The air's cool with the cold front moving in. Autumn soon morphing into winter. I can smell my mother's amazing dinner of roasted salmon with potatoes tubers and seasonal berries. My favorite dinner. There's said to be an early frost coming, so training today at the Academy is cancelled. I'm cocooned in endless blankets, and while my mother brings my dinner up, Toothless lays rested against my bedside.
I think maybe I've contracted an early winter cold and I'm required to stay in bed. But I want to get out of bed since it's making my lower back hurt. Dad's downstairs with Gobber discussing some new rule about to be passed on Berk. My mother brings up my dinner on a wooden tray and sets it across my thighs. Her cooking is so well-respected around the village, and many people constantly break down our door just to get a sneak peak at what makes her meals so delicious.
I gobble the whole things down despite my mother's warnings to go slow. But who can go slowly with amazing food like this? In the past, when I was younger, I would try and replicate her work with disappointing results. Once I finish, I snuggle back down into the sheets as she strokes my cheek with her fingers. Toothless lays sprawled at her feet. I open my eyes slightly so that I can see her face.
Her beautiful brown eyes that seem similar to chestnuts, but daintier. Her long, copper brown hair that spreads into two thick braids. Her feminine face that has an undeniable sweetness but fierce determination. And her hands. Her soft slender fingers. The skin like satin. That's what I think is the reason behind her cooking. Hands that have the power to cook amazing meals but the gentleness to comfort me when I'm consumed by terror. Hands I trust.
She ruffles her fingers through my hair as she sings me a lullaby to help me get to sleep. I press my cheek to her palm and allow myself to feel like a child. How I long for that gentle touch even though I know I can't have it, anymore.
Alone, I'm lost in my own paradise.
When I wake up, I have an unknown sense of comfort. I know it's connected to my mother and I try to hold onto it for as long as I can; but it slips away, leaving lonelier than ever. It takes me a minute to process that I'm in my bedroom at home back on Berk. But it makes things worse.
I can feel a stray tear escape my eye and roll down my cheek, but I don't stop it. I just feel it stream down my cheek and to the outside of my ear as I stare unblinkingly at the ceiling. How I wish to have her back. I close my eyes and more tears escape.
I didn't even know I was still mourning over the loss of my mother. Or maybe it's just that I need her so badly right now and she's not there to give me her soft hand. More tears. I'd hold them back, but I'm too tired, and too sore to fight. I would've broken out into a sob, but something else stops me.
My nose lifts to the air and I sniff. Is that? Yes, it is. My mother's cooking! Not dinner, but breakfast. So it must be in the morning. And it's eggs with cold yak milk and even some raspberries.
I leap out of bed and rush downstairs into the den, hoping that somehow my mother has come back and is here to help me. But when I reach the bottom of the stairs, I only see Skullette, my Dad and Gobber. Skullette's pulled out my mother's old cookbook and has a sheet of parchment in her hands. Reading it from the back, I can see it reads "Hiccup's Favorite Breakfast." Instead of feeling a pang of sorrow, I feel a stab of foolishness.
Foolish I was to believe that my mother could somehow come back to life and be there for me. Then it's replaced with anger. My dad see's me and a smile breaks out, along with the look of relief and happiness.
"Hiccup!" he says with joy. Then everyone's eyes turn to me.
"Good to see you're alright Hiccup." Gobber says, but I stay silent.
"Hey, I hope you're hungry." Skullette chimes in.
My eyebrows narrow and a scowl crosses my face. Out of my peripherals, I can see Dads face change when he sees. He shifts, but I dash forward. I snatch up the book and yank the piece of parchment out of Skullette's hand. This motion is so sudden that she flinches and Gobber stares at me shocked.
"What are you doing with this?!" I scream out of nowhere. Everyone stays quiet. "I said what are you doing with this?!" I repeat.
Skullette's the first to speak, and despite my yelling, her voice stays calm. "Hiccup, you were sick in bed, and I wanted to cheer you up, so decided to make your favorite meal."
While I should be happy, even grateful she went to the trouble, something about her making my mother's meal rubs me the wrong way.
"Don't you touch this! Don't you ever touch this! Do you understand me?!" I scream at the top of my lungs, as if I want the while village to hear me.
Skullette stands there, her mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes wide. She looks like she's on the verge of crying since she doesn't know why I'm so mad when she was only trying to help. I'm suddenly very dizzy from both springing out of bed, and running over to get the book. But even worse, I feel as if I'm about to cry again. I resist the impulse to hold my head.
