The dull throbbing that pounded away inside Wyatt’s head was threatening to turn his skull into nothing but a pile of delusional mush.
Everything felt heavy; his heart, his limbs, his brain. They all felt detached and useless, like there were cement blocks attached to every able part of him. His aching bones pleaded to be cracked and used, awoken from the deep sleep that the rest of his body was facing. However, he wasn’t able to clearly make out the thought. Everything was fuzzy and incoherent. Everything that his mind was trying to tell him sounded like jarble from another language. Even though he knew from the dirty sensation on his right cheek that he was lying horizontally, he still felt like he was about to throw up.
Truthfully, he couldn’t make out any thought at all. All his brain could register was darkness, and the blackness that were the inside of his eyelids.
Swirls inside of his head promised gruesome outcomes if he dared do anything drastic. It was as if his body was being taken hostage by his brain, offering to stay put in exchange for the ability to move himself.
It had taken a moment before he had finally had enough, and his head could finally function again. The second it did, Wyatt let out a cacophony of lung wrenching coughs that tore through his throat like razor blades. He still didn’t have the energy to bring a hand to his mouth politely. The more his face moved, the more it ended up dirtying itself as it dug itself further into the terrain underneath. By now, his cheek had surely been painted a color much darker than his skin.
He wasn’t sure how much longer had passed before his coughing fit had went away. His throat was left dry and scratched. How long had it been since he had something to drink? He felt like it had been an eternity, and then some.
Wyatt just barely cracked open his eyes. They were crusted and gross, like the result of a perpetual nap. His vision was blurry and unfocused, persuading him to let out a mental sigh before ultimately closing them again.
Ugh.
His head felt like it had been run over by a freight train. Never, before, had he felt this way.
At least, he could register his movements. He had enough of his strength, now, after waiting a while. He brought up his right hand, and rested it on his forehead. He could feel the dirt and grime on his fingertips, but he didn’t care. He’d kill for some aspirin. He could only compare this feeling to waking up at the wee hours of the morning, and just wanting to go back to sleep. Except the urge was a thousand times worse.
Each time one of his body parts moved, it stung. Was he bleeding? He sure felt like he was. He kept his eyes closed, and continued to try and calm his mind-splitting headache. He didn’t even bother to sit up yet. He just didn’t have it in him.
It all hurt, stung with the intensity of a hundred waterfalls. He could feel his breathing was wrong, his chest pressing up against the hard soil underneath him. Even parting his mouth didn’t help very much.
He didn’t know how long he sat there. It could have been minutes, or hours. In his eyes, he felt like he hadn’t moved from that one spot in years. It was like that spot on the ground was his domain, and it always had been. As incorrect as he was, that still didn’t deter him from trying to get up after a while.
He kept his eyes closed, trying to make the headache go away mentally. He placed his hands on the ground flatly, and pushed up. Tucking in his knees and letting out a pained grunt, he finally made it to some kind of position that mimicked one that would beg for forgiveness, on all fours. By the time he stopped moving, he wished he hadn’t. His body was bombarded with aching muscles and weakened bones that throbbed and begged for relief. In fact, he had almost fell back to the ground.
“Auughh…”
He could feel his longer black hair resting on his cheeks, being pulled down to the ground. It felt dirty as well, like he had taken a bath in a mudslide. His clothes were stained with marks from the earth. The knees of his khaki pants were covered in dark blotches of black and brown, and his chestnut colored t-shirt was now the color of bats.
Wyatt opened his eyes. The first thing they focused on was the soft dirt below him, and his arms that kept him propped in the position like he was. He could see the small particles of soil, beautifully untouched and fresh. His first immediate thought was that he passed out in some kind of garden. However, he dismissed that idea near milliseconds after.
He tried to form words, just to make sure that he could. “Wha… I…”
He thought the words he was trying to say: What happened?
He let another distressed grunt escape his chapped lips. He pushed off with his arms, until he was finally sitting on his knees. At first, he kept his head low. It took him energy that he didn’t even have just to do simple things, like use own body. After a minute, he pulled his head upwards, only to have his face ruthlessly scorched at the sight of the sun. He growled, and forcefully thrusted his head back down, stars and swirls filling his vision. His eyes were on fire, like someone had traded his corneas for jalapeno peppers.
He bared his teeth, the pain of it all making his body shiver with torment. He brought a quivering hand up to his face, using it like a makeshift visor, and peered out towards his surroundings.
He was in a field. Long, wistful curtains of grass emerged from the earth around him, dancing in the limelight of the sun. The field went on for as long as the eye could see. Nothing but a sea of green before him. He squinted his eyes, and could barely make out some sort of rugged mountain miles upon miles away. To his right and left, were tall trees that rose higher than any skyscraper that he’d ever seen. They had gigantic viridescent leaves that only piqued his curiosity a little bit more. I’m… near some kind of forest? Or mountain, maybe? Perhaps his eyes were just playing tricks on him.
