Work Text:
Tree roots writhed on the ground, digging into the dirt and seemingly trying to upheave wherever Hunter would step, just to cause him to trip. A few times it worked and Hunter went sprawling, his palms scraping against rocks that stuck out from the dirt. A gasp pulled itself from his throat as he heaved forward once more, skidding to a stop and sitting there for a few seconds to slow his breathing.
His heart was pounding in his chest and it took him a bit to get himself back under control as he slowly and carefully pushed back up to his feet. Dirt coated the leather of his gloves, staining his skin and clothes.
The wind whistled around him and his ears twitched in the direction that it was coming from, listening to see if he would hear anything else.
It was near silent as he once again began to stumble through whatever this labyrinth was, darkness shrouding his peripheral and everything to the side of him. His boots crunched loudly over the decaying leaves as the scent of death surrounded him, making his stomach churn with growing nausea. Dying plants wilted underneath his feet and cobwebs stretched from spindly branches. It was as if this entire part of the Isles was on its last stretch of life.
Hunter brought his hand up to his head, thumping the heel of his palm against his forehead a few times as he tried, and struggled, to remember where he was. Or even what he had been doing before this. How did he get here? As far as he knew, he was back in the owl house with Luz and Eda. And now he was here.
There was an entire blank section in his memory where he couldn’t remember anything that happened in that time which probably included how he got here. Why was he here in the first place?
It was on the tip of his tongue, nagging at the back of his mind but refusing to come to the surface. He hit his head once more, a growl pulling itself from his throat. A shrill screech from some kind of bird startled Hunter out of his thoughts and caused him to jump. His breath hitched and he had to take a second to steel himself.
Hunter shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself as he glanced at his surroundings with a bit more depth. Somehow, Hunter had found himself on what appeared to be a dirt road—or maybe this was just a path? It wasn’t wide enough to be a road, which meant that he was on a path, which didn’t help the fact that he couldn’t remember how he got here.
Trees stretched high above his head from the right and left of him, twisting and hissing at him as the wind blew through their decaying branches. No leaves sprouted from its limbs, and the ones that were still hanging on looked one small breeze away from snapping.
Twigs crunched from underneath his feet as Hunter surged forward, a pit of unease settling in the bottom of his stomach. Where was he? How did he get here? Why was he here?
Nothing in the Boiling Isles looked like this place. It was too dark even though the moon should be providing a little light to the surroundings. The path in front of Hunter was illuminated by some unearthly glow just enough so that he was able to see where he was going, but besides that, everything else around him was just… darkness.
Behind the row of trees surrounding him, there only seemed to be a layer of void that wisped and curled like an angry fog as it spilled out onto the road in front of his feet. Hunter swallowed thickly, sliding his tongue over his lips as he felt for his staff in case something was waiting in that darkness.
But there was nothing there. No staff, no weapons. Not even his cloak to hide behind or use as a distraction if he was truly that desperate. The only thing he had on him was the dirty tunic and pants that he had been wearing yesterday. He wasn’t even in uniform.
Hunter tried looking for Flapjack, even if he didn’t need the defense, some sort of company would be nice. And maybe even Flapjack would remember how they got here and how to get back home. But the palisman was absent from any of the usual hiding places on Hunter’s person.
He was alone.
That realization had never startled him before, but suddenly it was enough to nearly throw Hunter off balance as he let out a slow breath. The gap between his teeth whistled and he looked around with wide eyes.
It felt as if a thousand eyes were watching him from the darkness, skittering across his form with unrelenting judgement. Hunter swallowed thickly, twisting the fabric of his shirt around his fingers with a terrified gasp.
He continued moving forward, faster than before, doing his best to ignore the woods surrounding him. The faster he got out of here, the better.
The wind blew through the trees, whipping his hair in front of his face and causing Hunter to jump as he felt something against his skin. His chest heaved for a moment as he stared at the place that he had just come from. Darkness swallowed the path behind him, coating it in the same inky mist that surrounded him on both sides.
