There was a soft shower of music, a wind chime. It pitter-pattered through the open window. The window blinds lifted and fell gently, their strings clattering, a gentle percussion.
The boy watched the wind through half-lidded eyes. His mind was fog, a rolling steam. He had no memory of his dream. He was glad, vaguely. He didn't think it had been a good one.
Boy, he was tired. He could lie there under all his comfort forever. The room swam around him. He could pretend he was underwater…
He slipped under.
When he stirred the second time, the wind had picked up. The wind chimes were anxious; the blinds thudded; the strings snapped. Maybe it was storming. The boy sat up to close the window, still bleary-eyed and moving through jelly. Why couldn't he wake up?
He hoisted himself by the sill and took a lazy look outside. What he saw rocked through him like a volcanic eruption—bubbling in his stomach first—shooting up to his brain. He was awake now. He screamed.
"AAAHHHH!"
Wait!
Midway through throwing off his covers, the boy snatched them back on and threw himself against the wall beneath the window. Someone was in his room. Someone he didn't know.
Don't leave the bed, said the stranger. You'll be lost. His voice was sharp and deep, a sinking blade. He sat on the boy's toy box. He was a shadow—he had no face. Just one eerie, golden eye, glowing where his forehead should have been.
Was he dreaming again?! He had to be, he had to be. His screams would wake his mother up, she'd come and get him through that door right there, right by the stranger—
Don't scream, warned the stranger.
"MOMMY!" screamed the boy. "DADDY!"
The wind howled in reply. No, that wasn't the wind. It howled again—closer at hand—gravelly and hungry.
I told you, don't scream! the stranger commanded him. They'll find us!
Without options, the boy clamped his mouth shut, trembling, his eyes begging the question, Who will find us?
The monsters.
He flinched. Was that voice in his head?!
Yes. Don't scream. Listen to me.
The boy listened.
You got lost. You're lucky I found you. The shadow stirred, and the boy yanked the sheets over his face.
Get away from me!
Calm down and listen to me. The blinds slammed overhead. The howling clawed its way over the wind chimes, breaking their music, crushing them.
Your puzzle, said the stranger. I have it. It's inside this toy box.
My puzzle?
You mustn't forget it! It's vital you have it!
Vital?
The monsters want it. I've hidden it from them. But they can still smell it, it seems—
Outside, a terrible, scraping roar.
The stranger cursed. Not the dragon, too!
The dragon? The White Dragon—! The boy pulled the sheets down and cried out,
"I know the dragon, she's my frie—AHH!"
The boy was flung forward. Something heavy and devastating bludgeoned the wall, once, twice, again. The blinds flew off the window and scattered at the stranger's feet. He shouted quickly now.
Something's happened to the monsters! She's not your friend anymore! You have to take the puzzle and get out of here!
The walls shook, and the boy moaned in fear.
"Help me!"
As soon as I open the toy box, run and grab the puzzle from it, fast as you can. Got it?
"O-okay—"
A vicious, keening roar, and the roof was ripped off. It clattered past razor-sharp wings into the yawning, swirling oblivion.
The White Dragon turned her baleful eye upon the boy. It was glassy. Drool spilled from her fangs and ran down her neck.
The boy stared. Was this really her? It couldn't be—
Ready?! shouted the stranger.
The dragon drew her head back. Prepared to strike.
Now!
There was a flash of light. The dragon reeled backward, screaming in pain. The boy tore his eyes from her and leapt from his bed, falling funny on his ankle and staggering to the toy box.
There it was, glinting gold, incomplete, and just as the walls collapsed he grabbed the puzzle, hugged it to himself, and with seared-shut eyes heard the dragon's final, awful cry of rage as all around them paled to deathly white.
PIECE #15: The Other Yuugi
Doctor's Note: Recently, a friend shared a post about the definition of "eerie"—something being there when it shouldn't, or absent when it ought to be there. I hoped I achieved that unsettling feeling, to agree, in this chapter!
Thank you for reading! - Dr. MP