Not real. It couldn’t be.
But it was. The thing crouched on six spindly legs that were sheathed in
fur and glistening mucus. Its head was almond shaped, ringed by hundreds of
eyes. Two pairs of wings haltingly rose from its segmented back. They were
decrepit, moth-like things, decorated with hypnotic, iridescent patterns.
Wake up! commanded the voice in my soul.
But I didn’t, and I stood motionless as the thing’s long, narrow head
slowly split open vertically like a Venus flytrap, revealing rows of teeth and a
fine purple tendril of a tongue that unwound and snaked toward me.
I would have wet myself, but I didn’t even have control over that. I was a
statue.
Its hot, wet, reeking breath rolled over me as its tongue slipped across my
chest and neck, leaving a trail of mucus. But rather than bite me in half, the
monster withdrew its head, arched its back, and curled its hindlegs
underneath its body, then reached forward with a pair of glistening, clawed
talons.
A howl tore through the back of my mind, the piercing wail of despair of
a chained beast. But for a second, my eyes had enough freedom to turn away
from the horror and look up into the night sky.
Behind the monster, a pillar of rising clouds boiled into the shape of a
black wolf against the starlit sky.
What the fuck?
I will free you, if you free me. The words boomed in my mind.
It wasn’t the voice of the sorcerer or of the monster. Or the voice in my
soul that kept urging me to wake up. It was a voice that shook my thoughts
and being to my very core.
There was no way for me to respond, only desperate, confused hope.
Suddenly, agony jolted through my body, and a knife-like pain shot
through my fingers and teeth.
I screamed. With my own voice this time. Moving my own mouth. My