Chapter 3 The Night Attack

Hey what's up guys. I am back from testing and am extremely proud to be able to release another chapter of White Eyes! I got a little extra time on Sunday to hammer out a good 6,500 words on this chapter so here we are.

Also as a side note- these chapters will be edited and likely expanded a little over the next few weeks since I don't want my unedited writing out there for any new readers to see!

Chapters 3-6 are what I like to call the 'Intro Arc' where we will begin to explore the backstory a bit and where a lot of stuff that sets up the next 10 chapters.

Read, review and enjoy!

Steve hurried along the wooded trail as fast as he could manage. He cursed the hefty pickaxe that was slowing him down and the packaged pork that was making him nauseous. The wind rushed through his hair and plastered his shirt against his skin. He was having trouble moving his legs against the wind. Steve desperately hoped that the wind wouldn't knock him down as he gripped the pork a little tighter and struggled ahead.

Steve had no idea why the wind was blowing so hard, after all the air had been virtually still just a few moments earlier. Steve glanced around him, at least on the plus side it wasn't getting any darker.

"Well at least I'm not having another vision." He said. There was no sign of the 'white eyes' that had so frightened him back in the cart. But what was it then? Why was the wind blowing so hard? Steve was tempted to just go to the rational explanation that the weather was changing and that a storm front was probably approaching. However the day's events had made him more superstitious. Not to mention the fact that Steve's nerves were still shattered by his encounter with the undead back at the strip mine.

Steve struggled ahead along the dirt path. Suddenly a cloud of dust blew up and into his face obscuring his vision. Steve coughed and nearly dropped his items to rub his eyes. Steve grumbled for a moment and stopped, set the pick and the food down and wiped the dust out of his eyes. However, there was a sudden gust of wind and Steve felt a package dully bounce against his leg and crash off into the distance. Steve whirled around just in time to notice that a package of the pork had been blown away into the woods and some of the other packaged meat threatened to do the same. Steve groaned and picked up the meat he had left, he couldn't go get the runaway pork without risking the loss of the rest.

Steve glanced behind him for a moment. There was a strange white light following him. Steve stared at it for a moment before taking a step back. The thing seemed to get closer, it was following him, heedless to the power of the wind that would have blown it back had it been a solid. The thing unnerved Steve, finally losing his nerve he broke and ran – whatever the thing was he wanted no part of it. But his reaction wasn't fast enough.

Suddenly Steve felt a low wind rush through him. He gasped and doubled over as it passed. He felt like he had been touched by something exceedingly cold. It seemed to suck the life out of him. Then he watched with a mixture of awe and fear as the shining white orb appeared from inside his chest cavity. Steve cried out in pain as the thing exited his body. He felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. It was a sensation that he had never before experienced. Steve's insides were on fire, his limbs had been rendered useless and his mind was like jelly- he had never felt so helpless or in so much pain. But like that, it was over, the orb had finally made its exit and slowly floated away from him.

"Aaaah!" he cried, clutching at his chest. He felt smaller somehow. What he had just experienced was like nothing Steve had experienced before. He felt like a hand had reached into his chest and pulled something out of it- something of great value.

Steve felt exceedingly tired, as if he had done a full day's work in the garden or the like. He couldn't imagine why but he felt slower somehow after that last blast of wind. Steve slowly looked up; everything had gone quiet. Steve didn't even feel the wind blowing against his body anymore.

Steve lay on the ground for a full minute, his chest heaving. His heart was pounding against his chest. His heart was beating so loudly that Steve could hear every beat. Sweat dripped from his forehead, it was as if Steve had just run a ten kilometer race. Steve slowly looked around the woodlands, fully expecting a zombie or some other horrible creature to come out and finish him off. He watched and waited, nothing was forthcoming.

Steve slowly sat up. His nerves were shot. His chest hurt. His arms hurt. His head hurt. His mind was fuzzy. Fear consumed him. Steve looked at his hands; they were shaking even though he wasn't moving them. What was going on? Steve thought fearfully. What was that white light? Why had he felt so much pain? The endless questions rebounded over and over in his mind. It was all a mess. Yesterday life was normal, and today he had almost been killed twice once by an undead and now by some ball of white light.

