It takes three days to travel by two legs, one with an inferno rider echo and a second with a resonance beach that which Grizeo used and once again feel his stomach churning. And three hours from when he left the lab---a whole village can be stark empty? On the steps where the children pelted him with pebble yesterday, to the well where he had gathered everyone to look for the Alli-op. his footsteps grinding in the eerie silence.
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Black leaves rustling for him to come once more, maybe there in the forest, just a thought. The wind whispers through the abandoned houses, carrying with it the faint scent of musty dryness. The ladies did not bother to take the clothesline, nor the gentlemen to carry the logs inside.
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Snow drifts overhead where the washcloth is stretched taut. Yet still, something watches him. Flinches his ears to stay alert. Heart beating alive in the dead silence and huff of mist in every exhale. One house remains billowing with smoke—the village elder’s. But it is not her she wants to meet. She heads for the forest at the mountain side.
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Unlike the black leaves on the valley, the forest here is withered of life. No leaves, and no shrubs, only thick barks and skeletal thin branches clustering and catching the snow. Their twisted shadows merging as one as his steps go deeper and his hand fiddling in his pocket. Light goes his lighter---a pale woman’s face in front of him.
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Grizeo jumps back with his other hand quickly firing a dart at the floating head and it strikes straight onto the forehead. Its eyes rolling up and cut tongue sliding out. Swinging it back and forth, before he realizes that it is connected to a string. Its blood has been frozen but the moist eyes tell him that the head is fresh. Meaning not a day has passed since this person had died. And Grizeo does not recognize if it is from the villagers or just a passerby.
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So, he heads deeper without thinking much about it. The branches click as if something is on them while the snowy floor remains silent. ‘Where is this person?’ asking in his thought as his lighter can only illuminate three meters from him.
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Flap
Flap
Around a tree where a beheaded body—a man. But that is not important, the butterflies around him are. Known as Clotflies, they look like butterflies but only their wings. Their bodies are pebble like and they gather around the scent of blood. Just as they are gathering around the decapitated body. Grizeo manage to attach strings on the Clotflies before summoning an echo out his gourd to lather the body with motor oil. And he burns it.
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Letting the Clotflies fly and lead his way. Deeper in to the withered forest where spider tacet discords hang dead on trees. And the tree barks are grazed by something sharp, not made by a sword or any blade since there are hairs on it. Sniffing it and a scent of olives. Do discord spiders smell like olives? Probably not, as the roots and branches are flourishing thicker. Barely any light can get through the snow roof. And, something smells of blood. Fresh blood.
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What to expect? Nothing, just brainfart and a hand on his dart gun. His ember eyes glinting to see more than just darkness, something snarls and hisses. To his right, nothing, to his left, a pool of blood and a bare lady on it. She snarls and hisses—gasping for breath. He certainly did not expect to find a maiden here. Their features obscured by grime and gore but the cow sagging sacs, he tears his sight away before his chest could burn. Inhale and exhale. ‘She must be the one’ He thinks before turning back and cautiously walk up to their side. “Hello?”
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“W-who’s there!?” Baring her sharp and bloody teeths,
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She looks like a dangerous vagrant but he has to be sure. “Are you—”
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“Please, whoever you are, please, help me.”
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“… Are you in danger?”
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“Yes, very. I need your help” Turning to face where Grizeo is standing, “Please just this once stranger…”
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Grizeo steps back, thinking about this another errand that somehow feels different when it is not the doctor asking. Nodding his head though she still probably cannot see him, “What do you need?”
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“No” shaking her head, breath coming in short gasps, “I don’t need anything. My legs are broken and I need to place this bracelet on my mother’s altar. She likes bracelets and I always come back to bring her the new and popular ones. But those unwelcoming villagers…they had the bold to attack me…and I—I flee. Not able to bring the bracelet to mother.” Kneeling and placing a wooden bracelet on the ground, “Please help me this once stranger. And then I’ll leave.”
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But Grizeo recalls, “The task is to eliminate a vagrant” words that came out from a scientist’s mouth. And by eliminate means to get rid of, or to kill. He has been taking orders from that old man ever since he can last remember, and maybe this once, as he takes the bracelet and raise his head to face the girl’s pitiful blue eyes, once is fine. ‘Plus, it would be boring to just end it’ He thinks, tucking the bracelet in his pocket. “Where’s your house?”
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“Left of the house nearest to the well.”
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---A burnt down house. Grizeo had come out of the forest, went to the well with surprisingly—bodies thrown in, then looking to his left shoulder and seeing a burnt down house. Charred lumber and furniture swamp the floor black; metal pots and plastic plates are melted with shards of glass in front of a burnt portrait of someone. Charred bracelets on the shards of glass, and Grizeo guesses that this must be the altar. He did not think much as he places the bracelet on the shards of glass, before hearing footsteps coming down from the snow.
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“You’re back.” Just the village elder, “I didn’t think you’d come back”
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“Had to come back”
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“By whom?” She walks in, crumpling the black roasted flowers to ash. “Who are you working for?”
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“No one” He says, keeping his hands in the pants pocket, “What happened here? Last I came, there were no signs of a lament”
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“No, there wasn’t. But they thought it would happen. Especially when a horde of the creature you were looking for came up from the valley and spooked everyone to the withered forest. Though some tried to fight back and are dumped into the well. Some, I don’t know what came of them in the forest. But they still had the time to burn Little Margie’s home”
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“Dead,” staring down at the broken glass and charred bracelets, “The villagers who went in the forest are dead. Discord spiders attacked them.”
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“So why are you here? To hunt again those monsters?”
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“Nothing. Just here to check.”
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“Well, it’s dead. Better you go now before a blizzard comes. And, the night is colder here. Much more dangerous with Arachne.”
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“Arachne?”
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“You don’t want any words from me now. Go along and I’ll be heading back to mine.”
ns 15.158.61.8da2
