"This call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system for," The call message changed suddenly. "Emrys!" Hunter suddenly heard.
In the background, he could hear a deep-voiced someone yell "Arthur" like he had the past five times he tried calling the two.
Hunter hung up before he had to leave a voicemail. It would only add to the other 4 he had left.
Emrys/Merlin was a spirit demon and apparently a little bitch who wouldn't answer his calls. He just wanted to talk.
Well, answers. Hunter wanted answers.
For once in his fucking life, he just wished someone would talk to him.
Why was he mated to a demon?
Why did he have these runes?
What the fuck was happening with Emrys/Merlin and Arthur? Just Camelot in general. What the fuck.
Three simple questions Hunter had and he couldn't help but think he wasn't asking for much. Why couldn't the universe have sent Zekaj to him along with a pamphlet of all the shit that was going to happen to them?
Hunter sniffled which was followed by a sneeze and a cough. He sighed, now was not the time to get sick like this.
He hadn't been feeling the best since returning from the Spirit World. It felt like his body was spent and wasn't in the mood to regain any energy at all.
Standing up from his bed, Hunter headed downstairs slowly as each step down the stairs reminded him just how tired he was of walking.
Teleporting from Maine to Wisconsin had taken its toll on him. Zekaj always made it sound so easy, but to him, it felt like trekking through Antarctica. If Antarctica was pitch black and probably colder, which sounded crazy to think about.
The medicine cabinet in the kitchen luckily had some old cold medicine in the cupboard that he hoped would kill the virus before it made him sicker. He wasn't exactly sure how the flu worked.
Hunter took the giant green nighttime cold pills and jumped when the front door opened up.
Jaxon carried in a bucket of fried chicken which had some black containers of what Hunter assumed were sides.
His father looked him up and down and stopped when he got back to his face.
"You're really pale, are you feeling ok?" Jaxon asked his son, setting the food on the kitchen table.
Before Hunter could say anything, his father put his hand on his forehead and held it there.
Hunter went to say something but was interrupted again. "You don't got a fever, you're freezing cold though Hunter. Have you been outside?"
"I think it's just a cold dad, it's that time of the year," Hunter said, finally getting the chance to speak.
"There's some Nyquil in the cupboard you should take some before you head to-"
It was Hunter's turn to interrupt as he spoke up.
"I just took some," Hunter said, sneezing right after.
"Well you better eat quickly then, that stuff'll knock you right out."
Jaxon grabbed Hunter a plate and set the two down for them. Grabbing utensils and napkins as well.
His father had only gotten eight pieces for the two of them and a side of mashed potatoes and gravy. Hunter didn't feel very hungry but knew if he didn't eat anything his dad would be worried as he had been for the past couple of weeks.
He settled on a chicken thigh and a bit of mashed potatoes. That wasn't enough for his dad apparently.
"You really need to eat more, kid, get some meat on those bones." His father said suddenly.
"I'm not that hungry," Hunter said truthfully. He knew he hadn't been eating as much as he should, he had felt hungry before, but most of the time he just didn't feel like getting out of bed to eat. This was one of the rare occasions where the food was there so there was no reason not to eat.
"You can't not be hungry. You barely eat, there's gotta be some rumbling going on in there." Jaxon waved his fork in Hunter's direction making circle motions with it.
Hunter just shrugged his shoulders and went to clean his plate off.
The plate suddenly felt heavy as he carried it to the sink like it suddenly weighed thousands of pounds. It dropped into the sink with a bang as he could no longer hold onto it.
The weighing feeling didn't leave his arms and lingered. Now instead of the plate weighing him down, it was his whole arm. It felt like his arm was about to rip off right at the elbow.
Until it didn't. And the pain just left. Hunter rubbed his right arm and turned back towards the table and saw his dad immediately look back down at his plate of food. He had been watching him.
Hunter quickly walked past him, whispering a quick good night. His father returned the same to him, wishing him sweet dreams.
The door to his room turned open quietly and he quickly walked in, ramming his foot into his book bag on the floor.
Hunter hissed at the pain that shot up his foot and sat at the foot of his bed. He slipped off his jeans and didn't put on any pajama pants considering Zekaj's sweatshirt hid most of that area due to its size.
With one strong heave, Hunter pulled the book bag up to his bed. He crawled to the back and quickly emptied it out of the water and tea he had brought. The thermoses were left sitting on the nightstand, Hunter decided to empty them out tomorrow.
About to set it on the ground, Hunter remembered one last thing in it. His eyes drooped low as sleepiness tried its best to knock him out. Hunter questioned why he hadn't taken any cold medicine when he was having so much trouble sleeping since Zekaj was taken from him.
In the front pocket of his bookbag was the polaroid of Zekaj. It was the same as when he had put it in.
Zekaj held it up high enough that Hunter's face could barely be seen sunken into Zekaj's strong back muscle.
This one photo reminded him about everything he loved about Zekaj.
How he acted cruelly to everyone but him. How he wasn't actually a terrifying monster but an adorable romantic who showed his love in an obnoxiously horny way.
The way his hair never seemed to lay flat even with a bucket of water on it. Parts of it always seemed to be spiking backward.
The veins that rippled across parts of his arms as if he had just gotten done working out. The golden lines and runes fit perfectly against his ever-tanned skin.
The neatly trimmed beard added to his adorableness that could quickly seem sinister with just one quick slant of his eyebrows.
He missed laying on his favorite pillow that was Zekaj's pecs. How the prickles of his chest hair felt against his cheek, reminded him of the feeling of kissing Zekaj with the beard he had going on.
Hunter remembered how long it took to convince Zekaj to grow out the rest of his beard from its usual thick-chinstrap-thing he had when he first summoned Zekaj. It angled his face in a way that made him seem evil, which was the intent.
Slipping the photo back into its bedside table. Hunter watched as it silently fell on top of the silver-bound book. The one that was locked, Hunter thought.
The one that needed a key. Hunter said in his head.
The book was a dark purple color and the spine was this metallic silver that was cold to the touch. Zekaj and him had found the book at the Institute a while ago and it sat in the table for so long.
The cover and the back of the book were collapsed together by the same metallic silver that the spine was made of. Zekaj had spent a couple of hours trying to pry it open but quickly gave up muttering how magic was stupid.
Hunter crawled to the edge of the bed and wiped his runny nose. He pulled his pants up and found the silver key in his back pocket, right where he left it.
There is no way. Hunter thought yawning to himself. His eyelids weighed down on him as he laid against his pillows.
Hunter held the book up and slowly pushed the key into the lock.
This is stupid.
Hunter turned the key.
And the key dissolved into his hand.
The lock falling right off the book and onto his chest.
Hunter's heart threatened to jump right out of his chest as he opened the book to the first page.
This spellbook belongs to:
Merlin
A/N:
Wow, what a coincidence.
Right?
Chapter 52 will be up later tonight on Patreon.com/Mek_14
-MEK<3