Monster Adventurer
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I’m not sure how long it’s been since I got back to the inn, but my head is still spinning from all that happened. I can’t seem to think straight and every time I try I just remember more. The worst part of it was when he took off his mask; he had a face like someone who’d seen too many horrors in their life.
And now he’s gone again… and so are they. There were six of them: two men, one woman, and three girls. One of the women said she’d never leave me alone until we found out what made her laugh, but I don’t know if any of us will be able to get over this anytime soon.
It seems almost impossible at times, but even after all this, I can’t quite bring myself to believe that there really were monsters living among us.
The other guests have all come down for breakfast by now. Most of the men are wearing their masks, which makes sense since they’re probably worried about running into him somewhere outside or something.
They’ve all tried to avoid talking about it as much as possible, but they’ve all asked questions about what happened last night. None of us have anything good to tell them, though. We haven’t heard from the girl since she left with the man in black, either.
She’s supposed to call at least once per day, but no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I keep thinking about her. He was scary enough without knowing exactly who he was, but seeing his face has given me nightmares. Every time I close my eyes, I see his horrible grin and feel the cold touch of his hand on my cheek.
When I first came here, I thought the people would treat me differently because of my monster status, but everyone treated me exactly the same. Now I’m not sure why. Maybe they’ve decided they’ll accept monsters, whether they want to or not?
If only I could figure out why he wanted me so badly… I mean, he didn’t care about the rest of us at all. I doubt he’d have cared if I died. But then again, maybe he did. Monsters always do things like that, you know. That’s why I’m scared to death whenever I run into one.
I look around the room, wondering where to start writing today. The sun is bright and shining through the windows, making everything glow red. The tables are full of food—all kinds of different foods from all over the world. People are eating and drinking and laughing, and all I can think about is the way the monster touched me yesterday.
It feels wrong to sit here and eat while she’s gone, but I need the money. Besides, I can’t afford to stay home forever. My parents might not mind if I spent some days away, but they’d certainly worry if I went weeks or months.
Even if I told them the truth about being an adventurer, I bet they wouldn’t understand. All they’d ever see is the monster hunter’s daughter, not the monster herself. No wonder he didn’t take the mask off. His whole body was covered up in armor anyway, and I couldn’t see very well past his shoulders. But still…
I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. After I finish this entry, I plan to go downstairs and find out what the others have planned for today. Then I’ll make arrangements to leave. As hard as it may be, I have to let her go. Otherwise, I won’t be able to stop myself from going after her.
I don’t know how many monsters live around here, but I can’t imagine I’ll be able to fight them all alone. I hope he isn’t planning to attack us again tonight, but I don’t know what else to do. At least tomorrow, the streets should be safe.
“Hey! Did you hear about the guy?” A young boy walks into the inn, carrying a big book under his arm. “They say he killed twelve people!”
“Twelve?!”
Everyone turns to stare at me. For a second, I forget that I’m a monster. I stand there staring back at them all, feeling sick. Twelve lives were lost, and I was right there next to him.
And now he’s gone. Gone forever, leaving behind nothing but fear and sadness. How can I explain to anyone that I’m responsible for that? I wish I knew what he was trying to show me. What he was hoping to prove.
Was he telling me something important, or just messing with my head? I know it wasn’t a coincidence, but why would he choose me to talk to? Or perhaps it wasn’t me. Could he possibly have been trying to communicate with someone else? Someone human?
At least the kids aren’t asking any more questions about the murders. Nobody wants to hear bad news when they’re having fun. I grab a plate and load it with eggs, bacon, potatoes, sausage, toast, and orange juice, then walk over to join the crowd around the table.
I’m sitting at one of the booths in the corner, reading the latest edition of The Dragon-Slayer’s Journal. It’s filled with stories of the best and most famous heroes in the land, but there’s never much mention of the monsters living among us. The authors claim they’re too dangerous, so nobody writes about them unless they get caught breaking the law.
The newspaper itself is printed on heavy stock, with thick paper pages, but the ink is faded and smudged. Some of the articles are written by actual reporters, but most of them consist of letters sent in by readers.
There’s also a section of classified ads, where merchants can put notices of their wares for free. Right now, three women are haggling over the price of a small black pearl necklace. One of them claims the stone is worth ten gold coins, while another says five, and the third says two.
I watch them for a minute until one finally gives in and hands over enough silver to buy half a dozen newspapers. They laugh together and shake hands before heading off to their respective rooms.
Now I’m looking at the front page. In bold print, it reads:
A MASSIVE FIRE DESTROYS THREE HOUSES IN THE VILLAGE OF DAGGERFALL
There’s a picture of the burned houses in the bottom left corner, surrounded by firemen in protective gear. Apparently, no one was injured in the blaze. And since it happened last night, it must’ve been pretty serious. Three families were forced to spend the night outside because they had nowhere else to go, although the Red Cross promised to help those who suffered the worst.
Across the top of the article is a headline about a new bill that will give the government authority over private armies. Underneath it, it states that the measure has passed its first test vote, and is expected to pass within the month.
