Some say he possesses mystical powers. Some say he is a source of pure evil. Others say he spreads joy to the places he visits. Very few people have ever seen what’s beneath the hood. Very few people know who he truly is.
The Wanderer sat alone on the mountainside, leaning against his staff for support. Storm clouds were gathering, and it was his intention to reach the next village before the first hint of night fell. He slowly gathered his shadowy robes, preparing himself for the trek through the rocky hillside. The Wanderer knew that the villagers would be wary of his mysterious arrival, with parents hiding their children from the streets as soon as he set foot on the entrance road. Glancing over the crown of the hill, his dark eyes scanned the landscape before him, with a haunting smile crossing his wicked face. Even the trees seemed to bend away from him in fear, with their hefty limbs whipping back with a gust of wind sudden enough to frighten their roots out of the ground.
The Wanderer began his deadly dance into the village outskirts, a wicked hyena cackling at his newfound prey. Under the dim glow of the oil lamps, children stood stock-still, as they realised just who was creeping upon their previously safe haven of a home. Rosy colours dropped from the children’s cheeks, turning them into figures as pale as the fabled graveyard ghosts from their storybooks. Sprinting feet hit the ground as bunches of small figures scrambled out of the streets, and the sound of slamming doors trailed behind them. A twisted grin arced across The Wanderer’s face, as he sauntered to the nearest house, outreaching his haunting hand to the weathered handle, and a creaking sound sprung from the hinges as he pushed it open.
A huddled bunch of figures sat crouched in the dark corners of the front rooms, trembling in fear of the nightmarish figure on their doorstep. A mother clung onto her child, a small boy who looked to be around 10 years of age. “You.” A single word escaped The Wanderer’s thin lips, as he raised a hand to point at the boy. A harrowing scream left his mother’s body, as she realised her precious child was being taken from her, but the boy let off a different energy. He leapt up bravely, showing his childish arrogance even in the face of the monster that he’d been warned about since he was as young as he could remember. “I’m not scared! Take me away, I bet you’re harmless under your cloak.” The boy’s bold words rang out through the room, and The Wanderer approached him. He outstretched an arm once more, this time grabbing hold of the boy’s collar. A dash of smoke filled the room, and suddenly the pair were gone.
The boy blinked open his eyes, stunned by his new surroundings, a dimly lit cave filled with mysterious objects, and groups of other children sleeping peacefully on the floors around him. “Where, where am I?” The boy mumbled to himself, realising he’d regretted his boldness to come with The Wanderer. Suddenly, The Wanderer himself turned to the boy, opening his mouth to speak once again, “Sleep.” The boy’s eyes closed forcefully, and even though he tried to fight it, his eyes closed against his will, and he drifted off, blissfully unaware that his eyes wouldn’t open forevermore, he was the latest victim to fall under The Wanderer’s spell …
Recent Comments