Excerpt from a book I'm working on (part 3)

in #fiction6 years ago (edited)

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George rushed to know what had happened to Harris

When George got back to the clearing, he found Harris on the floor, clutching his ears and not moving.

"Harris!" George called but Harris gave no response. He moved close to him and bent down to touch him, just then, Harris latched out at him and made to grab him, George, out of shear instincts dodged and Harris staggered forward.

He saw Harris' back and decided that something was wrong. The boy's leg now looked sturdy and his eyes had flashed a brilliant black. George wondered what he could do.

Harris turned around again and faced George. His visage was like one who'd been dipped in hot oil. His eyes were black, his pupils greatly reduced. His mouth creased at an unbelievable angle and saliva dropped from them like he was an imbecile.

Those fingers
They looked like tendrils and had an unmistaken look like those of birds. George wished this was all a dream. Harris approached him, a vengeful smile plastered on his dripping lips.

"Harris, please I don't want to hurt you. Stay back!"

If this was Harris, he clearly didn't know his name any longer as he kept coming. George prepared himself. As Harris neared, George sensed movement around him. Someone was watching. This wasn't good. Why would the person not come to his aid? Maybe he was waiting to make sure that he was clearly in trouble before coming so he would have all the bragging rights.

George would show him he needed no help. If Harris was weak before, he would deal with him no matter what what had possessed him.

"Sustania!" George aimed the choking spell at Harris. He stopped coming forward, looking like he'd been affected by the spell. He however straightened up in few second much to George's amazement. He was getting scared. He threw another spell, this time a curse that stopped the flow of blood, but Harris, like it was a pinch of his arm only bent for a moment. He was very close now. George backed away and wanted to scream for help. He found his voice was gone and could only produce a croak.

"Help!' Please help. He backtracked and made to turn and run away when he his back hit a tree and found he couldn't break free. Small tendrils, similar to those now on Harris hand bind him to the tree awaiting Harris' attack. George felt husband heartbeat tripled its beat and silently prayed this wouldn't be the end.

Bids of sweat soaked his back as Harris finally got to him and stopped. He opened his mouth and George perceived what smelled like ginger.

"Any last words? "

The voice was nothing like Harris. His had been babyish, a child-like pitch. This however, was harsh and deep, like someone who had swallowed a block of ice.

George contemplated begging him to but knew that would amount to nothing. He instead decided to play for time, giving him space to think of a solution.

"But, what have I done?"

The reply came from an inexpensive source. It came from behind him. "Your kind is the reason why there's been commotion around the tree population, you come in to take what's ours and never stop to consider the consequences. Today, you pay for the wrongs of your fathers."

With that, Harris touched George’s forehead and he began to twitch, his brain immediate exploded as he began to see the scenes from other kings minds that had passed before him. Then, as quickly as it had began, it stopped. It was a voice he hadn't expected but was glad to hear nonetheless. Mrs. Ivy rushed on to carry him away as Cordelia chanter on with her father.