Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don't (Chapter 16) (Patreon)

Suddenly, I woke up, covered in cold sweat.

I was still disoriented, wriggling in my moth-eaten blankets, my eyes rolling in their sockets as the nightmare slowly faded. I felt a wave of relief, realizing I wasn’t buried, there was no graveyard or monster.

For a moment, I just laid there, breathing slowly as the adrenaline receded.

When I’d calmed down, I sat up, feeling a sudden thirst. Twisting around, I reached for my pack, fumbling for my waterskin.

I gulped down a few mouthfuls, feeling the refreshing, cool liquid run down my throat.

However, a familiar voice suddenly spoke from behind, startling me into splashing water on my face.

“Huh, you’re awake, kid?”

I looked over my shoulder, seeing two dark figures standing there, one tall and the other of medium height. My mouth opened, almost shouting.

“Don’t scream, you brat. It’s me.”

The latter kneeled, removing their hood to expose the lines of a familiar face, barely visible in the darkness

Recognizing Willem, my eyebrows drew together in confusion. What was going on? I wondered if I was still dreaming.

The mage leaned forward, patting my shoulder.

“…you said you wanted an exciting life, right? Well, since you’re awake, you might as well come with us, see something interesting.”

There was something ominous in his tone, and not knowing where this was going, I shook my head minutely.

“Uh, no… I never said that.”

I couldn’t help feeling the mage was playing fast and loose with my words, wanting to drag me into something troublesome.

However, Willem didn’t let me protest.

“Come on, don’t be shy. Besides…”

Throwing his arm around my shoulder, he drew me close, speaking next to my ear.

“…I saw you staring at her last time. Why not take this opportunity, get a nice eye-full?”

My eyes flicked from Willem’s shadowed face to the tall, dark figure standing a few yards away. Guessing her to be the mysterious, silver-haired girl, I felt my face heating up.

“You’re lying, I never stared at her.”

The mage chuckled, grabbing my upper-arm and pulling me to my feet.

“Alright, enough nonsense. There isn’t much time, so we better get going.”

Dragging me behind him, he went to the woman’s side.

I didn’t know what was going on, but I felt like it was going to be dangerous. However, I couldn’t cleanly refuse—as the saying went, opportunity and risk often went hand-in-hand.

It was so dark, I couldn’t even see the woman’s face, not knowing whether she’d even looked at me or if I should greet her. I decided I might as well—being polite was usually a good idea.

“Hello.”

Probably realizing I was talking to her, the girl turned her hooded face toward me—at least, I guessed as much, seeing her vague movements in the darkness.

Then, to my surprise, she actually spoke.

“Hi.”

Her voice was… really, really nice. It wasn’t as high-pitched as I expected, more of an alto, but it suited her, given she was so tall.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to do, having half-expected to be ignored. Fortunately, Willem stepped in, saving me from awkwardness.

“Now that everyone’s exchanged greetings, let’s be on our way.”

He took my shoulder, pushing me into the depths of the forest. The strange girl followed behind.

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I feel like I’m repeating myself, but it was incredibly dark.

I honestly couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. How these two knew the way, I simply had no idea. I assumed it was magic—a guess that had merit, because we also weren’t making any sound, despite me fumbling and bumping around like a blind, old man.

After wandering around for what felt like hours, Willem suddenly squeezed my shoulder, and I felt his breath against my face.

“Be careful from now on. Don’t make a sound, walk slowly and just listen.”

I nodded, feeling tension build in my chest.

The longer this dragged on, the more my imagination went crazy. What the hell were we doing? Were we hunting bandits? Monsters? A warlock or necromancer, shacked up in some kind of forest grotto?

While my mind went in circles like a hamster in its wheel, I heard subdued sounds.

At first, I thought I was imagining it, spooked by the midnight breeze rustling foliage. However, as we drew closer, the snapping of twigs and leaves crunching became unmistakable.

Something was out there—several somethings, by the sound of it.

I glanced at Willem, hoping to get some answers, but the mage completely ignored me.

Suddenly, he pulled on my shoulder, pressing me against his side and drawing us both behind a wide tree-trunk.

