CHAPTER 6: WINDING DOWN
"Young lady, in all my seven years of teaching, I haven't ONCE had the misfortune of having a rule-breaking rebel as unruly as yourself!"
"I'm so sorry," Octavia muttered sarcastically, pushing her palm into her forehead.
The half-hearted apology upset Maxson even more. "You fiend! Rapscallion!" he yelled, shaking his fist. "It's as if you don't believe there are consequences to your actions!"
"Like what? Gonna make us fill out exit tickets to leave the room?" Octavia snapped, her patience wearing thin.
Maxson scowled at her, brimming with anger. "Were it up to me, yes! You would all be writing the entire proof of Fermat's Last Theorem for the next two months!" He then huffed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Fortunately for you, head counselor Cole wishes for all of you to participate in the Nature's Trail event."
Maxson leaned in close to Octavia, his warm, stinking breath washing over her. "No. Exceptions."
"Whatever, dude."
Maxson scowled for a moment before nodding in approval. "We shall visit the meal hall in two hours for dinner. In the meantime…" Octavia watched Maxson rummage through a cabinet before pulling a large book out. She was sure it was his trusty "Big book of bullshit math theorems" by "some loser with too much time on their hands."
It was far worse than she could have ever imagined. Her blood ran cold as she read the title on the front. Maxson had managed to obtain her one true weakness.
"Campfire icebreakers"
Maxson cackled, seemingly delighting in her horror. "I've already picked out the perfect game for us so we can all get to know each other better!
Cameron scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I think we already kind of know each other, mister-"
"It's not up to you! I'm the Cabin Counselor, I make the rules!" Maxson snapped in a feral tone, glaring at Cameron. He then sat on the floor, laying the book on his lap.
As Hubert and Cameron sat on the wooden floor, Octavia shrunk slightly. "Do I have to? I really don't want to."
Maxson gave her an uncompromising glare that told her he was serious. Octavia silently swore under her breath, crouching and sitting between Hubert and Cameron. Once she got home, she would ask her father if he could get this manchild of a teacher fired.
Maxson nodded in approval, flipping to a new book page and clearing his throat. "Here's the game: When your turn comes, give your name, favorite food, and a fun fact about you! But here's the catch," he said evilly, rubbing his hands together. "You must also give a backhanded compliment to the person next to you!"
There was a long, drawn-out silence before Cameron cleared his throat. "My name's Cameron, my favorite food is tacos, and a fun fact about me? I mean…" He gestured to his human form before shrugging. He then looked at Octavia. "For the compliment, uh… You… really nailed the 2006 goth look."
Octavia gave an unimpressed deadpan as Mr Maxson giggled and clapped his hands. Seeing everyone stare at her expectantly, she sighed.
"My name is Octavia. My favorite food is pizza rolls. There's nothing interesting about me." Octavia scoured her brain for a compliment. "Cameron, your… I don't know… your broken nose makes you look maybe three percent cooler."
"Hoho! Wondrous!" Mr. Maxson said in his nasally grating voice, applauding her. "I do believe that's the first time Octavia ever said anything nice about anyone!"
Octavia leveled her nastiest glare at Mr. Maxson, her owl-like eyes burning with crimson hatred.
Hubert straightened his back, adjusting his glasses. "I am Hubert Weslin-" Hubert caught himself, stopping and clearing his throat. "I am Hubert Pippins. My favorite food is carrots. As for an interesting fact about me, I could list off my several academic accomplishments, but I doubt they would be adequately appreciated here," he said, rolling his eyes and adjusting his glasses again, almost as if it were a compulsive habit. "So, I will simply say I am twelve, yet finishing my senior year."
Octavia just couldn't get over how adorable this little nerd was. He was like a moody little Einstein toddler.
"Don't forget the compliment, mister!" Maxson said, looking at Hubert expectantly. "If you can't think of anything for these two undeserving rabble-rousers, perhaps you could compliment me!" he added with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Hubert was not amused but played along. "Mr. Maxson, you give me a greater appreciation for my other teachers," he said simply.
