Hawk must have gone mad to think that he could catch a train racing through the Dead Lands, but now he was facing the consequences of his success. Tucked deep in one of the empty carts on the train he looked up at the irritated sky. It was pink and dotted with red spores. The spores streaked past the lip of the cart, creating a safe air pocket, were Hawk cherished every easy breath.

In the sky, large driftmyces with their tissue paper wings rippled in the wind. The mindless creatures spiked tendrils swayed like the stingers on a jellyfish. Hawk kept his Silkins close. They were stress weaving again. There was no use trying to stop them as they wrapped him into a home-made hazmat suit.

It continued to rain harder, soon the drops were heavy enough to fall through the air pocket. Hawk backed against the wall as pinkish water poured overhead. When he rose in fright, the noxious wind rolled back into his face. He ducked back down and began hacking like he was choking. The Silkins pulled a thin mask over his face, but it was too late. Tears ran from his burning eyes.

A wave of dizziness overcame Hawk and he leaned into the corner of the metal cart. Everything was tilting about and caving in on him, but he knew better than to trust his senses. He remained still, tearing off his mask and yanking out his handkerchief, he rubbed out his eyes and blew his nose. Deep breaths returned cleaner air and a sense of steadiness to his mind.

At his feet, some of the small Silkins were being washed away towards the drains on the sides of the cart. He rushed to scoop them up, but they slipped from his hands. To buy more time, he slid his boots into the gaps on the cart. He had a spare handkerchief. Slipping it under the floating spiders, he recovered them all.

“Forgive me that was too close,” he said to dazed spiders.

To his horror they continued to weave sporadically, not listening to any orders. It took all the remaining Silkin’s to bind the others who ran rampant over Hawk. Now, sheltering them from the rain, Hawk’s silk covered arms protected everyone.

This wind whistled over the cart.

Suddenly, he heard a clear voice.

“…….”

Hawk looked around the cart. He heard his name. The name that no one should know of.

“…….”

It whispered to him again. He was terrified, but it couldn’t be real. It must be the spores.

A swarm of driftmyces crested the lip of the cart. Their red ribbon tendrils waved like flames against the tainted sun. Their wings crossed over making a giant white sheet. From the pale portal a being with bright yellow eyes and lengthy black hair emerged. He walked on air, coming down towards Hawk. The driftmyces fell off from each other leaving the angelic man behind.

Hawk felt gravity increase ten-fold as he slammed into the corner of the cart. He could barely keep his eyes open, but in one other glimpse, he no longer saw a man. The man’s draping dark hair became spiked limbs, with an amorphous mass at its center.

The dark-flowing mass crashed down onto the train, and flowed over the edges of the cart. The spiked limbs gripped the edges of the cart, bent at awkward angles. The monster before hawk looked something like a dead bug and a bleeding tar pit. His mind may be mischievous, but he was sure that there were at least a hundred faces on the monster's back staring at him.

“Child, your soul may be a lost one, but it will bring us ever closer to fulfillment,” the monster rasped.

Eyes shut, gasping for the air that was escaping his lungs, Hawk could hear his warding crystals breaking. He thought in a pinch of drawing on the power that he had sealed away in his purple amulet, but he decided that he would rather die.

“You came to the right elf. I’ll give you all the good looks and talent you lack,” He said, wincing.

The monster’s biggest smile was as wide as the cart, and full of crooked fangs. All it’s bright yellow eyes were squinted in pure joy. “We sense the darkness in your heart. No need to hide it behind such arrogance. Do not fear us. When we are united, we will be free from it all.”

A great shadowed hand that looked like it belonged to a Chlorophane picked up Hawk. Gingerly, it opened his faux wings. While it investigated the illusion, the Silkins, unaffected by the monster's pressure, sprung into battle.

“You can fly with us. There will be no more pain; you will not die,” the monster said, as it formed dripping dragon's wings behind Hawk's back.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"My wings," Hawk said, coughing. "They look better than yours."

The monster's faces smiled in amusement.

It hung him over its gaping mouth.

And then he dropped.

The last thing Hawk saw before slipping behind its jaws was his Silkins, unaffected by the monster’s pressure, attacking with reckless abandon. They drove spikes into the creatures eyes and bit at its hand. Others rushed to pry open the monster’s jaws with their thread.

Hawk fell deeper and endlessly into the shadows.

It was hard to comprehend what had taken place. Hawk wondered if his brief exposure to the spores had already killed him. This all must be a fever dream, somewhere between life and death.