The skies above his were clear, void of any blemish or cloud. The only thing above him was the sun that continued to pour waves upon waves of light down onto his unprotected face. He could feel the head radiate from his features.
His eyes were beginning to adjust. He removed his hand from his face, keeping his mouth parted as he gazed upon the land with confusion. The air that filled his lungs was insanely pure, and it tickled his lungs whenever he managed to inhale.
He sat and stared. It was the only thing he could bring himself to do. He took deep breathes, and relished the fact that his headache was slowly begin to dissipate. Wyatt was confused and almost delirious. So many questions were running through his head. Where, Who, Why, How, What? Each and every one of the five interconnecting and jabbing at his brain like an arrowhead set on fire.
What was the last thing he could remember? For the love of God, what was it?
Ah, yes! He mentally patted himself on the back when the memory finally came floating back to him. The last thing that he remembered was that he was… somewhere. It was strange. He could remember a mere snapshot from the memory, but he could not recall it being played out. It was like someone had hit pause on that scene in his brain. He could remember sitting somewhere at a table, drinking some coffee and talking to someone. Of course, he couldn’t remember who.
Even though it was the last thing Wyatt could remember, it still didn’t answer any of his questions. In fact, it only added to them.
With a tired groan, he tried to muster up his strength and get to his feet. Unfortunately, the idea didn’t last very long. The moment he tried to balance without the help of the ground or his arms, he tumbled forward—his legs completely giving up on him.
He collapsed back into the dirt, skinning his palms on the earth. Wyatt dove his head back into the soil, and whimpered. He balled up his fists, before letting his body relax. He almost had it. Just… need a minute, he thought. I’ll be ready to go in just a minute.
He felt like he was being acupunctured, like he was a voodoo doll covered with pins. His entire body tingled, and he could feel himself being poked and prodded. If Wyatt had ever suffered from some kind of electric shock, he assumed that what he was feeling now would be similar.
He had to get up. He had to figure out where he was. Lying there wasn’t going to fix anything, rendered immobile or not.
Wyatt narrowed his eyes, flaring them with determination. With another small push up—and a bit of effort—he was back on his knees again, like before.
He was gaining his strength back, slowly but surely. He couldn’t help but wonder why he was so drained in the first place. He set his hands in his lap, and looked up towards the sky, swishing a bit of his hair out of his face. He needed a haircut. It was starting to get a bit long, and too wavy for his liking.
He was in the midst of breathing out a sigh when he heard something.
A sound.
Wyatt stopped in his tracks, his heart thumping just a little harder inside of his chest. He jerked his head in a primal effort to help him hear better. His green eyes were wide. Was it some kind of animal? He surely hoped not. Though, the chances that someone simply passing through this conviently was slim.
He was lost, either way, and could use some help. Wyatt was unaware of just where in the world he was.
He had mixed feelings about the sound, but he had a clear idea of just where it was coming from. He threw his glances over in the direction, and watched expectantly. It crossed his mind to call out. After all, if it was an animal, he could just scare it away. He opened his mouth, and inhaled.
And burst into another fit of throat-ripping coughs.
He brought his hand to his chest, and coughed until he was certain that there was nothing left. A few tears slid down his cheeks, brought forth from the sheer velocity of his hopeless hacking. Each cough put him into further into a deeper state of depression in itself.
Whatever it was out there, Wyatt was sure that it had heard him.
And it was coming closer. He suddenly felt like a giant target.
The sounds resonating from the forest only increased in volume, only confirming his fears. “Who…” He couldn’t raise his voice. He was forced to talk at the same volume as one would in a standard classroom. He needed something to drink, immediately. He squinted, and looked towards the foliage not-so-far away from him.
The bushes on the outskirts of the forest began to rustle a little bit, approximately twenty feet away. He heard a voice, a woman’s.
“I’m getting another reading from over here,” said the female voice. She was talking fairly loud. Or, maybe that’s just another side effect from whatever Wyatt was experiencing. Nonetheless, it made his slight nervousness wane, sending his heartbeat back to its original frequency.
Another voice, this one belonging to what Wyatt assumed was an older man. “About time,” he said. “Been running around all damn day looking for this one.”
This only added to the amount of question’s Wyatt had. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to think about it.
From beyond the brush, two creatures emerged. It took almost a half second for them to find and lay eyes upon him. If Wyatt could have, he would’ve let out a startled shriek. Instead, he jumped, and fell onto his back with his heartbeat taking a turn for the worse. The mere sight of what beheld him threatened to make him even weaker than what he already was.