Steve was afraid to move, he felt like something was watching him in the woods. Slowly Steve stood up and grabbed the iron pick his grandfather had bought for him. If anything was going to attack him, he would fight it just as his grandfather had fought the zombie.

"A-a-anyone there?" he asked nervously, glancing around at the surrounding woodlands. There was no response. There wasn't a breeze or any hint of anything malicious. This soothed Steve's nerves slightly. Steve took a deep breath and slowly began to collect himself.

Suddenly a wave of nausea overcame him. Steve felt sick to his stomach. His nerves were tingling and his stomach was churning. Steve abruptly dropped the pickaxe and put a hand to his mouth. He was going to be sick. Steve stumbled over towards a nearby bush and heaved three times. He stopped and panted for several moments before throwing a stray branch over the disgusting spectacle and trekked back and picked up his items.

But as he walked back to his spot he heard a loud crackling sound in the woods ahead of him. Steve nearly jumped out of his shoes at this and ran for his pickaxe. Was it another zombie? Right as Steve put his fingers around the handle a familiar face appeared nearby with a wide smile on his face.

"Hey." The man said. He was walking towards him now. "You okay?" he asked, cocking his head at Steve. Steve stared at him for a moment. The man was wearing thoroughly beat up clothes of brown and blue, a hat of messy black hair obscured part of his face and he had an iron axe strapped to his back. It was his old friend, Nick. The sight of his friend recalled something that Horace had told Steve earlier- that any zombie would burn to death in the daytime.

"I- what do you want?" Steve demanded, holding the pickaxe in a defensive posture. Nick rolled his eyes at this.

"What do you think I'm doing here smart one? I just got back from cutting wood in that forest. Today I get half the day off- boss was in an extra good mood apparently. Really, what are you doing here? Did you go into town or something?"

Steve stared at him for a full minute, holding the pick at Nick's chest. It took several moments for him to calm down and lower the pickaxe.

"Uh – yeah me and grandfather, we um- yeah we did some mining near Darton. He sent me back here to store some stuff we bought."

"Oh you mean this?" Nick asked, bending over and picking one of the wrapped parcels of pork. "You should take better care of this. Smells fresh."

"I-I was." Steve replied.

"Well duh." Nick replied "Alright then, what's the problem? Obviously something's bothering you. You look pale as ashes, you've got sick on your chin, not to mention the fact that you're stuttering like a two year old."

"R-really?" Steve asked, picking up a meat parcel before Nick stopped him.

"Yeah you do. What's wrong?"

"I- it's hard to explain…" Steve admitted.

"You're going home right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm coming with you." Nick replied.
"Thanks." Steve said gratefully.

"Not at all, you look like you're scared out of your mind. Whatever it was it must've been pretty spooky."

"Y-you could say that again." Steve replied as Nick took the rest of the meat, put some of it in his pack and carried the rest of it in his arms. Steve shouldered the pickaxe.

"Alright, what happened to you?" Nick asked.

"I-" Steve paused. This was going to be hard to explain, even to Nick. As Horace had said, he had a feeling that Nick wasn't going to believe him. "I got attacked."

"By what? Not one of Ms. Dooms-Patterson's wolves again? She says she has those things trained but they're vicious…" Nick interjected. He smiled briefly, but gave up the act when met with Steve's flat gaze. "Sorry, just trying to lighten the tension a little-"

"You want to know what happened or not? In fact, you want to really know something? I almost died!"

"What!" Nick exclaimed. "Steve, mate…"

"Yes I did. I got some creepy vision of white eyes, got attacked by a zombie, and oh yeah I almost got killed by some white orb! That's what happened to me." Nick stared at him for a few moments. There was no doubting the seriousness in Steve's voice, or the fear in his voice.

"A zombat? What?"

"Zombie." Steve corrected him. As he said it Steve imagined his grandfather groaning at his recklessness. "Yeah, me and my grandfather went out to a mine this morning. He's teaching me-" Steve explained, hoisting the pickaxe "and after mining a few blocks I got attacked by a zombie! It was horrible. It was a man, but dead and full of holes and blood everywhere…" Steve fell silent for a moment "It almost killed me but my grandfather stopped it and the thing died after exploding into flames." Nick was silent. Steve went on with his story "Before that I had a vision in Nate's wagon. I saw a hundred pairs of white eyes staring at me – it was freaky…they kept chanting Etihw Seye or White Eyes over and over again. Then I fainted, and I was out for twenty minutes!"

