OXRO: ACTIVATION

Chapter 21

Ethan galloped through the woods like a stallion. His body was on autopilot locked in on the salty citrus scent wafting through the clammy morning air. The only other thing his mind was trained on was his ill actions. The ones he committed unbeknownst to himself. Every gory image flashed before his mind's eye like a Friday the 13th marathon.

Blood. The sweet-salty essence of life seeped in the taste buds of Ethan's tongue. He tasted the sprinkles that sprayed on his lips as he watched it dangle from the tree, it, being the body, the faintly breathing body that was once a lively person. A lively person he caught. Standing in the middle of the dark two-lane road going straight down the middle of Alabaster Woods, Ethan stood only in his pajamas. Every year it was the same thing. He stood in the middle of the road until the headlights of the car burned his pupils. The brakes would screech. The car would swerve. The driver or an overly concerned passenger would leap out the car and check on him; the boy that didn't flinch as a ton of metal sped right at him. The adrenaline pumping through their bodies must've overridden the compartment that produced common sense.

Are you okay? What's the matter with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Ethan heard it all. Standing there hypnotized on the darkness in front of him, he never answered their many questions. They wouldn't have cared either. The next action that followed would erase all but one thought from their mind. Survival. Only they didn't know they were following his plan. He couldn't remember where he got the plan. He just knew it. Step one: Take the knife from the kitchen. Step two: Stand in the road through Alabaster woods. Step three: Whistle and he will come. Step four: Dispose of the bones.

He was feeding something. It was something that lurked in the shadow. Something that made the people run with sheer horror. He never saw it. The voice that gave him instructions told him not to look. So, he kept his eyes trained ahead. Every year. Every birthday, Ethan followed the four steps never sneaking a glance at what brought upon the people's grisly demise.

In front of a verdant bush, Ethan stood. His bare feet tingled on the clover sprinkled dirt patch. The bush began to shake and Ethan took a step back pulling the gun from his waistband. The click of the gun as Ethan let a bullet slip into the chamber did nothing to stop the birds' morning symphony. It was probably a rabbit but Ethan wanted to be prepared. The bush shook more violently. Ethan took a couple of steps back aiming the gun at the shrubbery. A tan arm slid from under the bush and Ethan tightened his grip around the gun's handle. A leg slipped out and then a head full of auburn hair followed.

"Stop!" Ethan shouted aiming the pistol at the head lying on the dirt. "I will shot."

"Ethan!" The head popped up with gleeful eyes.

"Eric!" Ethan lowered the gun. "Are you okay?"

Eric sat on his hunches. "Hell no!" He pushed himself up off the ground. "I slept in a bush! I killed someone! Jordan and Yas—" He froze.

"I don't want to know." Ethan stuffed the gun back in his waistband. "Ignorance is bliss." He queasily smirked.

Eric's emotions were pushed back at bay. "Plus...I itch." He scratched at the red blotches running down his arms and up his neck. "All night...I itched." He whimpered like a teething puppy.

"That's because..." Ethan scratched his eyebrow hoping he didn't catch it from the gust of wind that blew over them. He pointed to the bush, "That's poison ivy."

Eric glanced back at the bush, "Poison ivy!" He stumbled away from the bush almost bumping into Ethan.

"Aye, man!" Ethan rushed away from him. "That shit's contagious." Ethan stopped laughing as his nose picked up on a familiar aroma. "You smell that?"

Eric stopped scratching to inhale deeply. "Pine. Dirt. Dirt and pine." He began roughly rubbing the blotches.

"No." Ethan sniffed deeper. "Pumpkin...cloves." He took in more air. "And blood."