The Child Dreamer: A Dead Dreamer Prequel

Chapter Six: Exposed

Neither Catori nor the Medicine Man made mention of my visit with the spirits or the fire that night. Not until years later. But they kept a watchful eye. Because of this, by the time I turned fourteen, most of the tribe was back to treating me the same. They still feared me, but they had become much better at hiding it. It mattered little to me.

Catori would try and pull me into the ceremonial dances whenever she had the chance. It was her way of letting me know she did not blame me for the blindness she now had in her burned eye. From time to time, she remind me it wasn't my fault.

The entertaining part was, I knew it was not my fault. It was her own for disturbing the spirits. They merely used my fire as their weapon. There was nothing I could have done to stop it. But, regardless, I smiled and thanked her for her generosity. Although she was a foolish woman, she was the kindest to me in the entire tribe. She was the mother I never had and wished to keep.

The Medicine Man made it his goal to watch over me during the nights. He had them build a smaller hut across from the longhouse I had been sleeping in. It was in part to keep me at a safe distance in case I started a fire, but also to keep a watchful eye over me as I entered the Land of the Dead each night. 

He continued to take the time to teach me all he knew about the spirits, hoping the education would reflect in my beliefs. On rare occasions, Catori would feel up to exploring the Land of the Dead with me, seeing all there was to see. But neither of them would let me out of their sight.

They both chose to avoid the spirits of the forest, however. No matter the phase of the moon, they wouldn't let me wander too close to any ancient door. Only a few months after my thirteenth birthday did they start to allow me freedom again. For a time, I listened and obeyed their rules. But it wasn't meant to last.

For that night, I stalked my prey as it flew toward another village nearby. This village was different from my last. The residents were happier, and seemed content to spend their money in taverns after the sun had set. While others made their way to the church for evening prayer. Even the children were still out to play despite the sunless sky. 

The demons had sense their happiness, and were ready to destroy it. This evening was the night I would return to my vengeful ways. One that shook me to my core. Now, I can only look back and chuckle as the event. I was reckless, and walked freely; never afraid of being seen or discovered.

The demon I had been stalking was like the rest. Before making it's way to the village, it would drop acorns to disturb the smaller wildlife, and throw the fallen ones at the deer that were nearby. After the third time, when the deer stopped running, it grew bored and focused on the village again.

I stayed in the shadows, focusing all of my energy on keeping my presence unknown. It had no inkling it was being followed as it flew towards the local priest's home. He was an older man, with wrinkles defining every inch of his face, and hair that had balded from the top, but still fell to his shoulders from the sides. There was no hint that he had ever smiled once in his life. He reminded me of my father. 

Tonight was the same as any other. As he sat in his homemade chair, next to his small fire that burned in his fireplace. He read the Bible in Latin, out loud. His voice matched the lines on his face as he read. From time to time, he would pause, chuckle to himself, mark something down in his notes before continuing. He was preparing for the next service.

Before the demon had a chance to reach him, there was a knock at the door. As the priest grunted and stood from his chair, he made his way to the other room to discover who his late visitor was. Only then did I realize I was no longer hidden.

The demon turned to point at me and in a raspy voice, it spoke to me, "Unnatural. Disrupting. Stop. Or they'll come."

Angered by it's audacity to even speak to me, I raised my arm to strike it. But before I could swing, it bolted from the room. It flew toward the room with the priest and his guest for the evening.