I know I'm going to have to give her an apology, but right now, I let my anger flow. I push through Gobber, who reached out to hold me as if I needed a support, and dash again up to my bedroom and throw myself onto bed with the book clutched close to my chest. I curl up on my side and around the cookbook, feeling the presence of my mother.
And I begin to sob.
While I know the walls aren't soundproof, it makes me feel better crying with no one around. That way I won't feel their pitiful gazes. I'm hoping that Dad and Gobber explain to Skullette on why I went psycho over the book. This was my mother's book. These were her recopies, that she made just for me. I guess I didn't want anyone else to steal her ideas. Not that Skullette would do that, but, I guess it's the only real thing I have to hold onto on being with my mother. The only real memory I have, and that I can remember. And I don't want anyone else to steal that memory. I clutch to it as hard and as tight as I can clutch the book.
I break out into sobs after sob. Burying into my pillow, letting it absorb every tear I have. I guess I must've dozed off, since the next time I awaken, it's late afternoon, and the smell has faded. The pain from mission at Tower 10 finally activates and I clutch my middle to dull the pain, but it does so little.
I'm sure everyone went home, but I still don't have the courage to face my father. But then I hear heavy footsteps come up the stairs, and before I get the chance to prepare myself, Toothless comes up and when he sees me awake, he comes up and nuzzles my cheek.
I don't hear any other movement downstairs so I assume Dad must be at a war meeting at the Great Hall. Leaving me home alone. I look to my nightstand and notice a bowl of oatmeal along with a thing small vial filled with a green liquid. My medicine. I take a deep breath and while I find the oatmeal hard to swallow since it was cold, I force it down and the medicine not long after it. Even with the oatmeal, I can still taste it and nearly cough it all back up. But I force my stomach to hold it in.
Suddenly I feel that same cold sensation I felt when I was in Goathy's tent as she was healing me. This must be the same drug she used to help ease the immense pain I felt with my arm wound. Drowsiness quickly kicks in minutes after I take the liquid. Toothless licks my cheek and like I dreamt, he turns in a circle before lying down on the floor at the foot of my bed.
Slowly I lower myself down until I feel the pillow under my head. My eyes close; I can almost hear the monsters calling me and I'm out cold. In my dream, I'm running through a field of parchment flowers. The sky's a deep navy blue. It gives off an ominous feeling against the light brown paper field. I keep running until I trip and fall and roll on the hill. When I open my eyes, I'm still on the hill, right next to what I supposedly tripped over. Like never even rolled anywhere.
The wind whispers to me. I had found a grave brushed off the face. And it's as if I seem to know this place. I push myself up and walk on. I soon come to find a bird, closing her eyes so slowly. And she dissipates like mist. There's a distant roar and I look to the skies and see dragons, Night Furies, soaring through the gray clouds. I can see them as clear as day. I run in the direction they fly. I manage to keep up despite the blazing speed they seem to have.
My longing to join them surges through me, and I jump and idiotically flap my arms. I even close my eyes and think about growing wings. But nothing happens and I'm still running. But I will find a way, even without wings. I can feel that we're coming towards the end of the dream and I want to try and fly before it's over. Let me stay I beg whatever orders me to wake up. I know exactly what lies beyond my sleeping refuge. The nightmare that I've build my own world to escape form.
Suddenly, I've fallen off the edge of the cliff, and I'm falling into darkness. I beg for someone, anyone to catch me. I feel a sense of panic control me. I want her to catch me, say she's here and it's all over now. I speak to the atmosphere, but no one's here and I fall into myself. This truth drives me into a near state of paranoia. I know I can stop the pain if I weal it all away.
Things morph and shape different. The ground rumbles beneath my feet. And I know I'm not in my dreamland anymore. I'm somewhere else. I can feel the presence of Outcasts before I see them. My head hurts and my chest does too. I can't turn away, but I can't give into the pain. With no weapon, I need to get away.
"Don't try to hide!" someone rings out. "Though they're screaming your name."
Things turn to worse as I turn in a circle and come face to face with the end of a brutal battle. Bloody, mutilated bodies lie on the ground. Some have weapons still lodged in them. Fallen dragons at my feet, and voices whisper at my ear. They all come crashing down in midflight. There's nothing but death before my eyes. Alvin reins on a mountain top, Toothless's dead body sprawled across the dirt. His laugh mocks me. He has burned my paradise.
She beckons me, shall I give in?