"Thank you- wait a minute," Maxson said, putting a hand to his beak.
"Well, now that we've finished wasting two minutes of our lives…" Octavia stood. She needed to disappear to the restroom. Hopefully, there was an outlet she could find for her phone charger, which she was pretty sure she had brought. She did bring it, right?
"Not so fast, Octavia! That was only the first icebreaker," Mr. Maxson said, leaving all hope to wither away. "Let us move on to the next! This one's called 'Desert Island!' Would anyone like to start first?"
Octavia died a little inside.
"STOLAAAAAS!"
Stolas threw his head back in exasperation, biting back a growl as he clenched his pen tighter. He took a deep breath. "What is it now, dear?" he asked in his most soothing voice as Stella stormed into his chamber.
Stella reeled back, her eyes widening as she scoffed in disbelief. "What is it now? I'm sorry, am I pestering you?" she asked, knowing quite well that was exactly what she was doing. "Have you forgotten about your meeting with Lady Deliana? Her family seeks to make a very important inheritance claim over her stepfather's estate, and you had agreed to endorse it!"
"That meeting is tomorrow, Stella…" Stolas said tiredly as he returned to his letter.
This did not quell Stella's wrath. "But you haven't even started on your end of the documentation!" she whined, stomping her foot. "Don't you know it's customary to submit your… no, what am I saying? Of course you don't!" She scowled. "Maybe if your father actually gave a fuck about you, he'd have taught you basic etiquette!"
If only she knew just how simultaneously right and wrong she was. "I'm certain he would have," Stolas muttered tiredly, rubbing his eyes.
Stella peered over his shoulder, squinting at the parchment on his desk. "What are you even writing? That had better be the endorsement documents. I'm far too busy today to help you do your one job."
"It's a letter to our daughter, Stella," Stolas said, spitting her name like venom.
Realization dawned on Stella's face as she nodded, her glare softening slightly. "Oh. Yes. I had forgotten she left."
Stolas gawked at her with his best "Are you serious" look.
"Don't look at me like that!" Stella said with an indignant glare. "She never leaves her room! I hardly noticed a difference now that she's gone!"
Shaking his head, Stolas returned to his letter. "I expect she won't send any letters from camp until I send her something, so I'm taking the initiative."
Stolas paused, considering something. Given her lack of care for their daughter, he wondered if Stella even deserved the opportunity. For a moment, he considered not asking but decided that even if Stella didn't deserve Octavia's love, Octavia deserved a mother's love—even if that love had to be coaxed out by her wonderful dad.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" Stolas asked, turning around to face Stella.
Stella stared blankly momentarily before tapping her beak with a talon. She thought for a good moment as if there were a right and wrong answer. "Yes," she said. "Remind her to use the perfume I gave her. It's Royauté Dorée, the most expensive bottle in my collection."
Stolas blinked hard and deliberately at her, giving her a meaningful and disapproving look. "Besides that, Stella?"
"Hm… I suppose you may tell her that I eagerly await her return," Stella said dismissively as if it were an afterthought. She dismissed him with a wave of the hand, before turning and leaving.
Stolas shook his head. He wasn't sure what else he could expect from Stella, but at least he gave her a chance to show their daughter some affection. It was validating to know he was both a good person for giving her a chance and absolutely right about her not deserving it.
He smiled as he finished his letter, looking it over twice. It was a perfect work of art, every word crafted to convey his feelings. It may have been soppy and melodramatic, but it was how he truly felt.
As he read his own letter, his thoughts flashed back to his own childhood. He recalled himself when he was Octavia's age. It felt like it was just yesterday he was attending school too. He remembered how his father would berate him and slap him for the slightest of emotional expression. When he was younger, he wasn't permitted to have fun, to show vulnerability. He had never been a kid. He hadn't been given the chance.
He thought about how much he would have given to go on a two-month vacation as a kid, to make friends and have fun, perhaps even meet people of similar mind to himself.
