The Dacabre Killings

 23 ~ ember

*Unedited*
Ember

     The repetition of clicks and shouts brought my body back down to Earth. I was surprised my night had been somewhat restful, with no nightmares plaguing my sleep.

     The ground was unnaturally hard, as if it was made of stone. The clicking and voices grew louder, causing realization to attack me.

     I wasn't on the beach. And I wasn't alone.

     I attempted to sit up, but then found that the stiffness of my body was due to the rope knotting around my body and under a large, rectangular block of stone, sort of like a table.

     Where on Earth was I? The smell of wood and smoke met my nose, along with...could it be?

     It was a cooked deer, something I had eaten plenty of times. I was suddenly reminded of how hungry I was, and how long it had been since I had felt the liquid of sweet, fresh water in my mouth.

     They were closer now—the people whom the shouts and clicks belonged to.

     I then recognized another smell intermingling with the smoke: pine trees.

     Oh no.

     For the first time, I began to realize where I was; in a forest. Small huts surrounded me, indicating I was in the middle of a village.

     The smells. The sounds. The forest. The village. The natives.

     The Foresters.

     A gasp escaped me as a sudden pain flashed through my head, succumbing me into a world of unconsciousness.

  

     Everything was a blur as the boy—I was sure he was Grey by now—announced everything.

     My father was dead.

     My father was dead.

     My father was dead.

     My world was turned into one of denial and confusion, all mixed in together with pain.

     I had always known he had died; I mean, how could someone survive the forest for a full month? It just wasn't possible, it was defying the rules of reality.

     Yet I, with all my silly optimism, had clutched onto hope as if it was the only thing keeping me alive. In my eyes, so long as we hadn't found him dead, he could still be alive.

     But he's not alive, a voice whispered inside of me, he's dead.

     For once, positivity had proved to be my weakness, my detriment. Now, it was doing nothing but ripping me apart, starting straight with my heart.

     Grey was talking to me, but I couldn't hear a word he was saying. A ringing in my ears blocked off all forms of sound, and my vision began to get foggy, blurring everything I saw into a misty haze.

     He's dead he's dead he's dead.

     My body was wracked with violent sobs as my legs folded under me as if they had suddenly broken. The words Grey had spoken were running through my mind, and my voice answered with emotion, but I hardly realized I said anything.

     I was teetering over the edge of sane consciousness into the abyss of wild insanity.

     I'll never see him again. He's gone. He's gone forever.