Chương 89: The Drop That Eclipses the Forest

The Creature continued standing there with that same insane grin, saliva still trickling in a thin stream from the corner of its nonexistent mouth, dripping onto the red cloak, leaving dark, damp stains that spread wider across the fabric. Its three eyes remained motionless, frozen, as though painted onto a black-and-white canvas, devoid of any movement, any life.

But upon noticing the fear in Lloyd's eyes, it seemed to snap back to itself, as though surfacing from some deep trance of its own, and color slowly began returning to it — faint at first, then more distinct, until the red cloak blazed once more with its former, vivid hue. Wiping its mouth with one hand — a gesture strangely mundane, almost human — it spoke with a light, mock regret in its voice. — Ah, what a shame you can't actually be killed here. You would've made a fine addition to my collection of souls.

The Creature glanced upward, as though studying something invisible to ordinary eyes, tilting its head thoughtfully to one side, the cloak on its shoulders shifting faintly, and then lowered all three of its eyes back onto Lloyd, the look heavy, clinging, leaving the impression that it was studying him not from the outside, but from within, as though those eyes saw far more than any ordinary observer ever should. — I'll be back for you.

It slowly turned toward the barely-alive Casper, lying at the base of the tree in a pool of his own blood, his breathing reduced to a faint, ragged wheeze, his eyelids fluttering as though he were struggling to hold on to consciousness. — For all of you.

Suddenly the Creature began tracing a finger through the air, leaving behind a dark, viscous trail that writhed like smoke from an extinguished candle, lingering in the still air of the clearing a couple of seconds longer than the laws of ordinary physics should allow, as though the air itself refused to let it go.

From the horror frozen on Casper's face — the only sign of life still flickering in his mangled body, the only thing betraying that he remained conscious — Lloyd understood that whatever this was, it boded nothing good.

It traced strange characters and patterns in the air, complex, interweaving lines forming something resembling an ancient, forgotten cipher, each line seeming heavy, charged with some invisible, oppressive force, and then enclosed the entire drawing within a circle, sealing it with one smooth, almost dance-like motion of its finger.

A moment later, the completed symbol flared with a dim, otherworldly light, pulsing in time with the beat of some invisible heart, and slowly began dissolving into the air, breaking apart into tiny particles resembling glowing dust. But as it faded, every drop of moisture lying on the ground — dew, blood, remnants of melted ice — began rising upward, tearing away from the surface with a quiet, wet sound, as though the earth itself were exhaling them, releasing itself from some invisible burden.

Even the beads of sweat on Lloyd's own forehead and temples lifted off his skin and drifted slowly toward the sky, leaving behind a light, ticklish sensation, as though some foreign, unrelenting will were drawing something intimate out of him, something that had no business being taken. Stolen story; please report.

Lloyd found it hard even to lift his head, every movement sending dull pain through his entire body, his joints creaking like rusted hinges, his lungs scorched by the hot, smoke-laden air scratching at his throat with every breath. But gathering the last remnants of strength left in his exhausted body, he still managed to roll onto his back and fix his gaze upward, into the smoke-choked sky, still trembling from the recent battle, the glow of the fire staining the low clouds a troubling shade of crimson.

There, high above the forest, an enormous sphere of water hovered, rapidly expanding, drawing in every drop of moisture it could find in the surrounding area — from the leaves, from the ground, from the air itself, from the very soil — growing bigger and bigger with every passing second, reflecting in its murky, trembling surface the distorted, elongated silhouettes of the trees and the scorched clearing below, like some gigantic, mocking mirror.

Lloyd swallowed, tasting the bitter tang of blood, feeling a fresh wave of icy dread spreading inside him, cinching around his chest like a band of ice, refusing to let him draw a full breath.

"What in the world is even happening here..." Suddenly the sphere stopped growing, hanging motionless in the air, as though held in place by an invisible hand, as though gravity itself had forgotten its existence for a moment, leaving this colossal, menacing eye suspended in the sky.

The Creature spread its arms wide, all of its numerous limbs at once, the red cloak billowing out behind it like the wings of some colossal, otherworldly bird preparing to take flight, its voice ringing out with mock, saccharine ceremony. — Do accept my gift.

And then the sphere began to fall — slowly at first, inexorably gaining speed, transforming into a colossal droplet, a droplet that seemed capable of eclipsing the entire forest, casting a rapidly expanding shadow beneath it, terrifying in its sheer size, swallowing the last remnants of daylight, plunging the clearing into premature twilight.

The Creature bowed mockingly, a deep, theatrical bow, its cloak brushing against the ground, sweeping up ash and charred grass, as though performing the final scene of some twisted theatrical production. — On that note, I'll be taking my leave.

It pulled at the edge of its cloak, drawing it tighter around its own body, as though wrapping itself in a cocoon, preparing to vanish, and a second later it disappeared without a sound, leaving behind nothing but the empty, lifeless red cloak hanging in the air, floating in the spot where it had just stood, like a ghost of itself.

But even that began to draw inward, shrinking, as though pulled by some invisible force, the folds of fabric collapsing one after another, until it condensed into a tiny, pulsing dark sphere no bigger than a coin, which flickered with a faint, dying light for another moment or two before finally going dark.

And just like that, not even a trace of the Creature remained — no sound, no smell, not the slightest disturbance in the air, as though it had never appeared here at all, as though this entire nightmarish encounter had been nothing more than a product of Lloyd's fevered, pain-wracked mind.