Stolas looked across his desk, seeing piles of paperwork. Trade agreements, political favors, and that damned Grimoire… His childhood was gone, and there was no going back. He'd missed his opportunity to have fun. The rest of his eternal life would be spent at his desk.
He then thought about how Octavia was living his dream childhood, how she had everything he wished he could have had growing up. His throat tightened as tears began to form in his eyes, some dropping onto the paper.
He tried to smile at the thought of Octavia playing games with new friends, but it only led to more tears, which began to flow freely and drip onto the paper. He cursed and leaned back, wiping his eyes. He wished he could have had a father like himself.
"You'd better be having fun right now, my little starfire."
"Nope! The lie was that I've gone base jumping!" Mr. Maxson said giddily, as if he believed he was winning. Honestly, one more 'fun' icebreaker game and Octavia was going to base jump off a chair with a rope around her neck.
Thankfully, sweet escape came in the form of a bugle call from the loudspeakers all across camp.
"Oh, thank god. Dinner," Cameron muttered, standing up and rushing for the door. Octavia was quick to follow. Not because she was hungry, she just had to get away from Mr. Maxson and his fucking icebreakers.
"Not so fast! Single file!"
Mr Maxson's demands for order were promptly ignored. "Come on! If we're quick, we might be able to sit somewhere away from SS officer Maxson!" Cameron said to Octavia. Hubert didn't even try to run, rolling his eyes as the two dashed.
Cameron and Octavia ran into the meal hall, nearly knocking over someone carrying a plastic plate of pulled pork. It looked a lot like her school cafeteria and was just as bustling, with campers scattered throughout the hall. The tables were hollow and made of cheap plastic, which reverberated as the rowdy campers banged and slapped them.
Octavia followed closely behind Cameron as they weaved through hungry campers, heading for the food. Octavia got herself a big pile of Mac n cheese and searched for an empty table.
Unfortunately, it was just like high school. Every table was packed, all with strangers who probably hated her. She would have to sit on the floor against the wall again.
"Hey, looking for a spot?" Cameron said, walking next to her. Octavia nodded and Cameron beckoned her to follow him. He led her to the side of the meal hall into an empty room and through a door that looked like it was off-limits. As Cameron closed the door behind him, the loud chatter of adolescents became dull and muffled.
Octavia looked around, seeing cushioned seats surrounding a large, empty table. There was a fridge, a water fountain, cabinets, and sinks… The room resembled a teacher's lounge more than a rustic camp lodge or a cafeteria.
"The counselors don't care if we chill in here," Cameron said with a chuckle. "Used to be the counselor's lounge room till they built the lodge. It's the big cabin at the center of Deadwood dedicated to being luxurious."
Octavia gave a skeptical hum. "How did you even find out about this room?"
"Just by poking around. I found it just last year. Nice, isn't it?" Cameron said, taking a seat and setting down his plate.
Nice? Was that all he was going to say? She figured he'd pulled her aside to tell her something. But he just sat there, slurping up his food as if they were good friends who'd known each other since first grade. Why? What was his deal? She was a loser, so was he. Why couldn't they both just stay in their own corners?
"Why do you want me to sit with you?" Octavia blurted.
Cameron looked up from his food, spaghetti dangling from his lips. "You're welcome to sit with someone else if you don't like me," he said through a mouthful of food.
Octavia stared for a moment before looking away. Her words had come across a lot more hostile sounding than intended. She sighed, taking a seat as she met Cameron's eyes. "Sorry. There's just so much happening all at once, and I…uh…"
Octavia trailed off, having trouble finding the words as Cameron stuffed his face with food. She looked on in amusement as the boy scooped the diced potatoes off his plate and into his mouth with his bare hands.
"Holy shit. You hungry?" Octavia asked with an impressed look.
"Mmh?" Cameron grunted as he sucked the sauce off his fingers before remembering his manners and bashfully cleaning his hands and face with a paper napkin. "Yeah. Haven't eaten since… uh…" He seemed lost in thought as if trying to recall a distant memory. "I ate a pizza and garlic bread knots on Thursday."