There was no going back that way then. Hunter scratched at the back of his leg where he had felt something before. He was shivering.
When the wind blew once more, it carried whispers from the distance, the sound filling Hunter’s ears. Incomprehensible speech just out of reach as the voices danced and hissed.
From the treeline, voices seemed to echo and mumble, writhing like the void that ensnared them. He couldn’t make any of it out as dialogue overlapped and stuttered like a broken record. Closer, closer, closer.
There was something just beyond the first layer of trees. Hunter could feel it watching him, he could hear its heavy—almost pained—breathing hidden just behind the darkness. As Hunter walked, the presence followed. Hunter began to run and yet whatever was behind the trees kept up with him.
A chortled laughter surrounded him, high pitched and breathy, surrounding him on all sides until the only thing he could hear was the laughter. Hunter froze, skidding to a stop and kicking up dirt from the motion. His chest heaved, in, out, in, out.
The smell of decay was starting to become overwhelming with the sudden lack of wind doing nothing to drive away the stench. Hunter reached his hands up, clasping his palms over his ears to try and block out the laughter. It echoed and hissed at him, mocking him for something he didn’t even know he was doing wrong.
It giggled and hissed and choked, laughing and laughing and laughing until Hunter’s ears were ringing and his head was pounding with a beginning headache. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palms so tightly against his skull that it was beginning to hurt, but nothing seemed to drive away the laughter.
More voices joined in, screaming and crying and laughing, all the same, surrounding him on all sides but not close enough that it would breach the small bubble of light that followed him. The voices skirted just along the edge, getting as close as possible without stepping where Hunter could see them.
The noise was dizzying, growing louder until he couldn’t even breathe from the sound. Hunter was trembling so hard that he felt like he was going to burst at the seams, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He just wanted the noise to stop. He wanted it to end, for there to be silence again.
He had been alone a few minutes prior but now there were too many people, too many voices all screaming and begging for something that Hunter was unable to understand. It was practically like it was a different language with the way that they overlapped.
His knees, which had been shaking with enough force to bowl him over, finally buckled under his own weight and Hunter dropped to the dirt path. He tugged at his hair, pressing his hands tight against his head and curling in on himself.
It was so loud. So loud. So loud. So loud.
The chortling seemed to spill through the decaying leaves like a tidal wave of noise. Laughter and screams shrieked as they surrounded him, and Hunter was unable to pry his eyes open for long enough to see what was going on.
“Please,” he squeaked, voice painfully hoarse from lack of use, tears rolled down his cheeks as he struggled to blink them away, “please stop.”
He couldn’t even hear his own voice through the pandemonium. But just as the terrified whimper left his throat, there was a breeze of cold wind against his skin and everything went silent.
Hunter’s ears rang, the sound bouncing around his head as he was finally able to push himself out of the curled-up position that he had fallen into. Tears streaked down his face, as he panted. Slowly, he lowered his hands from his ears, looking around with wide eyes and finding enough energy in him to wipe his eyes.
The forest around him was unchanged. The trees swayed with the casual wind that Hunter was unable to feel. Spindly branches spread threateningly around him, weaving together just above his head to block out any sky that he might have been able to see before. The path underneath his legs was dry and dusty, and the pale dirt clung to his skin and clothes the longer he sat here.
Cobwebs spilled from the tree branches, thick and stringy as they blanketed the area. Hunter sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as his heart rate began to slow.
The silence that now surrounded him weighed on his shoulders like wet cloth, soaking him to the bone and causing him to shiver. He could still feel that thing watching him from just behind the trees. He could feel the eyes crawling up his skin, pulling him apart in an attempt to see how he worked.
Hunter stayed there for way longer than he should, barely able to catch his breath as he sat pathetically on the ground. His hands rested limply in his lap, fingers occasionally twitching with a sudden muscle spasm. He simply breathed as slow as he could manage, eyes blown wide as he was almost stuck in a trance of shock.
His body tingled all over and he barely managed to swallow past the lump in his throat. He had no idea what had just happened, had that all been in his head? Had it just been the stress of the past week or so catching up to him? Or was there really something out there in the darkness stalking him.
