Wednesday, July 1, 2015

the hero approacheth

Dawn broke like floodgates, spilling too brightly through spiring stones. He awoke in panic. Light thrust painfully into his eyes as he thrashed madly on the flat and barren ground. His throbbing heart burst him into fits. Desperately, he pulled handfuls of sand and woody bush into his fists, seeking some small anchor to reality.

All the while, vicious black tendrils slithered through his sunbaked brain. Here and there the cruel fingers pressed, blocking some certain synapses and encouraging others. As the dry, hard heat of the place rose so fell any hope of his comfort or control.

He began to bulge out of his skin. It burst and bled through the weakest of his scars. Soon, his bones cracked beneath the terrible tension, piercing through his angry flesh, festooning him in jagged spines. The cursed wretch became something taught and hard, huge and rancorous.

Why must the hero have come today?! He lamented in fractured thoughts and strangled screams. He had dreamed so close to finding himself. He’d come so far through the lightless mazes.

He longed only to be free; he had little faith in the hero’s spear. 

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