My eyes were wide in the darkness, wondering if we’d been noticed. However, Willem patted my shoulder reassuringly, bringing a finger to his lips and requesting my continued silence.

For a few moments, we just stood there as our enemies drew closer. At this point, I no longer saw the mystery girl—when she’d disappeared or what she was doing, I had no idea.

Suddenly, I heard voices—whispers so faint I couldn’t begin to distinguish words. Goosebumps broke out across my skin, chills running down my spine as I flattened myself against the tree.

I saw Willem pulling out something from under his cloak—it was round-ish, made from a dull material with bits of gleaming metal. He raised it up to his chest before going still.

After a few seconds, I imagined hearing, or maybe just feeling a faint buzz. It was incredibly uncomfortable, like having a small bug trapped in my ear-canal.

Suddenly, it stopped.

Willem raised his head sharply, looking into the distance—not toward our enemies, but in the caravan’s direction. Somehow, he seemed surprised.

After a few moments, I felt him relax, tension seeping out of his posture.

Perhaps we’d briefly been surrounded, but weren’t noticed? I could only guess.

Willem patted my head before whispering something. His voice was so quiet, I barely heard him.

“You’re interested in magic, right? Watch closely—I’ll show you some real magic.”

He flashed his teeth at me, the smile carrying a discernible fierceness, even in the dark.

Not waiting for a reply, he stuck his hand in his waistcoat before withdrawing it. Even in the dim light, I could see his skin covered by something silvery and metallic.

He draped his hand, his fingers separated and pointed downwards like someone shaking off water. Then, there was a brief flash of dark light—almost like those weird neons you’d find in a nightclub, or maybe a tanning salon.

I didn’t have to feign my surprise when the liquid metal covering his hand suddenly moved, extending from the tips of his fingers before drawing into long, silver threads. Like metal threads, they writhed and wriggled, descending onto the ground and disappearing among the foliage.

Before I could blink, they were all gone.

I stared into Willem’s cowl, naked shock visible on my face. What kind of magic was this? Sure, my memory was fuzzy, but I was 99% certain there was no such spell in WoW.

Not caring about my confusion, the mage chuckled quietly.

“Now, we wait.”

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It could’ve been five or ten minutes—I wasn’t sure.

Eventually, Willem started tapping a finger against my shoulder, quietly counting down from ten.

“…four.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One...”

“…go!”

Suddenly, he pulled us out from behind the tree, still clutching that strange, round object. It flashed briefly, drawing both my and Willem’s gazes.

“Prepare yourself and don’t run off-…”

He started speaking, but before he could finish, more than a dozen different screams erupted inside the forest.

They quickly grew more panicked before turning completely maddened, mindless from agony. It was the kind of sound a human being was incapable of making consciously, only when exposed to something truly abominable.

The sound directly penetrated my hind-brain. Stress-chemicals saturated my blood, my nerves firing crazily as my fight-or-flight instincts kicked in.

I felt like I was losing control of my body, my muscles twitching violently while a vice-like force gripped my spine.

Willem said something, but I could barely hear him—It might’ve been something like ‘cover your ears’.

I wanted to escape that awful sound, like howls from the pits of hell, but I was frozen, my sweat-soaked body being dragged closer and closer to their source.

However, as quickly as they started, they died down, soon becoming guttural, gurgling groans—breathless, like people choking on their own blood.

Willem snapped his fingers, conjuring a ball of orange-yellow light. Immediately, I spotted a handful of crimson-stained, spasming bodies among the foliage.

In front of my wide, terrified eyes, I saw a bunch of rough-looking men, clutching all sorts of knives, clubs, short-spears and bows. They littered the ground, still in the process of dying,

I saw a few rolling their eyes in their sockets, their prone forms twitching in an effort to react to our presence. However, they were already dead—they just hadn’t realized it.

Willem grunted.

“Just a bunch of vagabonds? The witch must be desperate.”

However, I didn’t register his words—I was too busy holding back my urge to vomit, watching as thin, silver threads emerged.

They were bloodied and covered in slime and mucus, crawling out from the dying men’s ears, eyes and nostrils.

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