Forsaken all I've fallen for, I rise to meet the end. But if I fall, than all is lost.
The ground vibrates and a giant crack splits between my legs. I jump to one side just as flames erupt from below.
"Don't look down, don't look into the eyes of the world beneath you!" the voice calls. "You'll become their sacrifice!"
But something pulls me down, and I feel the flames tickle my skin. Falling in the black, slipping through the cracks. Falling to the depth, beyond worrying if I can ever go back. No one will hear me scream from the abyss.
Something feels different. Instead of feeling a burning sensation. I feel nothing. There aren't even flames anymore. There's just pitch black. When darkness falls, pain is all there is. In the distance, there's a whisper. I catch the scent of a flower. I breathe in and it gets stronger. Breathing life, I'm waking up. I'm afraid to open my eyes, afraid I'll see nothing but death and blackness. But I breathe in the scent of the sweet flower. My eyes open up.
Comatose. I feel so ragged and jaded. My while body so wrecked and moist with sweat. I'm paralyzed. Immobilized by my fear. I slowly push myself on numb arms and wipe my forehead with my blanket. Toothless is gone, and I panic. But before I can move, my head spins. I wait until everything has settled into focus. I look to my left and the book has not moved. But the sky has changed back to early morning.
Footsteps bound the stairs and Dad comes up with a glass of yak milk. "Morning son." He says.
"Morning." I utter with a dry throat.
He hands me the glass and I slowly drink it down. Even when I finish and hand it back to him, he puts it on my bedside table and he sits at the end of my bed. When he sits, it sends spikes of pain through my chest.
I wince and he asks, "Still sore?"
"A little." I say. "How long was I out?"
"Well, after we had brought you back to Berk, you were asleep on medication for about a day or two. Then after your little episode, you were out again for another day. So about three total." He finalizes.
"Was there a bad wound?" I ask.
"No. None. That arrow never even hit you. Skullette made sure to that." He confirms. Then he goes on to tell me that it wasn't the Outcast kneeling in front of me, but someone more from the far back of the crowd. There was less a sense of penetration than feeling like I'd been struck by a sledgehammer. Or bludgeon. Everything after that was chaos riddled with shouts and screams. Then I blacked out.
I was badly bruised, but to everyone, it's a minor injury compared to what they thought had happened. I was out cold the entire trip back, and since I was unconscious, Toothless had to ride back with me on the boat. It's strangely comforting to know that I rode back with my best friend. Even if it wasn't by flying. And after my psycho episode, I was drugged apparently and I was so overloaded with different emotions on my mother, control was the last thing on my mind.
I lower my head and mumble, "I'm sorry, Dad." He turns to me and I lift my head to meet his gaze. "I had no right to yell at Skullette. It was very rude of me, and I'm sorry."
He places a gentle hand on my shoulder, "It's alright son, and I'm sorry too. I should've known that bringing out your mother's old cookbook would've had some negative effects on you; especially when you were on medication." He says.
"How's Skullette?" I ask.
He smiles, "She's fine, son. We explained everything, but you do still owe her n apology."
"I know." I agree. He doesn't have to tell me twice. Toothless blazes up the steps and throws half his body on me, licking and purring. "H-hey toothless!" I say through a laugh.
"He certainly was worried about you." Dad says as I push Toothless off me.
"Really?" I ask while wiping dragon drool off my face. "How?"
"Well he just wouldn't stop howling until we came to check on me. Glad he did too; you gave us a little scare last night." He tells. "You were sweating and breathing awkwardly. Thought you were having some reaction to the medicine."
"Well, in a way I was." I admit.
"Bit of a bad dream?" he asks
"More like an intensified, traumatizing dream." I say, and my voice catches at the end and tears sting my eyes.
My dad comes closer and encloses me in his arms, and then I totally break down. I burst into tears, and practically fall apart in his arms. I clutch his arm for dear life, as if waiting for myself to fall unconscious again, but I stay awake as the effects of the medicine have worn off. I sob uncontrollably as my dad rubs my back, and waits until I'm done. He doesn't tell me to stop, or brush me off. He lets me cry until I'm all drained.
When I am done, I struggle into an upright position. I ruffle my hair in an attempt to ease my throbbing temple. He coaxes a glass of water into me, and after I regain my breath, I blow my nose into some tissue and wipe my eyes. I tell him all about my dream and what happened and what I saw. Even he seems surprised, as what I describe is far too disturbing and twisted for a sixteen-year-old boy. He decides to take extra caution when out on missions and while he suggests going to Goathy for a different medicine, I refuse it.