"Thursday?" Octavia repeated. "That was two days ago! Are you fasting?"
"Something like that," Cameron muttered dismissively.
"Well… shit, dude." Octavia looked at her side plate of macaroni and cheese. She wasn't hungry enough to finish both her plates of food, and she knew she would just throw it out. "You, uh, want this? I'm not finishing it," she asked, sliding it a bit closer to him.
Cameron smiled and quickly took the plate, flashing a look of gratitude at her.
Octavia watched him scarf down his food, moving on to what she had offered. She chuckled at seeing such a thin guy do so much damage.
But as she sat silently, she began to feel a cold pang of guilt. He hadn't slighted her in any way. He had stood up for her! So why did she still feel so on edge about him?
Octavia sucked in a deep breath, opening her beak. "I'm sorry," she said quickly and quietly, squeezing her wrist under the table.
"Hm?" Cameron grunted with a mouthful of macaroni.
"I'm sorry that I've been kinda shitty to you all day," she explained. "I should just be pissed at mum and dad." Octavia wasn't much enjoying this feeling of guilt. She preferred when people were the asshole to her rather than the other way around.
Cameron raised a hand, giving her a dull smirk. "Don't worry about it," he said dismissively. "You were forced to come here. Totally reasonable to be mad about it."
Octavia blinked twice, a bit surprised at how easy that was. She felt relief wash over her as the guilt and shame that had been welling up inside her simply dissipated. With how quick Cameron was to shrug it off, she almost felt stupid for bringing it up.
She smiled as he finished his food. "Friend" was still a bit much for her, but she didn't want to keep up her hostile demeanor towards Cameron. That just felt cruel. Perhaps "cabin buddy" wasn't so bad…
The evening dragged on without much of any action. Octavia had heard a few murmurs about the earlier fight between Cameron and Brutus but nothing of interest. Everyone seemed more intent on sharing stories around the campfire. It was the kind of pastime that made her realize that everyone else's lives were just as boring as hers. Thankfully, at least Marbles had interesting stories, though she doubted the validity of some of them.
Marbles was a sleazebag, and he didn't hide it. He was a Latino sinner manifesting in the form of a black cat, but he carried himself with the confidence and swagger of a lion. He wore a loose-fitting black leather jacket that looked like it had been through seven wars. All his clothes were as greasy as his black fur.
Every sinner came with their own gimmicky power, as Octavia had learned. Some could shoot fire. Some could fly. Some could manipulate their body shape.
Marbles could do impressions.
Granted, they were pitch-perfect impressions, but it was still a pretty lame power. However, even she had to admit he was making good use of his abilities. He was stuck in Hogtusk cabin with Brutus and two other big brutes, yet he had managed to befriend them all.
"Yeah, so on my dad's very first meeting with Al Capone, he called him Scarface. Right to his face! He told me he got slapped around for that. Would've been killed if he were anyone else." Marbles proudly leaned back against a large rock as he regaled his stories.
"That's crazy," said Brutus. "So your dad knew Al Capone. Your dad knew The Don. Your dad knew Pablo Escobar," Brutus started counting with his fingers. "How did you not get into Heaven? Did your dad not know Jesus too?"
"Hey, listen, cabron," Marbles said, spreading his hands. "I wasn't all that clean. You know how I'm really good at doing impressions?" Brutus nodded, so Marbles continued, a smirk on his face. "I impersonated a crime lord, I won't say who cause they're probably in hell right now. But I made some phone calls and had at least seven packets of coke dropped off under my doormat before anyone caught on." He gave a satisfied sniff, grinning ear to ear. "And that's how I died. They caught on."
Cameron let out an intrigued hum, though it almost came across as skeptical. Marbles looked over to the human. "What? Don't believe me?"
"No, no, it's not that," Cameron quickly said. "I just… That doesn't sound that bad is all."
The several campers around the fire let out a collective "ooh", looking between Cameron and Marbles, whose brow was now furrowed.