The only problem, according to the author, is that the law could open the door to other draconian measures such as martial law. People are already complaining that the military police are becoming far too aggressive. If the government starts giving soldiers orders to shoot citizens, we’ll really be in trouble.
Next, there’s an announcement from the local bank manager. He’s inviting customers to come in and check out the new safety deposit boxes that have recently arrived. These will hold your valuables during emergencies, and the bank will keep them secure in case anything happens.
You can even rent one for a few days if you want to travel somewhere without taking your belongings along. I turn to the business section. Most of these businesses seem to deal mostly with weapons, potions, armor, and magical items.
I see several advertisements for magic shops, each promising the lowest prices on rare treasures from the sea. Others offer swords, axes, daggers, bows, crossbows, shields, helmets, chain mail, and a thousand other things.
Right below the ad is a notice saying that the mayor has appointed a committee to look into ways to improve security around the city. He plans to make sure our guards are trained properly and equipped with the newest weapons.
That reminds me. When I was fighting the man in the alleyway, he said something strange. After he cut through my flesh, he turned to me and smiled. Then he laughed and looked down at himself.
“What did he mean?” I ask the waitress.
She looks confused for a moment, then smiles. “Oh, yes. That. He thinks it’s hilarious.”
I don’t understand. Why is everyone laughing about this? Is it some kind of joke? But it doesn’t sound like anyone knows either. A couple of men in suits across the room chuckle quietly to themselves and sip their drinks.
The waitress shakes her head, still smiling, and tells me not to worry about it. She points to the clock hanging above the bar. “You should probably hurry up and finish breakfast. We close at noon, and it takes an hour to clean all the dishes.”
When I pay my tab and walk back to the hotel, I find a large crowd gathered near the entrance. Two policemen stand guard at the doors. Every table is empty except for mine. From what I hear, the owner gave him a twenty percent discount. Even the old lady who usually sits here is gone.
Now people are standing around watching the commotion. As I approach, a group of young boys runs past. Their hair is shaggy and filthy, and their clothes smell bad. They’re giggling when they run, and I think maybe they’re playing a game.
It seems odd, though, that none of the adults are stopping them. Maybe they just didn’t notice. Or maybe they’re afraid of getting involved. Whatever the reason, the kids are acting out. Suddenly, they stop running, drop to the ground, and start crawling forward, slowly picking up speed. They’re making a terrible racket.
One of the officers turns toward me as I get closer. His eyes narrow, and his face pales. “We’ve got problems,” he says. “They’re coming right for us. Run!”
The kids are now charging straight toward the police. They scream as they race past, knocking people aside. Some of them trip and fall on their faces, but most of them are too fast. One boy jumps onto the sidewalk and knocks a woman off her feet before she can react. Her purse flies away from her and hits a car. Everyone laughs, even the cops, although their laughter sounds nervous.
As the kids reach the front door, the officer shoots two of them. They collapse immediately, but others jump over them and charge inside. Police fire their guns again and more children hit the floor. There’s screaming everywhere.
My stomach drops as I realize that the kids aren’t attacking the cops. They’re trying to hurt whoever they can. I’m shaking so badly I nearly forget how to breathe. This is awful. No one should have to suffer this way.
A police sergeant shouts, “Back! Back! Get behind the line!”
But it’s too late. More than ten kids are dead or dying on the ground outside, while the rest continue their attack on the restaurant. Bullets tear into the pavement nearby. People scream. Blood pools on the sidewalk. Screams echo throughout the street. Someone screams for help. Another person yells for silence.
Then, suddenly, the attack stops.
Police are shooting arrows from the rooftop, driving the children back. Arrows fly in every direction. Many of the boys dodge the arrows, but some of the younger ones don’t know how to move quickly enough. Soon there’s another pile of bodies on the sidewalk.
Some of the parents rush into the building to save their sons. Others sit paralyzed in shock, unable to believe what they see. Most parents don’t want to be separated from their children, and the sight makes them panic. Within seconds, there’s chaos everywhere.
Two men in dark blue uniforms step into the street and order the crowd to disperse. “Move along, folks,” says the first cop. “Don’t you know where you live?”
People start pushing against each other. Parents try to pull their kids apart. Kids cry. Cries echo through the streets. Men shout orders. Children wail. Guns go off. And somewhere amid it all, a small child screams.
***
It’s been three days since I watched those boys die. At night, when I lie awake, I sometimes wonder if any of them had siblings. Did they miss each other when they died? If so, will they ever meet again? What would they say to each other? Will they recognize each other by their voices?
For now, I’m staying in a cheap motel until I decide whether to return to the United States or stay here. So far, I haven’t decided anything, although I do know I won’t leave Europe without finding out why I was attacked. After I found the box, I knew I’d made a mistake.
I never thought it could turn into something like this. But it did. I need answers. When I finally figure out what happened, I’ll make sure no one else has to experience such horrible things.
I take a shower after dinner. The water feels good, washing away the dirt and sweat from the day. It doesn’t matter that I’m dirty; the shower is cleansing. Then, I climb under the covers and close my eyes, listening to the rain pour down outside. For a moment, everything seems peaceful. I hope the next time I look up, I’ll find myself safe once more.
The End