King of Shadows: Of Blood and Tears

Chapter 7: A Stall of Blood and Water

Stay brave...Don't give in... Max pondered curiously over Annabelle's words a couple days later. September had arrived, and the warm days of Summer were slowly replaced by the chilly, damp weather of Fall, settling into Shadow grove like a cozy blanket.

In the Autumn air, the leaves were changing and the smell of pumpkin spice wafted through the neighborhood. Little by little, the Halloween decorations went up in the yards of those eager.

The quiet voice of Annabelle sung across the room, waking Max up for school. Repeatedly, playing like a beautiful melody of torturous chords, acting as reminders of the unknown.

Monday mornings were terrible, and for those who already lacked the ability to fall asleep in a timely manner, it was even worse.

Max was tired, his eyes heavy. Purple bags throbbed under his eyes as he rubbed them. He got a decent night's rest, and he felt as though seven hours was plenty, yet he still felt...tired. A numbing of sorts, draining his will of any form of productiveness. His visual field was hazy, the colors slowly oozing into a blur. His anchor of reality failed him, drifting through an ocean of confusion. He felt his hands slipping as he grasped for a life raft, but there was nothing to cling to. Nothing to keep him from drowning.

He sat up, rubbed his crusted eyes once more, and felt a weird tingling sensation on the back of his head. The tingling then revealed its true identity of a sharpened snake wriggling throughout his skull.

"Ow, what the hell" Max said, feeling the back of his head, itching ferociously.

He felt two small objects protruding from his skull around the size of marbles. They felt wooden, as if they were little horns made from trees, and rough like the bark.

Weird, there's no blood...What is this? Max thought as he was getting dressed for school.

Luckily, my hair still covers them. Hopefully, they will go away. He reasoned, trying to convince himself that they were not a big deal. He had enough going on, too much for one person to handle. Fortunately, he tried to keep his friends updated. No matter how crazy he may sound, he knew they believed him...or tried to at least, which was more than Max could have asked for in his situation.

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"What's up Max!" William Johnson said, walking up to him.

"Not much, man. Had some crazy things happen. I'll fill you in at lunch."

"No need." John said, looking down, grimacing at whatever thought fluttered around his brain, like an eerie butterfly.

"Victoria filled me in on everything. She told me. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" Johnson asked as they began their journey to English class.

"No man, I'll be okay. I just gotta figure this out. Piece everything together. It feels too real to not at least mean something. I can do this," Max blurted out, feeling a surge of confidence for the first time in a long time.

They both found their seats in Mrs. Hoovers English class. It was a decent sized class, around twenty students. John, in every class he was in with Max, sat in the chair directly behind him. John's reasoning behind this absurdity was because he felt the need to always have Max's back, although Max himself knew this wasn't the full truth. He knew it was so Williams could sneakily peek at his work. As plucky as the man was, he was truly not the most...intelligent. He also knew that John liked to mess with his ears, so his positioning for that exact act of treason was diligent.

As Mrs. Hoover went on about the era of Salem and the Witch Trials, the drowsy boy wrote in his dream journal.

Stay brave...Don't give in...Savior...friend.