Archie Smith: Boy Wonder

Chapter Two: Is He the One?

                                             Archie Smith: Boy Wonder

                                            Chapter Two: Is He the One?

 Archer lay in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. He was awake now, not because of a dream, but because of the strange feeling that something wasn’t right. Sleep evaded him. Every tick tock of the clock, every passing minute, seemed in step with his heartbeat. Fading, fading; the time was fading away. He could almost feel it pass by. Soon it would be morning, dreaded cursed morning. 

He shut his eyes tight, willing, praying, that he could fall asleep. He wanted it to end; the day, the pain, the darkness, everything. Dreams were supposed to be a means of escape, weren't they? Why then couldn't he escape? He was trapped here, in the state of being awake. He hated feeling trapped. It was like being backed into a corner by Mr. Krew, facing a long, skinny whip and the cruel man's burning, beady eyes.

A tiny voice asked, "Is he the one?"

Archer froze, eyes flying open. He didn't move, holding his breath. Who's there? he wanted to ask, but was too afraid of the answer to open his mouth.

"Is he the one? Is he not the one?," the tiny voice muttered to itself, "Questions, questions, questions. All his little questions will go unanswered it seems."

Archer turned suddenly, looking over his shoulder to see whom the voice belonged to.

Nothing was there, but two, large glowing lights in the darkness. They weren't so much lights as they were glowing orbs. Suspended by invisible strings, floating in midair, still and golden of color. Archer didn't know what to make of them. What on earth were they?

"Oh, so he's awake is he? He sees you awake, little boy." The voice seemed to come from those odd, floating orbs, but Archer didn't know how.

"What are you?" he managed to ask. 

"What are you? Well that's an awfully rude question to ask him isn't it? You should be more polite to him, yes you should. He has feelings you know."

"Who's him?" Archer asked, confused.

"You're talking to him silly boy, and now he's talking back to you."

Archer's brow furrowed, "You refer to yourself as ‘him’? That's a little strange."

"You're the one who’s a little strange, little boy. A lot of little strange. You deserve a medal."

Archer growled, frustrated. "Me? Strange? And you're not? You're a glowing orb, well, two glowing orbs. And that's not strange?"

"Glowing orbs? You dare to call him glowing orbs?" And suddenly, the glowing orbs were no longer glowing orbs. Suddenly there was a creature there. The glowing orbs had become eyes; glowing, pupil-less eyes. They seemed to burn.

The creature itself was disturbing. A cat-like creature, so thin every bone rose up underneath the skin. The neck was skinny and elongated, like the stem of a flower, and its giant head was huge. It had a cat like face with shark's teeth in its mouth and floppy dog-ears. A huge, scorpion tail curled up over its back, glistening with poison on its tip.

Archer felt his stomach churn with fear. He didn't know whether to run or cry. It was hideous. It was huge. And it was focused intently on him with those burning eyes.

"So, little boy, you dare call him floating orbs now?"

Archer barely remembered how to talk. He never knew ones throat could go so dry from fear. "I didn't... I didn't expect..."

"This glorious, beautiful creature? Ah yes, he is that, isn't he. No one ever really expects to be graced with his magnificent presence." The thing made a raucous purring sound, grinning so wide, its teeth began to tilt outwards. To Archer's horror, they had a dark-reddish hint to them, like dried blood. "So, tell him, little boy, are you the one?"

"The one what?" he asked, curiosity pushing aside his fear, but not completely. 

“The one who called him here. You called him here didn’t you? He knew it was you. It had to be you. Else, why would he be here?”

Archer felt a bit befuddled by the creature’s odd way of referring himself in third person, and it took a moment for Archer to realize what he was saying. “I don’t really understand. I didn’t call you here.”

“Oh, but you did. You called him out from the shadows. You spoke the dark words, and now he is here!” the creature was grinning again, the shark’s teeth tilting so far out his mouth, they seemed ready to pop out of the gums.

“You mean the curse?” Archer asked, “You mean that… that curse brought you here?” Before the creature could make a reply, Archer continued, sitting up suddenly, “But that’s impossible! The curse isn’t real. It’s just a story!”

The creature shook its head at Archer. “It matters not what words you spoke. The power was not in the words, it was in the voice and the dark intentions of your heart. He is born of fouler darkness than that which wraps itself about your mind. He is born of all the hatred and wrath of mortal beings such as yourself. Your words were merely a way to extend your hate unto the world, that all who have ears to hear may hearken to your bitterness. But it is the hate that gave those words meaning and caused a curse to really be born. And when he heard your words and felt that dark power, he came readily to you.”

 It disturbed Archer to hear the creature say that, though he only really gathered half of what he said. He shivered from fright. “So… I’m not dreaming or anything, huh?”

“No, you most certainly are not,” the creature replied.

Archer looked down at his lap where his shaking hands rested. It surprised him how terrified he was. “What happens now?” Archer dared to ask. He was afraid of the answer, but he had to know.

“Now,” the creature echoed. “Now all your dark desires come true.”

“Meaning?”

The creature tilted its head to the side. “Shouldn’t you know the answer to that? Every word of your curse shall come to life, Archer. ‘They will visit upon your enemies, such greater agonies as are not yet known. Their eyes will be gouged out, their insides ripped out, their loved ones torn to shreds before their eyes.’ Everyone who hates you, Archer, will face an unspeakable demise.”

Archer’s eyes widened. “Just like that?”

“You spoke this curse into existence,” it replied. “And it will happen as you say. Why do you ask? Do you have doubts?”

“No,” Archer said softly.

“Then what is on your mind? Tell him. He wants to know.”

Archer looked back up at the creature. His fearful eyes had a different look to them, and a grin shadowed his face.

“I want you to make the village wish they had never known me.”

The creature returned the grin, “Your word is our command.”