Alex was going out a lot more. It was funny, in a sense, how he became proactive only when his life was in danger. His mom was actually impressed with him for once and all it took was being told that his life's continuation was solely dependent on him improving himself.
He'd found it in a book; an old book but one that was visibly newer than the other. It spoke of 'hunters.' People who hunt beasts, risk becoming beasts themselves and, most importantly, suppressed beasthood through willpower alone.
He was on a light jog–emphasis on light–through his neighbourhood when he smelt something that made him freeze. It was the scent of the dreaming world.
Every bit of knowledge he read pointed to the unnatural nature of a dream. He wasn't sure what it was but he knew that he should fear it. It was a prospect taught everywhere.
"We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."
He'd never forget the blood he saw on those stairs when first dreamt. He'd never forget that the dream wasn't good but a lesser of 2 evils; even if he was tempted to trust the inhuman boy.
That's why when he first smelled the dreaming world about a forest near his home, he turned around and decided that he'd be steering clear of that area for days to come.
That was the first day he came across the forest.
Of a Dream Past
Alex was angering easier. Small things were constantly drawing his ire. Even the thought that the scourge was morphing his thoughts aggravated him.
Alex had never been one for liking sleep. Sure, he liked no longer feeling tired but he's always wished he could do away with the human need for sleep. Now? He wouldn't trade sleep for the world.
It was his only escape. The only time he didn't feel a foreign rage trying to invade his mind. The only time when he could work towards surpassing the scourge.
In contrast, school was torture. It felt pointless. He could barely imagine himself working a job anymore. Had it not been for what he found out, he would've hated being awake.
His nails were sturdier, sharper, and could extend like claws. His teeth were able to shift like canines and when he was calm, his mind was sharper. He wasn't smarter but he noticed things that he hadn't before. He was reacting to things faster. Perceiving faster. Almost like a sixth sense.
However, he wouldn't have needed his sixth sense to see what he had just seen. He saw a woman–one whom he could smell melancholy oozing off of. She had missing posters in her hands and he couldn't stop himself from snatching one.
"Hello?"
He didn't respond, instead staring at the face of the same boy who he'd seen, peripherally, multiple days before. Only, on this day, he recognized him.
"This boy. What's his name?"
"Mergo… You- have you seen him?"
The quiver of her voice broke him out of his trance. "Mergo. That sounds right. How long has he been missing for?"
Her eyebrows furrowed. "It's been a little over 2 weeks."
About as long as he'd known the kid himself. He locked eyes with the woman moved his perception to see past what only his eyes could and found his answer. Either she was superb at hiding it or there was nothing supernatural about her at all.
"No, I haven't seen him."
It was as if a flip in her switched. "You monster! I saw the way you were staring at the poster, you've seen him!"
He sent a silent thanks to whoever was responsible for his newfound quick thinking. "Oh." He put upon a regretful face. "I knew I recognized him from back a little back; I saw him and how pale he was stuck with me. That was more than a few months ago, sorry ma'am."
He promptly walked away and he could see that she wanted to say more. It made guilt race down him but it wasn't like he could say anything helpful short of outing himself as a plague carrier. Ultimately, that's what stayed his tongue.
A flare of anger at his situation made him send a fist toward a wall nearby. Cause for instant regret as he winced in pain and saw that his knuckles were scraped. However, he had to contain a cry of surprise when he saw the scrapes closing up.
It centered him. He didn't have time to be feeling bad about other people. He had to worry about himself. He steeled his nerves and made a potentially stupid decision. He walked up to the forest.
He was contemplating entering again when he heard a humorless chuckle.
"My boy. He used to find this place so interesting. I'd ask him, 'what do you like about the woods?' And he'd tell me that it was 'refreshingly unnatural.' I never figured out what it meant–though I had my suspicions–but I'd take him here once every few months and he'd fall asleep in my arms." It was the woman from before; her tone was clinical, restrained.
That quelled his anger, his drive, and his shoulders slacked. He didn't know what he could offer her so he chose the safe route. "I'm sorry."
He saw he scowl out of the corner of her eye. "My husband; he was scared of our child. So scared even that he let sighed in relief when he found Mergo was gone." She snarled. "Useless bastard–haven't talked to him since. You're afraid of him too."
