Feast (Harvest of Dreams #1)

Maddie:

The fog swept closer, the trees towered overhead and the forest filled with menacing shadows. Somewhere in the distance a bird took flight and my stomach wrenched at the unexpected sound. I fought a scream, pressed a knuckled fist to my mouth. With a quick glance, I scanned the surrounding area, checking to see if there was anyone else around.

Like whoever had killed the man who now lay on the ground.

The woods were empty, so I switched on my video, then took a cautious step closer to the body, leaning down to pick up a long stick with my free hand. Using the stick, I tapped the legs, checking to see if maybe, hopefully, the person lying on the ground was just asleep. He didn’t move. With a flick of my wrist, I started brushing the leaves away, uncovering the body.

I saw two legs and a torso.

Strange.

The body looked flat. Like all the life had somehow been drained out. I’d never seen anything like it. And there—at the neck—were two bloody puncture wounds, some sort of bite.

It hit me then, the whiff of death, the realization that this truly was a dead body.

My stomach lurched and I turned aside and retched.

Then I wiped my mouth and lifted my head.

At that moment, a rushing wind surged through the forest, but it didn’t move the branches or stir the leaves. I dropped the stick and stepped away from the body. Whatever this noise was, it was heading straight for me, getting louder, increasing in pitch. I spun on my heel, headed back toward the cabin and that was when I saw it—an almost invisible cloud of fog and bark, flying toward me through the trees. It grew blacker and more menacing as it approached—a thick gloom that blocked out the sun, turning the forest mists into thunderclouds.

Recognizable shapes began to emerge from the clouds: massive wings that soared to the sky, charcoal shadows that melted and turned into bodies, backs and chests covered with gray skin and leathery muscles, wild faces with sharp features and feral eyes and sharp, crooked teeth.

I screamed.

Then I ran as fast as I could, feet slipping on leaves, hands grasping at branches, all the while lunging forward.

“Help!” I screamed again.

But they were coming at me from two directions. I was surrounded by a heavy darkness that obscured everything, overshadowing both sky and earth.

Monsters.

Two of them.

I wasn’t going to get away.

I couldn’t see past the reach of my own arms. Still I ran, feet pounding dirt, faster and faster. My legs grew weary and my chest ached, but the landscape around me never changed.

I wasn’t moving.

Meanwhile, the shadowy creatures pressed closer. I tried to scream, but this time I couldn’t. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even cry out.

It was just like a nightmare.

Whatever these monsters were, they had me pinned in; they now blocked off the path back to the cabin and the trail that led up to the rocky cliffs.

Let me go, you’re not real, you can’t be— As soon as I thought that, the creatures suddenly fluttered and a white hole shattered through their black skin. For a moment, I surged forward, felt my feet gain purchase on the wood-chip trail and I spun a foot further away. The darkness around me faded, a small hole appeared right in front of me—just large enough for me to crawl through. I dropped to my knees and I scurried toward it.

Just then, one of the beasts snapped forward, leaped upon me with a snarl, teeth glittering. I fought him, beat fists against his chest, kicked against his legs. All the while, I could sense him sifting through my thoughts, as if reading my mind. Then I saw his eyes flash, bright and yellow, and I knew exactly what he was doing.

He was trying to fashion a nightmare from my secret fears.

“No!” I growled, baring my teeth.

They are my dreams, my visions, my hopes; not one of them belongs to you, nor ever shall. I will fight with all I have within me— “Nay, you will not escape me, my love,” the beast said.

He pushed me to the ground with a strong hand and then followed with a feathery incantation of his own, though I noticed that his words and chant were spoken too quickly and the rhythm wasn’t quite right. I knew then that he didn’t have the strength for this kind of battle.

Words were my kingdom, not his. I would find a way to break through his poetry, write my own song and spit the words in his face.

But even as I thought that I could feel myself growing sleepy.





Chapter 31

Words of Warning

Ash:

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