Then for the rest of the morning, up until mid-afternoon, we spend the time going through my mother's old recopies. He tells me stories of when I was little and when we were actually a happy family. Or happier, to be fair. Some tears were shed, but it truly feel like we've bonded a little and that I really do have a father. My real father that I had thought I lost after the death of my mother.
Soon Gobber comes over to collect Dad for yet another gathering at the Great Hall. When Dad asks if I want to go, while I would like to know what the plans are for me after what happened on Outcast Island, I'd really rather walk around the village. After three days of just lying in bed, I want to get outside and stretch my legs. But not after Dad coaxes a few slices of bread and an egg into me.
I dress into some clean clothes and walk outside, allowing the autumn breeze infect my nose and chill my bones. Before I head into town, I stop next door to Skullette's house after I see Chief Boggs leave for the war meeting. I walk up and am about to knock, when the door swings open, startling me. Skullette is standing behind the door, with a bow in her hands and a sheath slung over her shoulder. How she feels about seeing me varies.
"Uh, hey Skullette," I start.
"Hey Hiccup," she responds. It doesn't sound mad or robotic, especially after Dad and Gobber had explained to her about my mother. But one emotion I can sense is surprise.
"Listen Skullette, I wanted to apologize to you. What I did and sad was totally childish and stupid, and completely unnecessary. I know you were only trying to help and I'm so grateful that-"
Before I even finish my sentence, I feel her lips pres against mine, and her arms grip my shoulder. I'm taken my surprise at first, but then I slowly process and my arms wrap around her torso. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss, and I hold her cheek with one hand. As she rests her hands on my chest, we part and press our foreheads together. Her scent is infectious. And it wasn't until a breeze kicks up that I smell a familiar smell. A flower. Honeysuckle.
My eyes fly open and I move my forehead away. I stare at her in disbelief. She doesn't
look confused, but instead, it's like she can see me piece together the puzzle in my head.
She was there while I was dreaming. She was the one I heard. The voice from my dreams. Maybe she wasn't speaking exactly, or not at all. But it was her voice that I heard, the voice that pulled me out from the dark of the abyss. She was there for me even when I was out cold. She was there. She held my hand in the darkness, and pulled me out into the light. Skullette must really be the one for me if that can happen.
But then I drift to the matter that she was there. My dad said that I was sweating and breathing weird. That must've been weird to watch. And in person, watching the one you love wimp and cry for someone to help them in a dream that they can't reach.
I temporarily switch our roles. I'm the one watching her and she's sweating and breathing. Calling to someone to help. How useless and helpless I would feel. How she must've felt. I look her in the eye and lean in.
"I'm so sorry." I whisper.
She lets loose a sniff but no tears come out. She's stronger than I am, that's for sure.
With another kiss, we leave her front porch hand-in-hand. She invites me to go to the woods with her, but I have to deny since Dad gave me direct orders from Goathy to not do any harsh physical activities for at least a week. I don't disobey since the bruises seem to kill me with simple movements. So instead I walk into town to the blacksmith shop. It's probably the only place I can seek refuge.
The hearth is dead since Gobber's up in the Great Hall going over war plans with my dad. With no activity here to jumble me, I stay until it's early evening. The medicine Goathy has me on tends to make me see things. Apart from the twisted nightmare I had with Alvin, the day before I woke up to the smell of my mother's cooking, I had hallucinated that my entire floor had been transformed into a carpet of Fireworm Dragons.
I would've commented, but I'm afraid that just asking alone would earn me a trip back to bed and to the drug-induced dreamland I'm trying so hard to escape from. I don't want to switch since I'm honestly scared of what other concoctions Goathy has locked away in her trunks.
I'm about to walk into the Plaza when hear Spitelout, Snotlout's Dad, calls me over and says I'm needed in the Great Hall. I report immediately and once I enter the hall, I take a seat next to dad.
"Is everything okay?" I ask.
"Actually, we're here to give you some news, son." Dad says.
"Well, already this doesn't sound good." I sarcastically say.
"It's not. For you." Dad says. "You see Hiccup, with your new injuries, while they may be mediocre at best, we feel that it's best that you stay here on Berk, while our soldiers go back the Outcast Island for the takeover of both Tower 9 and Tower 8."
"What?!" I exclaim springing out of my chair. "Are you serious?!"
"Hiccup . . ." Dad starts, but I cut him off.
