger is. The Dreamscape contains all the things that lurk in the nightmares of man, coming forth from the shadows when we're at our most vulnerable. I do not doubt that somewhere, those creatures prowl in search of blood." He said, very serious. Alfred gluped and backed away slightly, sorry he'd asked. "It is getting darker. I will show you how to construct arrows when we make camp tomorrow. For now we will try to rest."
With that, Ivan swung up onto the platform with an easy grace. He'd probably done that a million times and yet Alfred still had trouble not feeling jealous over how easy he made it look. Especially after having to scramble up onto it himself, looking like some sort of awkward monkey. And yet the level of awkward still managed to spike when he got up onto the platform and lay down next to the Russian.
He made the mistake of laying down facing him and their eyes locked. They fell into some sort of weird half staring contest, half trance like state. Alfred felt his heart speed up and his cheeks darken as he stared into the violet eyes of his companion. But for the life of him, he couldn't look away. Ivan seemed similarly transfixed, eyes never straying from the younger man's face.
It was a havily blushing Alfred that finally broke eye contact, jerking back as if he'd been burned and rolling over. "Whelp! Goodnight!" He squeaked, voice coming out much higher pitched than he'd meant it to. He could still feel his heart pounding against his ribcage and Ivan's warm body pressing into his own where it was absolutely unavoidable. He tried moving away, but aborted the effort when he almost fell off the platform.
This was going to be a long night.
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D'awww, ain't they cute? u Poor little sexually frustrated virgin!Al is forcibly cuddled up with an Eastern European hunk. Who among us can say we wouldn't trade places with him, regardless of personal danger? xDD
I'm so kidding, I wouldn't trade places with Alfred for all the money and bitches in the world.
Also, so sorry for slow updates to anyone who was awaiting that last chapter for Boy in the Painting. wouldn't let me upload new chapters.