Hunter felt like he would have sat there a lot longer, long enough for his body to go numb and the nothingness of the void around him to take hold of his body. A sudden chirp startled him out of the shocked stupor. Hunter trilled the sound back automatically, the whistle spilling from his lips with little effort. It took a second to process what he had just heard for the realization to kick in.
“Flapjack!” And then Hunter was scrambling to his feet, newfound energy thrumming through his veins. Hunter surged forward, eyes wide and scanning the area desperately for his bird friend.
He heard another trill of a few short notes and Hunter called Flapjack’s name again. Hunter fell into a full sprint, ignoring the trees around him that echoed his words with a hint of malice. He looked around, everything was so dark here, he was sure that Flapjack’s bright red plumage would stick out in this type of surroundings.
Flapjack was saying something in the distance but Hunter was unable to understand what he was trying to chirp. His mind was working too fast to try and translate the palisman’s words.
“Flapjack?” Hunter called again, cupping his hands around his mouth, ignoring how loud he was being. If there was something in these woods that didn’t already know where he was, Hunter was sure that it would be able to find him. His footsteps crunched against the dirt path, snapping sticks and digging into already dying weeds.
Fear clouded the edges of his vision as he struggled to keep his mind focused. He needed to find Flapjack and then the two of them would be able to figure out how to get out of here together. Hunter was sure that Flapjack would know how they had gotten here.
Another chirp, seemingly farther in the distance this time. The bubble of light that followed Hunter almost seemed to stutter and lag behind for a few seconds as Hunter continued to sprint forward. He pushed blindly into the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole, ignoring what might be just beyond the light he was shrouded in.
There was a moment when all the light that he had taken comfort in went out and Hunter was stranded in the mist-like void of the forest. He sucked in a sharp breath, forcing himself not to clam up or freeze. Faintly in the distance, Hunter could still hear Flapjack chirping and twittering. He could practically imagine the way the Palisman would flap his wings irritably and give a short trill.
The thought alone was enough to comfort him, just a little bit.
Hunter ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut and rushing forward. He ignored the burning in his lungs as he barely was able to catch his breath.
A root lurched up in front of him, or maybe it was just his own carelessness that caused him to trip, but something caught against his boot, and Hunter suddenly went sprawling. A startled gasp left his throat as he skidded to a stop, a throbbing pain radiating from his chin at the sudden impact. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, pushing himself to a sitting position.
The darkness had been pushed back to the edges of the forest once more, and a churning whisper that hissed on the outskirts of the trees surrounded him. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see glowing lights flicker in and out intermittently between branches.
Hunter panted and took stock of where he was.
A few feet in front of him, he saw a glimpse of red feathers fluttering forward.
“Flapjack!” Hunter called, managing to get himself back to his feet and brushing himself off. He stumbled after Flapjack, desperate to know why he was running from him all of the sudden.
“ Hunter ,” came a shrill whisper from somewhere in the forest. Hunter stopped, eyes widening as he suddenly understood a voice clear as anything through the overlapping whispers. Hunter nearly choked on his own breath, hearing another cry of his name to the other side.
Back and forth his name was echoed. The void mist writhed faster, tendrils snaking out between dying blades of grass, curling around the bases of the trees.
Hunter continued walking, forcing his feet to move with one foot in front of the other. He must have been walking for hours now in a straight line, it was crazy how he hadn't come across some sort of landmark. Only dense trees that surrounded him, curling high above his head to block out the light from the moon.
Just as he was about to shout Flapjack’s name again over the cries of “ Hunter .” in the forest, Hunter spotted his Palisman sitting in the middle of the path.
Flapjack chirped and hopped back and forth a few inches. He waited for Hunter to approach, allowing the boy to pick him up and settle him on his shoulder.
“Where have you been?” Hunter asked, a bit of tension draining from his shoulders. He wasn’t alone anymore, at least he had someone that he could talk to and ignore the creepiness of this area.