"Look Dad, you need me to be there when you take over! I'm the Dragon Conqueror!" I argue.
"Look Hiccup, you're in no condition for combat." Dad says.
"He's right Hiccup. Those bruises will be bad for you if you're fighting an Outcast." Goober interjects.
"So let me get this straight. Just because I have a few bruises on my ribs, that means I can't go into battle, while you all ride in with only two to three/forth's of your limbs available?" I protest.
"It's not the same, Hiccup. These men have all experienced war before. They know how to handle themselves in combat when at a disadvantage." Dad explains.
"But I can't just sit here and let the Outcasts think that they've won by killing me! I need to show them I'm still alive and still fighting!" I say.
"That's why after we invade these towers, we'll bring you back into battle for the rest of the invasions." Dad says.
I'm not making a big deal out of this. It may just be two towers I'm missing. But in reality, even with the dragons as transportation, I'll be missing at least a week or two of battles and missions. If I'm gone that long, then the Outcasts will think I'm done. I will give none of them the satisfaction of them thinking they've ended me.
"Dad please, one tower. Just one! Then I'll fly back with Toothless and I'll follow through with your orders." I beckon.
"Hiccup,"
"Dad, please. I won't even have to even help with the tower. I'll just fly in after everything and just burn the insignia into the wall. Please Dad I-I can't let them think they've won. Let Alvin think he's won." I say.
"He hasn't won, Hiccup. And besides, don't you think that losing you would be a bigger disadvantage for him than you?" he asks me.
I pause and think. Could this be true? Would Alvin thinking I'm dead be better for the Vikings than the Outcasts? The only reason why he wants me is so that I can help him train dragons. My knowledge is all he wants from me. If he thinks I'm dead, will it leave him with no motive? Possibly even lead to a surrender since he lost his prize? It's definitely something to think about.
I don't reply, so Dad goes on. "If Alvin thinks you're dead, then he'll have no reason to fight us anymore, since all he wants is your knowledge of dragons. And just imagine the surprise when you suddenly emerge, all healed and strong." Dad says.
It would be an okay plan at best, if it weren't for the fact that my death has already paved the road for a possible surrender. That my 'alleged' murder has already given the Vikings a victory. It just brings me right back to thinking that dying is the only way to end the war and ensure victory. And now I'm starting to rethink this whole thing. If I emerge, than Alvin will keep trying to fight for me. But if I pretend to dead, then Alvin has lost his entire motive for fighting the Vikings in the first place.
I can't seem to find an answer, so I agree with my dad to stay home for both missions.
The next morning, I rise with Dad to wave him off at the docks. I notice that Gobber has been left behind as well. Probably so he can chaperone me while Dad's off in combat.
"Looks like we're both missing in action, huh Gobber?" I ask with a smile. And yet I feel a little guilty since he should be aiding my father.
With Gobber, I know dad will have some form of protection. But I take notice that Chief Boggs is with Dad, so that eases my nerves. After the ships have long sailed out of sight, I return with Gobber to the house. But I only stop to pick up some charcoal pencils for the blacksmith shop. While Dad's off, I plan to update that old map I stole from Tower 10. At least with the little shop in the back of the Blacksmith shop, I know I'll have privacy.
Unfortunately, the solitude was short-lived since it only took me a mere hour to update the map, Trading routes and all. Not as time consuming as I'd hoped. So I pack a normal bow and a sheath of normal arrows and head into town. I drop off my Dragon Conqueror suit to Bertha, and head into the woods where I plan to meet Skullette. At least the stay left me with plenty of time to spend with her.
We decide to have a little picnic together in The Cove. We pack and also hunt for food and bring a few blankets. A daylong picnic with my girlfriend. I like the sound of that. We eat. We talk. We hunt. We lie in the sun. Skullette snaps a few vines off of the rocks and uses her newfound knowledge she got from Gobber to make knots, weave nets, and even inescapable baskets for catching fish. I sketch her in the sunlight, and secretly when she dozes off for a nap. We even go swimming in the water. We splash back and forth, and we even make up a game where one person has to shoot a fish in the water, only using one arrow and you get three tries. Loser has to admit something embarrassing about them.
No one comes looking for us, and by the end of the day, she's lying with her head in my lap, weaving a crown of flowers, and her feet dipped in the water. I'm simply leaning back on my hands, my dead dropped back, letting the sun burn my face. Funny thing is that I don't burn as easily as me or my dad both thought.
