[Spookhouse]

“What can I do for you boys?” the abundant man says, staring down at the boys. His face is covered with festering boils oozing black coagulated blood. The base of the blisters is surrounded with rotting skin, peeling and flakey. Michael and James can only stare at the man, speechless and breathing heavy. “Well speak up.” he shouts, taking a step out the door.

“We were just looking for a place to stay, we thought it was abandoned…honest.” scampers James laying stunned on the ground next to Michael, eyes wide.

“Well as you boys can see this place is far from abandoned so if you don’t mind please be on your way.” Mountain states sternly, his eyes black staring from behind a face of festering, rotting skin. Pieces of skin falling from his face as he looks between the boys. Parts of his gum line revealed due to the degeneration of the chaffed rind that used to be skin.

“But sir, we’ll only be here for the night, and we would like to stay here.” James stutters, his heart throbbing in his chest. “We won’t be any trouble we promise.” The mans eyes dart between Michael and James. His eyes strong and stern even though his face was weak and rotting.

The bulky man drops his lips into a decaying smile and says, “Sure, why not. Get your things and come in.” He motions with his hand and turns walking into the clay house through the doorway. Michael and James slip each other a wide eyed glance and stand up. Dusting themselves off they follow the mans path through the doorway and into the mud hut.

As they enter the house they look around too find a log table, made just like the door, next to a small cooking fire. Over the fire hangs a metal pot with steam pouring out and a large spoon sitting a top the pot. The buff rotting man sits in a chair made from bones wrapped together tightly with more thick vines and next to this man tending the fire under the pot is a boy. A boy who is just a bit younger then Michael and James themselves. His hair also long and black, but he was not bulky or buff like the older man. No this boy was tall and slender, his muscles cut with definition. Nor was his skin rotting and falling off, no blisters among his body, only smooth skin. The boy eyes Michael and James with the same stern look the older man had given them outside as they laid in the dirt.

“My name is Mountain, and this is my son Hawk. Welcome to our home. Please have a seat, dinner will be ready soon.” Mountain says smiling and motioning towards two bone chairs sitting around the table. Hawk continues to eye the two as he stirs the spoon inside the metal pot. Mountain begins to cough violently and moves his hands to his face covering his mouth. He hacks and wheezes into his palms and when he removes them from his mouth they are covered in chunks of bloody bits and purple lung.

Hawk hurries to a corner next to the table and grabs a dirty red and black rag and handing it to his father he says, “Are you ok father?”. His voice strong and filled with concern.

“I’m fine boy.” rumbles Mountain through his coughing fit his hands holding the rag around his face. As he coughs the rotting boils crack and spill more coagulated black liquid down onto the rag. “Serve these boys some of that stew, it should be done by now.” , he says through the rag. Hawk nods and reaches for two clay bowls and fills them both with steaming brown slop. He slides them down the table to both Michael and James.

The boys eat greedily out of their bowls, the brown stew dripping out of the corner of their mouths. “You boys aren’t headed towards Daurot are you?” Mountain asks earnestly. Hawk looks toward his father swiftly, his brow lowered.

“Honestly sir, we haven’t thought that far ahead. And we really don’t know where we’re going.” James spits out , his mouth full of stew. Pieces of liquid and meat flying from his mouth and landing on the table. Hawk’s eyes staring towards them both, his brow still low, his face stern. Michael still slurping down the contents of his clay bowl, sitting quietly, letting James do the talking.

“Well let me be the first to tell you. Daurot is a bad place. The land is charred and fried from the fires that have blazed across it. Acres upon acres of people have been butchered, including my own wife.” Mountain says, holding the rag in one hand as he continues to speak. “A beast has ravaged the once beautiful land of Daurot. A beast so terrible that its hunger never dies, its appetite for death and carnage never fully ceases. And closer it comes this way, closer it travels, burning a path through every land it comes across. “

Hawks eyes switch between the two boys at the end of the table and his fathers words. Hawk remembers all too well the carnage that was bestowed upon them. He remembers the fires, the burning, the smoke rising over the hillside and clouding the sky. The smell of scorched human flesh, charred trees and melted grass. Hawks remembers how his mother cried and cried for help, how he could hear her through the smoke. He remembers following her cries for help through the smoke and finding her, laying on the ground . Her blackened arms reaching towards him, stretching for him, his arms reaching towards her roasted and bloodied body. Running towards her, arms outstretched, hoping to reach her in time. But as his feet carried him through the smoke to his scorched mother, she was dragged back into the smoke by a loud guttural grunt that stopped him dead in his tracks.

Mountain coughs into his rag a mess of blood and lung. “I want you boys to do me a favor.” he says. “I want you two to take Hawk here with you as you go find your father. He needs to avenge his mothers death and stop this beast from reaching the ends of the earth.” Mountain says through another coughing fit.

“With us?” James asks, his bowl empty and sitting in front of him.

“Yes, with you.” Mountain replies. “I would go myself but as you can see by the looks of me I’m not in the best condition. So my son will be the one to restore honor to our family. “

“If you don’t mind me askin`, what are you sufferin` from?” James asks as Michael finishes his bowl of stew and sets it in front of himself on the table, wiping his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. Hawk stands firm next to the table in silence still eyeing both boys.

“I’m not sure boys. See I was walking back from hunting in the Green Woods and as I came to a waterfall I spotted a flower. A flower I had never seen before.” Mountain says through his coughing and wheezing. “It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Its blue petals were infused with silver and purple lines zig -zagging down the inside. Its steam was long and purple with silver and blue veins running down its length. The petals lay twisted in the shape of a bright sun.” he states.

The boys listen carefully, their eyes stuck on Mountains eyes. His gaze holding their attention as he continues his story, “I reached over and I tried to pick the flower, to bring it back here. It was so awe-inspiring that I had to have it. But as I touched it, my fingers grew cold and my body felt sick. I collapsed on to the ground and started spitting up blood and flesh.” Michael and James sit with mouths and eyes wide open as they listen to Mountains tale. “By time I had gotten home my face was peeling and oozing with blood.”

Hawks eyes stay fixed upon Michael and James as he looks them over. There is no way the can keep up with me he thought to himself. These boys are puny and weak, they’ll need more then a dream and some to survive this journey. “But I think you boys best be off to bed, you’ll need your rest.” Mountain says as he stands up, rag still in hand. “You can sleep out here tonight, tomorrow though you’ll need to be off early, so make sure you sleep well.” And within a few blinks of an eye Mountain and Hawk had walked into another room leaving Michael and James to sleep.

Inside the other room Mountain looks to his son and ask him to sit on the ground. Hawk does and Mountain walks to a far wall and shuffles some things around . He returns shortly with a black rag concealing two hand made weapons. “These are the Tools of the Forest my son. They has belonged to our ancient people for centuries and were crafted by the last great druid.” Mountain conveys to Hawk. “It is your duty son to avenge your mother and stop this plague from consuming us all.”

Hawk jumps to his feet holding both the dagger and hatchet in either hand. He looks his father in the eyes and says, “Yes father, I will avenge mother, I will avenge our people, and I will stop this evil from spreading. It will no longer hold reign over our lives, over our land.”

Mountain smiles and says, “Very good my son, now rest. Tomorrow your journey beings.”