“Do you remember how we got here?” Hunter then asked when Flapjack remained silent. It was unusual for the palisman to not have at least something small to say. He was always chirping and twittering whenever there was a slight invitation for his input. Flapjack was noisy and vocal about everything, and yet, for some reason, he was quiet.
“It feels like I’ve been walking for ages,” Hunter laughed awkwardly, shutting his eyes for a few seconds as he rubbed the back of his neck.
A sudden crunch beneath his feet caused him to stop. Hunter looked down, a startled cry echoing through the trees as he stumbled backward a few paces.
A golden guard mask crumbled underneath his boot. Cracks and chips littered the gold-colored surface as the entire thing seemed to shatter before his eyes. The surface splintered apart and Hunter just watched with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape.
Pieces littered the ground around him, chips of gold masks blanketing the floor like a carpet of leaves on a fall day. Broken masks were scattered about carelessly as the black mist from before spread throughout their ranks.
Hunter froze, eyes widening as if he had just been stabbed.
Blood oozed from the eyeholes of a nearby mask as Hunter turned to look around, the crimson liquid dripping onto the dirt pathway without so much as a sound to accompany it.
He felt like he was going to be sick.
There were countless of them. Countless remains of the many golden guards that had served before Hunter, their entire legacy reduced to a cracked mask in the middle of a forest. Hunter brought a hand up to his mouth, swallowing back a gag as his legs refused to move.
He needed to get out, he needed to leave. But his limbs refused to work. His legs were shaking so badly he felt they were going to give out at any moment, but the fear of being on the ground with these masks was the only thing keeping him upright.
A chirp next to his ear brought Hunter out of the panic that he was falling into, he turned to look at Flapjack with wide eyes.
His palisman tilted his head to the side, the one good eye staring up at Hunter with a curious look. He chirped again, almost sounding strained like something was hurting him.
“Flapjack…” Hunter’s voice didn’t even sound like his own, he sounded breathless and high-pitched, not at all like his usual tone of voice. Flapjack opened his beak but no chirp came out. And as if someone had snapped their fingers, in an instant, Flapjack’s small body seemed to crumble.
Hunter was unable to stop the way he screamed, flinching back like he had been slapped. His heel caught on one of the masks beneath his feet and Hunter crashed to the ground with a loud thud. His wrist caught in the broken eyehole of one of the broken visages and Hunter froze.
“ What a shame .”
Hunter’s voice failed him when he wanted to scream, silent tears rolling down his face and pooling just underneath his chin. He couldn’t breathe, there was dust sticking to his skin, blood, and dirt rubbing off on his clothes. His hand was still stuck in the mask and he frantically shook it to try and get it off.
“ Out of all the grimwalkers, you looked the most like him .”
From the darkness that had been surrounding him this entire time, stepped the form of his uncle, a tired, disappointed look spreading across his features. Hunter’s eyes were wide, mouth hanging open slightly in a silent gasp for air.
Belos approached him silently, like a predator stalking his prey. It wasn’t anger on his face, nothing like the hostile looks that Hunter was used to receiving. It was nothing like when Belos got mad or when he lashed out at Hunter.
The small smile and the calculated flat expression were almost worse than what Hunter was used to.
The thing that had been stalking Hunter all this time, that had been whispering his name in the darkness. It hadn’t really been a monster or some sort of manifestation of his stress.
Belos had been there watching him.
Hunter’s breath hitched and it suddenly felt like his lungs were going to explode. Belos got closer, the cloak he wore billowing around his feet as the mist curled around the decaying masks around them.
He couldn’t even move, he couldn’t back up or try to run away. Hunter was completely frozen. It was as if the roots from the trees had curled up and wrapped around him and prevented him from escaping.
He was going to die. Belos was going to kill him.
He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die.
A pitiful sob tore itself out of his throat and Hunter squeezed his eyes shut, gasping for breath and unable to even lift his arms to protect himself. He didn’t want to die.
He could feel a gloved hand curl around his throat, tightening enough that not even the small wheezing breaths that he had been taking before could pass through.
And then Hunter woke up.