"What happened, just now?" Steve took a breath, not a deep one for the risk of being sick again and continued.

"I was just walking- home you know with all this stuff and I felt the wind blowing harder and harder. The forest was getting darker, like the woods – it was getting colder…and colder. Then I felt that something was off- aside from that, like something was following me. I looked back and this white orb…I can't describe it any other way was floating at me. I tried to get away but it passed right through me." Steve paused "It felt like something was sucked out of my chest. I- it hurt badly…I couldn't move. I was terrified, like the way you found me. And then you were there- I thought you were a zombie at first…" Steve trailed off and fell silent. There was a quiet pause for several seconds.

"I- I don't know mate…" Nick said "This all happened today?"

"Y-yeah." Steve replied.

"And I thought I had a bad day…" Nick murmured "You mentioned that you saw white eyes. My older brothers used to tell me the story about White Eyes when I misbehaved. If you don't behave old White Eyes is gonna come get you while you're asleep! One night I swore I saw a pair of white eyes looking at me from the window- it scared the Nether out of me. Mum came and found my brothers flashing round shaped iron ingots through the window. Haven't trusted them ever since."

"Yeah right- well I actually saw it. I swear. I was riding in Nate's cart- he's back from Auckland or somewhere apparently," Nick whistled at this "and then I went into this trance. My ears were ringing and there were hundreds of pairs of white eyes- well you know the rest of it…"

"Sounds like you were seeing things." Nick observed.

"Really?" Steve said with heavy sarcasm.

"Alright, yeah I know. Okay I believe you Steve." He said putting an arm around him.

"No you don't." Steve mumbled.

"Yeah well I'm trying too." Nick replied "You looked scared out of your mind and from what I remember you were never a very good actor so something bad must have happened. Like that- uh- the zombie?"

"You can say that again." Steve replied "My grandfather told me not to tell anyone about it. But its real I swear. In fact, I should show you the place where it came from."

"No way!" Nick exclaimed, "I'll take your word for it."

"You should see it." Steve replied. He felt his frustration rising, would no one ever believe him? Couldn't his friend at least take him seriously?

"What? The zombat's-"

"Zombie."

"The zombie's…that's still there?" Nick asked. "I thought you said it burned up."

"Parts of it did." Steve said cryptically. "We can drop the stuff off here." He said with a repulsed face from the smell of the meat "And I can show you the site where it happened."

"Alright. Sure." Nick replied "Why not? I need a little adventure in my life anyway."

"Too much of this adventure could kill you." Steve said warningly. Nick chuckled, and finally the dark mood upon the conversation finally began to lift.

"You said you nearly died back there. Are you sure you're not hurt or anything? Not turning into a zombie or something?" Nick asked as the pair reached the gate of Horace's house.

"How would you feel after nearly dying?" Steve said flatly. Nick gave a weak laugh,

"Not too good I guess. I haven't had many of those experiences so you're the expert there." He said, following behind Steve who had opened the gate for him.

"Don't remind me." Steve said darkly.

Quickly the two bounded up to the porch and entered the house.

"Where's the icebox?" Nick asked looking around the incredibly cluttered kitchen.

Horace was not known for his organizational skills and neither was Steve. This fact was made very apparent by the fact that towels were littered around the kitchen and various cooking ingredients were stored anywhere they would fit. Even so, Steve had mastered his way around the kitchen, and thankfully large things like the icebox almost never moved mainly because it took a lot of effort to put them somewhere else.

"Let's see…this way." Steve said, navigating through the tangled kitchen to landing, which led to the basement. "It's down there," Steve said, pausing to light a torch "small gray box, really cold. Can't miss it."

"Not with that description." Nick said as he descended the short landing and returned a moment later having deposited all the meat packages in the right place. "Give me a moment, got to wash the smell out." He said, hurrying upstairs where the loo was. Steve paused and sniffed his own clothes, as far as he could tell the smell hadn't rubbed off on him.

Steve glanced around the house for a moment. He had the strong temptation just to stay inside it for a few months; after all he was safe inside. But after what had just happened in the woods Steve had a feeling that there was more to the story, just as he did after the encounter with the zombie.

