Page 54 of Evil Hearts

Home… It seems like a foreign concept to me now. Did I ever really have a home? The thought of home seems different now like the world around me is slowly changing my beliefs. But I push those doubts away, shaking myself mentally to pull it together.

”Focus, Katie,” I murmur to myself, my hand gripping the hilt of my sword with more determination. “You can’t be someone you’re not. You’re here now, and you have a quest to finish. Stop trying to be Aelia and be Katie.”

I move through the forest, trying to ignore the strange tug in my chest, constantly pulling me toward the unknown. The trees around me shift and sway in the wind, their tall trunks forming an intimidating wall of brown that makes me feel small.

Find the Orc Innkeeper, and return him to the village. Find Ganesh. Simple enough. I don’t know how, but the objective is clear in my head, like a beacon I can’t ignore. I have to find Ganesh. There is nothing else that matters. And as my trek slowly continues through the hours, it’s easy to forget who I used to be.

As I walk on, I begin to hear something behind me. Soft at first, a whisper in the wind I can’t quite catch, but I have the unmistakable feeling of being hunted. And the farther I go, the louder it gets, always growing closer. Footsteps. They aren’t even trying to hide them anymore, the sound of twigs snapping under heavy boots echoing through the trees.

I freeze in place, my heart beating in my throat as I do a slow turn, searching for the source of the sound. Though, I already know who it’ll be. No one comes this far into Devilwood for fun. Bandits.

My breath hitches as the noise grows closer, too close for comfort. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my mind races. In the game, bandits are easy to deal with, just a pain because they attack in groups. But they’re predictable and easy targets for someone with Aelia’s skills. But here, I’m just Katie, and these bandits aren’t pixels or code.

I grip my sword tighter, my palms slick with sweat as I glance around the trees. Shadows stretch over the forest floor, confusing my senses, when the footsteps stop. I don’t move a muscle.

It’s as I stand here quietly, no longer trapped within my thoughts, that I realize I can hear more acutely. Small noises my human ears shouldn’t have been able to pick up. Like the soft breathing of a man standing nearby. I can see the small shifts in the energy around me, knowing where the bandits are hiding.

Holy. Shit.

Maybe my Rogue powers just needed time to warm up, or maybe my human body needed time to meld with the world around it. Either way, I’m not wasting any time sticking around to fight the bad guys when I’m not even sure how.

The bandits are louder now, not even trying to be quiet with their jovial hoots. They crunch through the foliage,congratulating each other on a job well done; catching an Orc is almost unheard of. They’ll fetch a pretty penny for his head.

I don’t move, not trusting my body to do it quietly. Instead, I close my eyes, chanting the word Vanish in my head over and over. Surely, if my senses are getting better, I can finally use some of Aelia’s tricks?

How does one know when Vanish works anyway? It’s not like I’m looking down at myself and seeing my body disappear like I would if I were home. Do I just assume it does since my senses work, or is that as far as it goes? It’s too late to run, and I’m more likely to maim myself than hurt the bandits if I try to fight.

The cacophony of Bandit noises fades around me, and I breathe a shallow breath of relief. Until pain erupts in my neck, where the edge of a sharp blade slowly presses against it.

Chapter Six

My eyes pop open, and it takes everything in me not to pull away from the face just inches from mine. His face is haggard, covered in dirt, and missing teeth. Scars mar most of his skin, some old and some newer. His hair is matted and dirty, tied back with a torn piece of cloth.

But the worst part about him, minus the sword to my throat bit, is his stench. My eyes water, as it hits me. The rotten smell that comes from years of decay, mixed with sweat and piss. His clothes are mismatched and pieced together, torn in places that had once been stabbed, sliced, and gouged.

Understanding dawns that they smell and look the way they do, because they wear the clothes of their victims, and I fight not to slice my throat on his rusty knife. Video Game graphics could never bring these guys to life quite this well, and I have a brief sense of wonder at the magic of it all. Should I be worried that the world around me no longer matches its graphics? Is it safe for me to be merging so flawlessly into the world around me? I’m not sure.

His smile stretches across his face as he presses the blade more firmly to my throat, and it’s a smile that will haunt my nightmares for years to come… if I survive long enough to have nightmares.

A man steps up next to him, looking eerily similar to the one in front of me as he giggles maniacally. He walks in a circle around me, twirling my braid through his fingers.

Before I can listen to the twisted things he no doubt wants to say, a man steps out from behind a tree. He’s tall, and though his face is slightly scarred, there’s a strange beauty that surrounds him. His white hair hangs shaggily down his shoulders, and I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before. His clothes match in ways the others don’t, almost like the leader needs more respect than the peons. Thick cords hang at each of his sides, metal spikes glinting at the ends.

Whips. I swallow back the bile that threatens to come up as his eyes glint with cold amusement.

“Well, well. What have we here?” the bandit sneers, his deep voice having a strange musical lilt. “A lost little adventurer, out here all alone?”

My mouth is dry as panic rises in my chest, but I force myself to stay still. Just think. I know how I would act if I was Aelia. Attack first, quick and decisive. Leave no one alive to ask questions or cause problems later. But my hands are shaking, and there is nothing familiar about this situation.

I take a deep breath, preparing to backstep into the bandit caressing my hair if only to escape the sword currently hugging my neck. But before I can chant “Sprint” in my head, it’s too late.

The lead bandit guesses my next move, lunging forward with his axe in a wide arc.

Instinctively, I spin away, twirling in Tweedle Dum’s arm and forcing the sword at my throat toward his chest. Tweedle Dee gasps in shock, glancing down at the sword protruding from his friend’s chest, but it’s short-lived as the axe, once coming for my own head, slices cleanly through his arm holding the sword.

I scramble away from the three bandits, tugging at the strap holding my daggers, and try to release them, but the leadbandit is already closing in, ignoring the screams from his fallen brethren.

Think, Katie. Think!

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