I hear Skullette's hands go still and I lift my head and see she's dozed off again. I let her be and fiddle with her hair while she's asleep. When twilight is closing in, I rouse her to see the sunset. It's a beautiful pink, purple, orange and yellow blaze behind the skyline of the trees. The pink is closest to the horizon, then slowly morphing into orange, yellow. The clouds are a faded purple and the trees just look black.
After the moon rises, I hop on Toothless and we ride back to the village where I tuck Skullette in and kiss her goodnight. Instead of going home, I head back to the Cove with Toothless to clean up our mess. Once that's done, we walk through the forest together. He's no more than a couple inches behind me. When he nudges my arm, I give his head a scratch.
Things seem okay until we reach a familiar section of the woods, but something feels off. I look around and his ears perk up. I take a step forward and the ground feels, softer.
"Something's not right bud." I say and he purrs in response.
I look all around and my curiosity grows. It's like I'm back in time, back in the woods when I had first shot down Toothless. I was looking at a deep rut in the ground, claw marks on trees and tree roots. It feels like that. Like I'm looking for something.
When I take a deep step and almost lose my balance, Toothless comes up behind me.
"Thanks bud." I say.
I lift my foot out of a large hole in the ground. If my while foot can fit in there, it must be at least two and a half feet wide, but it's much bigger. I could fit my whole body in there.
"Way too big for a groundhog." I tell Toothless.
I look ahead and there are multiple holes all around. Fifteen yards away from the one by me was another one. Fifteen more yards, yet another. Putting together dome rough numbers, the hole's estimated at about five-six and a half feet in diameter. My palms suddenly feel sweaty, and my instincts tell me we should be heading back, but my curiosity gets the better of me. There's a feeling that's nudging at me.
Something just wasn't adding up. As I walk further down with Toothless not far behind me, I merely trip again but catch myself on a tree. My hand feels hot on the trunk, and when I push off, my hand is covered in singed bark. I look to the tree and find a thick line slashed on to the trunk. It hit part of the branches and then part of the grass a few feet from that. But they were lined up weird. I take step back and try to align them.
I need to squint my eyes to see it, but after I take a step to my right, and line up my thumb. The singe marks make a perfect circle.
My heart sinks, and I feel my stomach turn to ice.
"Alright bud we need to get out of here." I say.
And as if on cue, the ground vibrates. It feels like a mixture of vibration and a roar. All the more reason to get out. I made the mistake of looking back and I'm frightened by what I see. But somehow I know there's much more to come. Toothless is pleading and jumping in front of me to get me to move. But I'm frozen in my place by my fear.
I see a big round head yards in front of us. I'm looking at it from the side and when it turns its head, I feel like I need to take a step back. I feel like I had just trespassed into its territory, and maybe I did.
Within the split second it takes me to realize that, the thing has burrowed beneath the surface. Toothless screeches to get me to snap back and we bolt off running. If I had any common sense I would fly, but I turn and bolt off running. There's a roar and I run faster into a sprint. The ground vibrates.
And as I take my next step, another hole materializes out of nowhere and I plummet in. I scream and Toothless screams even louder in horror and I look up seeing his face mortified. His scream becoming more and more distant. The light of the moon fading along with his shadow.
I swerve and slide in different directions. Afraid of what could be ahead since I'm blinded by darkness. I keep expecting to land into a pit of vipers, or even worse, the flames of hell. I keep screaming as every turn surprises me.
Finally I plummet and crash into an open area at the end of the tunnel. Dirt and clay clouds float up in around me. I cough, forbidding it to enter my lungs. There's the sound of some stones - at least I hope their stones - that tumble around me. There's almost no light except for little moonlight rays that manage to break through the dirt.
"Toothless." I whisper.
There's no answer. Before I can declare that I'm totally alone, there's a rustle of stones. I freeze in place and scoot myself back until I'm pressed against the dirt wall. The space is big enough that I can stand up in it, with the ceiling still at least three feet above my head.
"Toothless." I call again, even though I know it's pointless since he can't even hear me. Let alone help fight off whatever's here.
There's a deep guttural growl. The kind of sound you make from the back of your throat. I feel the ground beneath vibrate. I can see a faint shadow in the distance. The thing turns its head and I squeeze my eyes shut tight and curl up in a ball. Hoping to make myself smaller so it can't see me. But when I reopen them, it's at least three feet from my face. My head jerks back and slams into the dirt wall. I cradle the crown of my head as everything settles into focus. And when it does, my body goes numb.
As I find myself staring into bulging milky eyes, of a Whispering Death.