He felt his chest in the spot where the orb had run him through. Everything was normal, his heart was beating, maybe a little too quickly but there wasn't anything missing. He didn't feel any pain. Steve sighed and leaned against the wall. What would Horace say when he told him about the latest events? He would obviously be concerned, but what else? Would they have to move? Or would things return to normal as they had been for eighteen years?

Suddenly Steve heard Nick bounding down the staircase.

"Ready to go?" Steve asked once Nick had reappeared.

"Whenever you are." Nick replied.

"Let's go." Steve said, determination entering his voice. Not only did Steve want to see the site to show Nick what had happened but also to find out for himself if there were any more of the zombies lurking around. "How good are you with that axe?" he asked.

"Steve, mate I'm a lumberjack. I'm the best there is! By the way are you going to leave that pickaxe here?"

"No it might come in handy. Besides grandfather wanted me to practice some more…" Steve trailed off.

With that the two companions went back the way they came. Steve went the same way Horace had earlier that day towards the strip mine. But this time, Steve was careful to look out for the edge from the last time where he had made an abrupt crash landing in the mine. Steve walked around the perimeter for a moment before finding a dirt trail which led smoothly downwards into the strip mine. Nick whistled.

"I didn't know this mine was here." He said with a laugh "And this close by! Alright- so where's the rest of this zombie you were talking about?"

"It's not here…" Steve muttered. The pile of ashes that marked the remains from the zombie had disappeared, the odor of burned flesh was long gone, and even the streak of blood that had marked the stone had disappeared. It made sense that the smell had faded away but the blood, and the ashes that couldn't have disappeared by itself. Besides, it hadn't rained since the previous night. Had the site been tampered with?

"It was right here." Steve said gesturing to the ground "I swear, there was a streak of blood and everything!"

"Maybe the ashes got blown away or something." Nate suggested.

"Blood doesn't blow away." Steve said darkly. Nate just looked at him helplessly.

"I don't know Steve. What do you want me to do?"

"We have to mine it. There's got to be more of them somewhere." Steve said.

"Mine it? Wait hang on, are you saying that we have to look around to find more zombies?"

"Yeah, I guess that's exactly what I'm saying." Steve said, looking Nick right in the eye.

"I've received better offers…" Nick grumbled "Alright what do you want me to do then?"

"Guard. You've got the axe and like you said you know how to use it." Steve replied.

"So let me get this straight, we're looking for man eating zombies that existed thousands of years ago because you encountered one today." Nick said.

"Yeah, and if you don't believe me then you can leave." Steve said heatedly. Nick sighed,

"Alright I'll stand guard." He said pulling out his axe and holding it in one hand. "Where were you going to look though?"

"Around." Steve replied, taking off for the darkest end of the strip mine with Nick behind him.

Steve searched everywhere that he could think of. He looked in the nearby fields, in the darkest places of the strip mine and even a little in the nearby woodlands. He had been looking for two full hours and had yet to find a single zombie or anything else unusual save for a musty pink hat which they speedily disposed of. The sun was beginning to sink into the hillside as Steve dropped his pick and panted after finishing off the stone block he was mining. Steve had mined out blocks all over the strip mine in search of some dark cave or something where the horrible things might have come from but to no avail.

"Didn't find anything?" Nick asked, stepping next to Steve.

"Nothing." Steve said. "I don't know where it came from."

"That's alright with me." Nick said. This made Steve laugh a little. He was a little glad he didn't find anything too.

"Grandfather said they didn't like the light…" Steve murmured.

"What?" Nick asked. "Look Steve, it's late, it'll be night in a little bit." He said gesturing to the sky which had turned a dull pink.

"Oh yeah- right." Steve said, grabbing his pick and trudging through the dirt path and out of the mine. He cursed softly. It was around eight thirty by his reckoning and far too late to go back into the woods. Steve wished he hadn't disobeyed his grandfather's instructions- if he had just stayed inside the house like a good boy then he wouldn't have the problem of going through the woods at night. Strange things had always happened in the woodlands near their house but Steve never thought he would almost die there in daytime! It made him even more frightened of what could happen to him at night.

Steve glanced towards the woods. The trees swayed in the wind, and beckoned with sinister shapes from the lack of lighting. Steve shuddered and decided to see if his grandfather was still in town. At least there was decent lighting there, not to mention other people.