"What? I only meant that… I mean, stealing cocaine is wrong, but it's hardly worthy of eternal damnation," Cameron quickly corrected.
Octavia facepalmed as he only dug his hole deeper. Everyone in hell wore their reason for getting into hell as a badge of honor. Octavia figured the idea that you should be proud of your misdeeds was just a coping mechanism, but even she knew not to tell a sinner he didn't earn his place in hell.
"You saying I got a boring reason for being down here?" Marbles said in an aggressive tone, gesturing to Cameron. "Well, why don't we hear how you wound up in Hell!"
Cameron's face suddenly went blank. "Uh, I don't really…"
Marbles scoffed. "What? My story's so boring, but you won't even tell us how you got into Hell without changing none?" He gestured to Cameron's form, still as human as he was when he was born.
"I'm not telling you." Cameron asserted a bit more firmly, his jaw clenching. Unfortunately, his determination only spurred Marbles on.
Marbles looked around at the sinners and demons by the campfire, a sadistic grin on his face. "Yo, Cameron did some bad shit up there," he chided, making a few people laugh. Much to Cameron's visible distress, everyone around the fire was starting to get curious about what he did to make God turn him the other way.
"I didn't do anything!" Cameron exclaimed defensively. "Just… It isn't that interesting, that's all."
"How many people did you kill? Did you have a preference?" Marbles prodded, a wicked smirk on his face as his whiskers twitched.
Brutus batted Marbles' shoulder, shaking his head. "Forget it, bro. I bet the only person he killed was himself."
Marbles let out a chuckle that dripped with malice before a gleeful grin came over his face. "Yo Brutus, check this out." He brought a paw to his throat, opened his mouth… and delivered a pitch-perfect impression of Cameron's voice. "Hey guys! What are you all chatting about?" Marbles said with a goofy grin. "Mind if I butt into this conversation?"
The dozen campers all clapped and laughed as Cameron stared bemusedly at Marbles. "Wow, real clever. Repeat what I say in a funny voice. How long did it take to come up with that one?" Cameron grumbled.
Brutus was among one of the campers laughing the hardest at Cameron's expense, clearly enjoying making him the butt of the joke. "Hey, Cameron," he said to Marbles, ignoring the real Cameron. "How'd you end up in hell?"
"Well, Brutus, it's really not that interesting. Basically, I was too retarded to go to Heaven. God took one look at me and said, 'nah, I don't love that one,'" Marbles said, to which Cameron only rolled his eyes at. Neither of them noticed Counselor Cole creeping up right behind Marbles.
"Well, howdy there, fellas!" the head counselor said with a big smile. The smug grin immediately vanished from the feline's face, turning neutral within seconds. "What's all the ruckus? Y'all sharin' a good ol' chuckle 'round the fire?" Cole continued, laying a hand on both Marbles' and Brutus' shoulders.
"Uh, yes, sir. Sure are," Marbles all but stammered.
"Mighty fine! Ain't a sight in Hell better than seein' camper's enjoyin' themselves," Counselor Cole said. His friendly smile remained as he patted the two on the shoulder. He stepped forward, looking around at the huddle of campers.
"Now, I ain't pointin' fingers, but I'm lettin' folks know we're serious 'bout nippin' harassment in the bud this year. Don't do our budget no good if ain't nobody goin' home happy!" Cole said before turning directly to Cameron, who shrunk a bit as everyone else turned to look at him. "Cameron, buddy. Reckon these two steerin' clear of any mischief, right?"
Octavia couldn't help but feel cathartic glee on Cameron's behalf. She saw Marbles wilt and give Cameron a subtle shake of the head, his wide eyes silently begging for mercy. It was honestly Octavia's dream scenario. She even found herself envying the power Cameron held in that moment over his bullies.
"Yeah, Mr. Cole. We're just having fun," Cameron said, giving Counselor Cole an insincere smile.
Octavia slowly turned to look at Cameron, doing everything in her power not to gawk. Was he just going to let them off? He had the perfect excuse to snitch on them! He could have at least made them squirm a little bit.
