WALL MEN: A Haunted House (The Wall Men 1)

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

That thing is getting closer. I’m going to have to run again, but how far will I get? I ache so badly. I need my king. I know he would never hurt me. Uhrn is stupid. She’s a jealous bitch. She wants him for herself.

I hold still as the footsteps approach, coming up behind me. I’m about to sprint when I catch a shadowy glimpse of the creature.

That is not the hamster. I don’t know what it is. Upper half wolf. Lower half naked man.

It looks at me, snapping and snarling.

“Back the fuck off.” I grab a stick from the ground and hold it out.

The thing takes its claw and starts stroking itself, grunting.

What the…? I’m pretty sure it doesn’t just want to eat me. I back away slowly, waving the stick. “I mean it. I’ll kill you. Stay away.”

The thing moves closer, vigorously pumping its claw over its penis.

Shit. Whatever I’m doing, the thing is getting more excited.

“It smells your fear,” says a tiny voice. “They like that.”

I turn my head, but there’s no one there.

“Down here,” it says.

I look toward my snow boot, but I still don’t see anything.

“You stink of fear and human,” it says. “You won’t last a minute like that. Stop being afraid. Feel anger. Imagine that thing on top of you, having its way as it eats you alive.”

I don’t know who or what is speaking, but what choice do I have but to listen? “You touch me, I’ll bite the shit out of you. Fuck off, you fucking sick…masterbeast!”

The creature drops its hand and seems confused. It ducks behind a tree and watches me from there.

“You must hurry. The Skin is following you,” says the little voice.

“Who are you?” I look over my shoulder, but there’s nothing I can see. Not in this dark forest.

“Down here.”

A tiny shadow moves on the hem of my sweatpants. I can’t make out what it is.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“A friend of the king’s. And you are the human he is searching for. The War People’s proxy, yes?”

“Yes. Yes!” I’m saved. “I need to get back to the palace. I was forced to leave. If you could point the way, that’s all I want.” I try not to sound too nice or needy.

“It is that way.”

“I can’t see you.” I bend down, still unable to make out this tiny figure. “I can’t see where you’re pointing.”

“I will take you to him if I can have a taste.”

“Of what?” I ask.

“Of you. Just a nibble. We are so hungry…”

Crap. I jump and shake the thing off my pants. I start running again. I just want to get back to Benicio. He’ll be wondering where I am.

I keep going. The terrain is nothing like my world or the estate where I grew up. The trees are smaller with thin branches, but the leaves are bigger, like something you’d find in the tropics.

Doesn’t matter. You can do this. You know forests, I tell myself. I know how to walk and run on loose dirt with uneven surfaces. I could survive in the woods for days, if I had to. Grandma taught me a lot—how to make a fire and build a lean-to. How to fend off predators on the trail.

I go as fast as I can, looking for any place to hide until the sun comes up.

I burst out into a small grassy clearing. In the middle is my salvation. The tree is almost exactly like the one I used to climb when I was little, with a thick trunk that splits in two. I was always so afraid of climbing it and falling, but I tried again and again anyway. Something about how big the tree was made me want to conquer it. Then one summer, when I was twelve, I had a huge growth spurt. I cried almost every night from the pain in my legs, and there was no one to comfort me. Grandma Rain slept in the main house. Bard slept in his. My parents were gone by then, and my tutor wouldn’t come until morning. I remember that summer, though. Clear as yesterday. I made myself a PB&J, stuck it in my backpack with some water, and set out on my solo trek through the forest on our property.

When I came up on that big tree, something clicked inside. I saw myself climbing it. Not because I was taller or older but because I was ready to face the fear of falling if I slipped.

But I didn’t fall.

I made it all the way to the crook between the thick branches and ate my lunch with pride. I ate there almost every day for a month. It was my mountain, and I climbed it all by myself.

I look down and realize I’m once again wearing Bard’s sweats and shirt. Uhrn must’ve washed them and put them on me. Pretty kind for a person who claims to hate me, but the oversized clothes aren’t going to make climbing this tree easy.