"Where are you going?" Nick asked.

"Town." Steve replied.

"Don't want to go through the woods again huh? I don't blame you." Nick replied "Creepy place. But if it wasn't there I'd be out of a job." He chuckled. This statement piqued Steve's interest.

"Did you ever see anything strange in the woods before?" he asked.

"You mean did I ever see a bunch of floating balls of white light coming to kill me? Or a hundred pairs of white eyes? No I haven't." Nick replied. They were getting closer to the town now. Steve could see hundreds of torches flaring up as the townspeople prepared for the night. "Speaking of which, where are you going?"

"The Inn of the Lonely Dragon." Steve replied. "My grandfather- he said he's visiting a friend there, it's about the zombie- thing."

"Ohh…" Nick said "Well stay safe okay? I've got get home…they're probably all wondering where in the name of Notch I am anyway."

"I'll try to." Steve said with a weak smile.

"Listen, Steve." Nick said. They were almost in the town limits now. A stray torch lit the ground near them giving Nick's face an orange glow. "I believe you, I do. As hard as it is to believe what you told me I don't think you're lying."

"You don't huh?" Steve asked, not entirely convinced. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Nah." Nick smiled "Listen, I've never seen anyone as scared as you were just then in the forest. My brothers haven't scared me that bad- and they've played some nasty pranks before… But yeah, let's just say I'll be on the lookout tonight."

"Thanks." Steve replied. "I just don't know what's going on…"

"Believe me mate, neither do I." Nick said. "Take care of yourself Steve." Steve gave him a small wave as they parted ways, Nick heading over to his small residence on the outskirts of town and Steve to the tall dark building of the Lonely Dragon Inn.

His grandfather had said that he would be in town quite late to talk to Nate and the mayor about the incident at the cave. Perhaps his grandfather was still around. Steve hoped so; otherwise he'd be spending the night at Nick's rather than chance another trip into the woods. However, sleeping on the hard floor or on a bale of hay at Nick's place was one of the last thing's Steve wanted to do especially when his home was crowded enough with seven family members.

Steve walked onto the main road in Darton. The sun had finally sunk beneath the sky. It was nine o'clock and the torches all around the town had been lit. There was hardly a sound save for the occasional crackling of a torch or the howl of a wolf.

Steve scanned the buildings for a moment. There it was, the Lonely Dragon Inn, painted in white letters on a board that swung lightly in the wind. Suddenly there was a low boom, followed by a distant rumble of thunder. Steve looked up and felt something wet splat against his nose. This was promptly followed by several more and multiple dark spots appearing on his teal blue shirt. It took him several moments to realize it was raining.

Steve cursed and hurried over to the patio of the inn where he paused, caught his breath and stepped inside. At first the warm atmosphere, the murky air, and the strong smell of ale nearly overwhelmed Steve as he walked inside. Steve paused for a moment, blinked and glanced around the inn. There were several people sitting at one table, playing dice, and another two in the corner drinking quietly. Steve didn't recognize any of these faces but he didn't have to look much farther to see one he did, that of the innkeeper Enoch. Enoch was drying several glasses before he looked up to see Steve at the entrance, and his face broke out into a wide smile.

"Steve!" Enoch boomed. Several people at the table glanced at him for a moment before turning away and returning to their business. Steve glanced at the floor for a moment before looking back at the innkeeper.

"It's good to see you Enoch." Steve said. The innkeeper was a hefty, muscular man who also happened to be Horace's cousin. He was the kind of man who held two personalities, one extremely bouncy and kind and the other grumpy and short tempered. Steve was fortunate to be on his good side, and he took measures to stay there as he did enjoy Enoch's company.

"Well Steve what'll it be?" Enoch asked as Steve came up to the counter.

"Sorry?"
"To drink my dear boy!" the innkeeper chuckled.

"Oh –er I'm here for a different reason actually." Steve explained.

"Ah, you wouldn't be looking for my cousin now would you?"

"Yeah I'm looking for him. Is he here? He said he was visiting a friend-"

"He's here, in the eleventh room with that traveler. Queer folk; don't trust them as far as you could throw a boulder. They're full of ideas; cause nothing but trouble in my opinion."

"Yeah… he just got back from Auckland apparently." Steve paused.

"Mining are we?" Enoch asked, glancing at the pickaxe Steve was holding in his right hand.