Cole narrowed his eyes briefly, glancing between Marbles and Brutus, before nodding and tipping his hat at Cameron. Marbles let out a sigh of relief while Brutus only raised an eyebrow.
The relief was short lived as a certain fat crow burst into the campfire circle. "Did someone say fun?" Mr. Walt asked, pushing past Counselor Cole. "Fun and fire don't mix together! At least that's what my sergeant said back in the army. I disagree, though!" Walt said before slapping his forehead. "I mean, bad! Playing with fire is bad! Bad!"
Counselor Cole chuckled and pulled the mildly deranged Counselor back from the fire a few paces. "That's right, Walter. Playing with fire is bad!" He gave a meaningful look to Walt. "You know what else is bad?"
"Um… Communism?" he said uncertainly.
Cole blinked twice. "What? No, the Dark Woods!" He leaned in close, whispering to Walt, "You remember our presentation?"
Walt only stared blankly.
"You brought your flashcards, right?" Cole pleaded.
"Uh, I ate them," Mr. Walt said quickly.
"What? I can see one sticking out of your pocket!" Cole pulled a white flash card out of Walt's pocket, presenting it in front of the crow.
Walt grabbed the flash card from Cole and crumpled it up, before tossing it into his mouth and swallowing it whole with a loud gulp. "I ate them," he repeated, gulping nervously.
Cole rubbed his face in resignation before taking a deep breath and stepping forward. "Alright, y'all, I want your undivided attention. No talking." He clapped his hands together once, his large arms swinging back and forth idly as he spoke. His tone was serious but warm.
"Y'all are here to have fun! But you're also here to learn how to work together, build teamwork skills, and fend for yourselves. The Nature's Trail competition starts TOMORROW afternoon."
There were some murmurs of excitement and uncertainty. Cole waited a moment before continuing. "But, more importantly, NEVER go into the dark woods. Ain't nothing out there for you." Cole turned to Walt, giving him an encouraging nod. "Why don't you enlighten everyone on what's out there, Mr. Walters?"
Walt's face lit up as if he just figured out the answer to an earlier question. "Bear traps! I set seven bear traps and a landmine around the forest border!" he proudly proclaimed before tapping his beak. "Or maybe they were all landmines. Or were they my spare plastic plates? Ha! I don't remember! Isn't that silly? I know they were disc-shaped, at least!" He squawked as his left eyelid twitched manically.
"I… what…" Cole muttered with a befuddled look on his face before shaking his head. "I mean, yeah! Traps! So don't go nosing around out there, 'Specially not at night. Wouldn't want something big and nasty to sneak up and… GRAB YA!" Cole suddenly grabbed the nearest camper by the shoulders, making them shriek as everyone laughed. Cole chuckled before beckoning Walt to follow along, leaving the campers to themselves.
Octavia watched the two leave. She could not figure out how someone so deranged managed to keep a job at camp. They must have been desperate for staff.
She heard students murmuring about many things. Some about the upcoming Nature's Trail. Some about the Dark Woods. She saw Marbles whisper something to Brutus before a very rare sight occurred: A frightened look came over Brutus' face.
"What? Not like anything's out there," Marbles purred. "Besides the groundskeeper." At the mention of "groundskeeper," Everyone went quiet.
"The what?" Cameron asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Marbles said, his tone a bit friendlier towards Cameron this time. "Last summer, a friend of mine went into the forest and saw…" Marbles trailed off, checking over his shoulder for any nearby counselors, before leaning closer toward the fire. "...a house. And not some log cabin. I'm talking brick and mortar.
"No way. Who would live out there?" Cameron asked incredulously. "Cole and the other head counselors stay in the Lounge. Our counselors stay in our cabins…"
"That's just it. Nobody knows who lives there. But my friend said he saw someone walking around inside, between you and me."