Alex drew his expression tight. "I'm not sure what you're hinting at."
She winced. "My son isn't natural. I developed a knack for finding that sort of thing. That's why I know you're not natural either." She hesitated but didn't let him leave before getting her words in again. "I'm not going to go to anyone; god knows what they'd find about my boy if they did. I just want to know where my boy is and I think you're the first person who might be able to tell me something."
"I wish I could tell you but I just don't know." His nails dug into his clenched fist; he ignored the pain. "Honestly, I don't know anything."
She searched his face and when all she found was a defeated boy, she sighed, defeated, and left; not a parting word between them.
He looked into the forest again and saw his inadequacy looking back at him. He walked home again, a failure.
In the back of his head, he noted that the woman was more supernatural than she seemed.
Of a Dream Past
Weeks passed, where he would end his jogs, less emphasis on light now, in front of the forest. He'd noticed the smell was fading with time. It was only a lingering scent. The after scent of what was likely Mergo's visit fading away with time.
He figured he'd risk the journey when the scent faded away to near-nothingness. 'Not cowardice but caution,' he'd tell himself.
That's why the scent of dreams appearing before the forest came into view startled him. It was a scary thought, that he'd see the Mergo again. It was one thing to enter the dream when he needed knowledge. It was another entirely to expose himself excessively.
He was about to turn away from the forest, completely remove it from his routes but he felt eyes turn upon him. There were myriad eyes gazing through him that he both couldn't and could see. His eyes were saying nothing was before him but his brain was screaming the contrary.
He shook his shock off and realized he wasn't paralyzed. He let out a small laugh at that. Something was looking at him, something supernatural, and it wasn't so far above him that he was rendered useless.
No, he finally recognized the eyes for what they were. Scared. The smile on his face was all teeth. Sharp teeth.
He moved forward and when he stood before the line of trees he allowed himself to open his mind. The phantom eyes lining his brain opened to see the truth behind the forest and left him dumbfounded.
He laughed a hearty and hysterical sound that came straight from his stomach. Anyone who was walking by would think him crazy.
"It was nothing. This entire, fucking, time there was nothing to be afraid of." It would've been more dangerous to try looking behind the walls in the dream. Here, there was only one depraved thing. A beast, sure, but one that might never have been human in the first place.
He stalked forward, claws extended and eyes bloodshot. It would be this that marked his first proper foray into the supernatural. Not as someone who was being thrust into things but as a hunter.
His instincts flared, causing him to jump to the left as a plant-man thing came out, its wooden arm spearing into where he stood previously. Its head and right arm were clearly human–albeit with clearly visible green veins–but its eyes socket had flowers blooming out of them and the rest of its body seemed to be stretches of wood weaved into the form of a man.
Its wooden body was littered with eyes but that just made Alex laugh harder. "Animal eyes. You thought you could become something more with animal eyes?"
It charged forward, slow and projected, but Alex easily sidestepped the clumsy thing. It brought its wooden arm up to slash at him; Alex easily backed away. It punched with its regular arm and Alex ducked under it, dragged his nails across them, and clawed at the side of things head, ending behind it.
It surprisingly bled red. Alex would say that, for a first fight, it was hard. That would be a lie Alex told others to play up impressiveness. It was a tedious, not hard affair. The tension eased out of his shoulders as he realized that he could easily outpace the monster. He laughed as he danced circles around it.
Eventually, after enough slashes against its human parts, and stabs into its eyes, the thing had no more blood left to bleed. It fell into a heap on the floor and Alex indulged himself in one beastly instinct. He licked the blood dripping flowing down his arms and once he sobered from his battle high, he beamed.
He'd have to throw away his shirt and drag the remnants of the plant-thing off but he had done it. He had killed a monster; the stuff straight out of fairy tales.
The forest became a fast favorite spot of his to take naps; for some reason, the dreaming smell stopped fading and he learned to find it comforting.
Of a Dream Past
It had been stripped off from the main body. Brought down to nothing. Manipulated into being used to execute a man. Decades ago, there'd been a man who told it to never harm a human. A man it made a promise to.
It failed Hamir, failed itself, and failed the forest. The last free will of the symbiotic magical seed died. Its failure, a catalyst for another's success.
And a pale boy hummed in satisfaction.