"Oh yeah, uh it's a bit heavy. Do you mind if I leave it here?" Steve asked, hoisting up the pick and setting it down as gently as possible on the bar's surface.

"Better than that, I'll safeguard it for you." Enoch said, grabbing the handle of the pick and taking it over to a nearby chest and placing it there. "Your grandfather told me you were doing mining. Good work mining; it'll make you really appreciate raw, hard work."

"Oh it's definitely done that." Steve said, rubbing his arm, Enoch chuckled at this. Steve hadn't been paying attention to it but the weight of the pick had greatly strained his arm. Steve made a mental note to not carry the thing in one hand for too long. "Thanks."
"My pleasure Steve, my pleasure." Enoch said, returning to his tasks. As Steve headed upstairs he could have sworn he heard him mutter "Auckland…burn me, the ideas those people get in their heads…"

There were four levels in the Lonely Dragon. One was where the bar, the tables and the dining area were- Steve had just left that part. The second and third levels were the rooms, with ten rooms on each level. And the fourth level was the balcony, which also served as room for extra tables when the barroom was full. Therefore, by Steve's reckoning the eleventh room was the first one on the third floor.

Steve bounded up the winding staircase, past the second level and shortly reached the third level. Steve could hear muffled fragments of conversation coming from inside.

"I told you what I saw Nate-"

"Do you think- wise to tell him-"

"Of course it – is!"

Were they talking about the zombie? Steve wondered. It was what Horace said he had planned to talk with him about. Do you think – wise to tell him… Steve repeated the words in his mind. Did they discover something important about what was going on and didn't plan to tell him about it? There was only one way to find out.

"That's impossible Nate!" Horace exclaimed. But before Nate could respond the door flew open and Steve walked into the room. "Steve! What in the name of – what the devil are you doing here boy?! I told you to stay at home!" Horace hissed. Steve just looked at him nonchalantly.

"If you're talking about the zombie that's every bit as much my business as it is yours." Horace glared at him, infuriated. His cheeks had turned a violet color and his eyes had a dangerous twinkle in them.

"Horace- Steve, I-" Nate started. The old man appeared equally startled by Steve's sudden appearance but unlike Horace he was not angry.

"Nate- leave it please!" Horace closed his eyes and mopped his hair with his hand for a moment before turning back to Steve. "You're absolutely right Steven. However I must admit I am shocked that you disobeyed my specific instructions!" Steve ignored him.

"I almost died." He said.

"Steven I am perfectly aware that you almost died. First you see a vision, and then a zombie attacks you out of nowhere. And then you talk back to me- your grandfather, who raised you to be kind, responsible, and obedient. Did none of those lessons get through that head of yours? Good heavens boy I must say something for your attitude. If anyone ought to know that you almost died it would be me wouldn't it? And then I tell you to go straight home, simply out of concern for your safety and then you come all the way back here, at nine twenty at night acting like an entitled teenager! And-" Horace said raising a pudgy finger. His cheeks were completely purple and even his nose had turned a deep red.

"Horace."

"And to add to that-"

"Horace."

"Nate, I must ask you to please not interrupt me while I am talking to Steve. He is my grandson and-"

"Horace! I don't think Steve means what you think!" Nate exclaimed.

"Oh does he now? All right then, out with it boy. Why are you here?" Horace asked. Steve sighed for a moment. He completely understood his grandfather's frustration, especially after what had just happened.

"I'm sorry grandfather, I know I shouldn't have left." He started, "But I had to come back." His grandfather arched an eyebrow at this "I guess I should start from when I left. I was walking down the road when I saw this strange orb of white light coming towards me. I didn't know what it was but I was afraid. It was eerie. I tried to run away but it followed me- and ran through my body." Steve explained "It hurt really badly. I felt like something was being sucked out of my chest, although…I don't know what it was. I felt a scorching pain everywhere. I couldn't move, talk or even think. But just like that, it was over and I was okay- after being a little sick. Then Nick found me by chance and I told him about what happened on the way back, where we put the meat in the icebox. After that we went to the strip mine again and I showed him where you fought the zombie grandfather, but nothing was left, not even a trace. I thought it was strange, you know because the zombie's blood had disappeared, although it would have taken a strong rain to wash it away. So, Nick and I searched the surrounding area but we didn't find anything. By that time it was dusk and I had two choices, to head back through the forest or to come here, and that's what happened." Steve finished.