"And by your friend, you mean yourself?" Octavia asked, her eyes set in an unimpressed, half-lidded glare. Marbles grinned and winked at her, telling her all she needed to know about the sneaky black cat. He was full of shit.
"This is ridiculous," Hubert confidently declared, crossing his arms. "The Dark Woods are off limits due to low visibility and dire Wolves. Nobody lives out there."
"Why don't you check for yourself? Prove me wrong."
"I can't prove that a house doesn't exist," Hubert cried, a baffled expression on his face. "The onus is on you to establish evidence that it does."
"Pussy," Brutus muttered, yawning.
Hubert groaned in exasperation, getting up from his log and sitting next to Octavia, who had been watching from across the campfire. "Octavia, remind me next time not to engage in conversation with such simple-minded cretins."
"Sure thing, dude," Octavia muttered, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Hey, Cameron, what time is this Nature Trail bullshit happening tomorrow?"
Octavia waited for a response but received none. "Cameron?" Octavia turned to look at Cameron, only to see he was no longer there. She chuckled. She must not have been interesting enough to sit next to, even for the human. He probably had better things to do.
The festivities of summer camp's first campfire went on, the fire burning high as students roasted smores and told shitty horror stories in the flickering firelight.
It was torture for Octavia – every second of it. Within minutes, she realized there was no reason for her to stay. The only person worth talking to was Hubert, who was busy reading a book.
Octavia was the first to leave, trudging back to the Cabin, just wanting to flop into her bed. As she entered, she found the cabin empty; Cameron was nowhere to be seen. Not that it mattered; she wasn't in the mood for small talk.
While everyone else laughed and hollered, she buried herself beneath the covers. The blankets were rough, resembling the texture of a rug. The mattress wasn't much better with how stiff and smelly it was. It felt crusty, too.
Perhaps Octavia wasn't as low maintenance as she thought she was.
Laying on her side, she hoped that she would wake up the next morning in her royal bed, that this was just a shitty nightmare.
But sleep did not take her easily that night. All she could think about was how much she missed home.
Home… A few tears welled up in her eyes as she clutched the pillow, holding it close to her.
"This fucking pillow smells like piss…" she sobbed.
Darkness swallowed up everything it touched. An ominous fog rolled over the forest floor. The distant screeching of nocturnal animals passed through the whistling trees. Not even the ambient light of the night sky penetrated the dark woods; It was the forest that even the demons feared.
It wasn't so hollow and dark because of the thick foliage, for the trees bore no leaves. No, the night sky was still visible, leaving a pure black silhouette of the trees' twisted limbs. The worn dirt path was the only thing touched by the light of night, a lonely trail to which gnarled branches reached for like skeletal fingers.
And down that path, my prey ran.
My cloak billowed in the dead wind as I dashed from tree to tree, my quarry running as fast as its little hooves would carry it. It was all pointless. The wild hog was a meek little creature that had wandered too far into the dark woods.
I raised my hand and called upon my dark powers. By my will, the dead trees groaned, their branches twisting and bending into a wall of tangled wood, blocking any escape. The hog skidded to a stop, turning around and squealing, trying to appear threatening as I stepped out of the encroaching shadows, drawing my sword.
With my silent command, the shadows on the forest floor rushed forward, descending upon the animal like a tidal wave. Though darkness obscured its grisly death, its pained squeals echoed through the forest as the ravenous darkness tore it to shreds and scraps.
As the beast's life faded, my power grew. But so did my hunger. Not a hunger for sustenance but for control. For dominance. For more.
For a chance to see her again. I would do whatever I had to.
The darkness parted, leaving a broken and bleeding wild pig. It had no soul I could use, but such a simple beast could still fetch some value. I only needed its head, after all.
I looked up. I could still see it in the distance, over the dark hills. Camp Deadwood. A camp of young, defenseless demons, all of them believing themselves untouchable. They would see their folly. My righteous hunt would soon begin. I had spent so long preparing and sacrificed so much. The time had nearly come for darkness to fall upon them.
Gripping my sword tightly, I raised it above my head and brought it down on the hog's neck.