A dozen hands of light reached out from the abyss. Hawk made a clumsy attempt to get away, but he continued to fall. The warm hands took hold of him and began to peal something glowing away from his skin. Was that his soul? He thrashed as they grappled him tighter, but they would not stop tearing at him.

As the hands tried to rip his spirit free, he gained insight into their trapped souls. He saw villages of people that once lived happy, simple lives. There were some souls that thought of themselves as cunning to join the monster. Fathers had told their children that it was safe. Soldier’s dull presences’ raised little protest, having submitted after fighting for days in the dark. And even more than the rest, were thousands of animals that could not comprehend the snare they had fallen into. All different faces to the same trap.

Hawk knew that there was one spirit oppressing the rest using force and illusions. He had made similar traps back in Watzelland. He was one of the best, and that made him frighteningly familiar with the monster. They both knew how to crush wills and make their victims think it was their own choice.

Perhaps he would be right at home with this monster.

“Hawk, can you turn on the light?”

“Spinner!” Hawk exclaimed, horrified. The little guy was sleeping in his pocket on the train.

“Are we there yet? Gosh, won’t you turn on the lights already,” Spinner said, riding a line up to Hawk’s shoulder.

“No, no, no. You’re not supposed to be here. This is my nightmare,” Hawk said, pulling bits of himself back from the hands.

Spinner’s yawn was a little squeak. He took turns stretching each of his limbs

and then his tiny eyes opened wide. “Your soul is leaking!”

“You don’t say?” Hawk stressed, clawing back at the hands.

“We gotta do something about that, sir!”

Hawk nodded. He could already feel himself going numb.

Before Spinner revealed himself, Hawk was barely putting up a fight. Now, he was thinking of all his Silkins that would not spare their lives to save him. Something had to be done to escape. It didn’t matter what he thought about his long gone self; he was Hawk now and his Silkins needed him.

“Spinner, I need you to make a huge web and tie all the hands back to me,” Hawk asserted.

“I don’t know what you are planning, but I know this enchantment will cost too much,” Spinner replied, uncertain, yet willing.

The little spider swung himself around the ghastly limbs, connecting them all with his thread. Hawk could feel the thread tighten around the ghost’s limbs as if they were his own. At that point, his mind seemed to be split between his body and the collective. Within the chaos of lost souls, the presence of an ancient being was shielding it’s thoughts. Hawk reached for it. The glowing ball of condensed souls burned his hands, but just as he hoped, the lines of thread began to shine.

“Ok, Spinner, I’m ready!”

Spinner nodded and spun up a pattern between his limbs. The spiraling pattern linked to the rest of the web, which was now glowing like a flame. When Spinner released the key pattern, Hawk cast his water magic. Simultaneously, the enchantment began to unravel, burning away all the hands it touched, and Hawk enveloped himself in water. Hawk could feel the spirits recoiling from the flames. They tracked right over his thin veil, evaporating it, but he remain unharmed.

Without any crystals left to support his spell casting, a sharp pain radiated across his body. Hawk’s vision became cloudy. He could barely see the monster’s core shrinking back from the flames.

“Get out, you pests. Get out!” The monster roared.

Gravity shifted around Hawk and he rapidly ascended through the darkness. Spinner threw his line up to catch Hawk’s shoulder. Though he could not see the little bug, Hawk knew that Spinner was there and smiled.

The two pesky mages were launched out of the monster’s jaws and sent flying. The Silkin’s scattered from the collapsing monster and spun a large net. They moved the net across the roof of the passenger car. Back, right, forward, back… Thunk!

“Yaaaaaahahahaa!” Spinner cheered, springing up from Hawk’s back.

A stretch of trees ran along the sides of the train. Black smoke was being blown away from the ashes of the monster. The Dead Lands were now miles behind the train.

To the left of a rush-job-net, Hawk lay face-down sprawled over the roof of the car. The Silkins gathered around the fallen mage. They were already folding up his crumpled wings in a more dignified manner.

Spinner looked around at his clan. A few still seemed shaken from the Dread Land spores, but they would be alright. He wasn’t so sure about Hawk though. The elders lifted his palm, checking for a pulse. Their expressions of relief told him all he needed to know.

Spinner covertly slid over to the elders and whispered, “so now what? How are we going to get him into town? No one can see us.”

One of the elders revealed the puppet stings that they had already started to weave around Hawk’s hand.

“I hope he will forgive us for this,” the elder lamented.