Horace stared at him for a moment. After a few minutes his nose began to deflate, and his cheeks regained their normal reddish hue. Nate cocked his head at Steve, a concerned look on his face.

"Steve I- I'm sorry…I shouldn't have sent you out there like that…I didn't know," Horace said before breaking into a short fit of coughing.

"You said you saw a ball of white light Steve?" Nate asked his voice grave.

"Yeah I did." Steve replied.
"The situation is worse than you told me Horace…" Nate murmured, putting a finger to his lips. The sound of laughter echoed from the ground floor, clearly someone down there was having a good time.

"What? The situation is worse? Nate?" Horace asked.

"One time during my travels I encountered a destitute family. They were of course one of many in the world. That fact about them did not interest me." Nate said, the old man was pacing around the room now. He walked over to the window and looked out onto the road below. "They were once a rich family, very powerful and very wealthy people. But they came under a curse, as they had told me. One day the father- he was absent when I talked to them but he was riding through a lonely road near the town. As he was riding he had a feeling someone was following him. It was, like Steve described a strange white orb that no matter how hard he urged his horse to go he could not get away from. As the family told me he experienced very similar pain to what Steve went through."

"But what does that mean?" Steve found himself ask.

"It means you are in danger Steve." Nate said darkly "I do not doubt that you already have an idea of this from your encounter with the zombie-" he tapped the handle of the bloodstained pickaxe "but you must understand that this is much worse."

"How?"

"I did some research about the white orb the unfortunate family I encountered. It took me many years of research and travel but I eventually uncovered what I believe to be the truth. When you originally told me of your strange vision of Etihw Seye I was surprised as you may have noticed." Steve nodded, remembering the dark look on Nate's face when he had asked him about who Etihw Seye was. "Yes Steve when you asked me about it I thought it unwise to trouble you with such things as I thought the vision was most likely a trick of the light or something of the like. I was a fool Steve, Horace. I must apologize to both of you before I tell you everything that I know."

"It's okay." Steve said.

"I'd like to know more about this legend." Horace added. Nate smiled grimly.

"As you have already figured out Etihw Seye is White Eyes. And as you already know Steve, White Eyes was a demon, created by Baezaamon to plague humanity as long as it existed."

"But that was a legend." Steve interjected.

"Indeed Steve. Yes, Horace told you all about it just earlier today. I can imagine that you were not satisfied by this mythological explanation. Now," Nate continued, pacing back to the window a second time. "The truth is the legend is not true. White Eyes, the demon that you heard about in a legend and the same that is used to frighten children is real Steve, Horace. I found it hard to believe at first but the texts do not lie. I discovered an ancient text with extreme difficulty that explains everything. You see, the white orb is the symbol of White Eyes. Whenever a target is chosen as its prey the floating white orb is the warning signal before an attack."

"Wait-" Horace interrupted "Are you suggesting that the town is about to be attacked?"

"Yes I am." Nate said. "You see, just two days after that poor man had the unpleasant experience with the white orb, his house and all of his servants were killed and he was severely burned. It had happened thirteen days before I arrived."

"You mean that we could be attacked in two days then?" Steve asked, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. Nate turned and sat down on the bed. If it was possible, the old man seemed to have aged even further.

"Yes."

"What do you suggest we do then?" Horace asked blithely. Nate smiled grimly,

"Pack your things and run."

Unknown to any of the occupants a pair of white eyes was watching the inn. He had seen that pathetic mortal enter the inn in search of the fat man who was his grandfather. The white eyed creature scowled. And now there was that old meddling fool, telling Steve everything he knew, about him! They had to die, the white eyed figure decided.

Suddenly a small pillar of fire sprouted from his right hand. But just as soon as it had stared the rain put it out. The white eyed figure sneered and snapped his fingers. Abruptly the rain stopped.

"What was that?" Horace asked, cocking his ears. The pounding on the roof had ceased. It had stopped raining. Nate paused and walked over to the window. Suddenly the old man jumped back as a loud roaring sound consumed Steve's ears and he was blown off his feet and slammed into the door. Steve barely had time to scramble to his feet before a wall of fire descended upon him.