They were some kind of horse-like creature. They stared at him with gigantic eyes, like the sight of Wyatt was something that made their day. Their large, beady orbs were almost the size of his entire head. Like normal horses, they bore long manes and tails that almost touched the floor. Hell, one of them flicked its every moment of so, like the way Wyatt observed when he was at the zoo. They had heavy hooves, and large heads that only panicked him further. While they were smaller than most horses he’d ever seen, that didn’t stop him from scampering back a few feet in fright.
They were odd colors. One of them was shorter than the other. The shorter one was a bright pink, and the other was a dull orange, like a foggy sunrise.
The pink one bore a large horn. It was planted right in the middle of its forehead, and was roughly a foot in length. It was pointed.
Did the voices Wyatt heard come from them? T-There’s no way. Horses cannot talk. That’d just be silly.
“There you are,” said the taller one, lowly. He wasn’t sure if he had heard him correctly. The near-constant ringing in his ears made sure of that. Wyatt presumed from the voice that the taller of the two was the male, the one that sounded like an older man.
The pink abomination shot him a nasty glare, and prodded his side roughly with one of her appendages, as if she was telling him to shut up. The other obliged, and cleared his throat.
Wyatt was tongue tied, unable to piece together any sort of sentence properly. The desperate questions in his head were so jumbled at this point that there was no way he’d be able to get a proper phrase out. Surely, his eyes were playing tricks on him. He scurried back a few inches, about ready to make a break for it. What… what are you? He felt like he was staring into the eyes of a monster.
The smaller one, the female, must have taken notice of his nervousness. She held a foreleg in the air, defensively. Is she…?
“Whoa, whoa! Don’t run! We’re harmless!” Her voice was like that of honey, dripping sweetness from every single letter that she dropped from her mouth. Her voice reminded Wyatt of his mother. She had some kind of knapsack on her back. She slid it off, and slowly began to open it up. Reaching inside, Wyatt clenched his eyelids shut.
The girl monster pulled out a small, circular canteen, and held it out to him with a kine smile. “Thirsty, hmm?”
Wyatt’s eyes must have lit up, because the male horse snickered.
“Who…” Wyatt started to cough again, and brought his forearm up to his mouth. The two creatures merely watched, as if they were amused. At one point, he was fairly certain that the male horse whispered something to the female. Though, she ignored him. At least, that’s what Wyatt speculated.
“Shhh,” cooed the female. She took a small step forward. Wyatt forced himself to stop coughing, burning his throat, and averted his attention back to the two horse-monsters in front of him.
Never, ever had he seen or heard of these strange creatures before. Although they resembled horses, their eyes and heads—not to include the female’s horn—clouded his thoughts. The fact that they talked only frightened him further. What are you? he found himself thinking.
They continued to take a few steps closer, sending more adrenaline pounding through the young man’s body. “We’re not going to hurt you,” said the female.
Where was he? What were these creatures? What if they were dangerous?
What if they were dangerous…?
“S-Stay away,” Wyatt croaked. He held up a open palm in their direction, like some kind of crossing guard. The creatures immediately halted. The male turned to the female, whispering away once again.
They were only fifteen feet away. Wyatt’s eyes were wide with terror, staring at the abominations with some kind of twisted mix of intrigue and fear. He scooted back a few feet, hoping that his body wouldn’t betray him in any way. While Wyatt was a trackstar back in his high-school days, that didn’t mean squat when he couldn’t stand up in the first place.
“Sorry, sorry!” said the female. The canteen was still outstretched, and she shook it in her grasp as if to tempt him with it. Unfortunately, it was working. “You look awful thirsty, is all.”
Wyatt tried to swallow, but he just couldn’t. He needed that water more than anything. He felt like he had just gargled sand, and pondered if his last meal was the entire Gobi Desert. However, he wasn’t an idiot. He had no idea what those creatures were capable of. What if the water was poisoned, or they attacked him the moment he got close?
“We’re not going to hurt you. Please,” said the male. His eyes kept flicking behind Wyatt. For some reason, he didn’t pay it much attention.
“We were wandering past. We live around here. You seem lost, and we only want to help,” said the female serenely, her voice brimming with sincerity. Wyatt’s heart dropped a little bit, but he refused to let down his guard. He didn’t trust this at all. He had a good deceit detector. Why would creatures like this be so kind to him? Shouldn’t they be afraid just as much as he was? Why weren’t these monsters making any sense?
Wyatt was growing very skeptical. “G-go away. Liars! M-monsters!” Wyatt rasped again, scooting back a ways. Once again, they were roughly twenty feet apart again. The female took it upon herself to match Wyatt’s pace, walking at such a speed so he couldn’t necessarily get away.
“Please, let us help you! We’re not monsters!”
“We’re not out to inflict harm,” the male chimed. He followed closely behind the female. It was obvious that the female was in charge. This only made Wyatt fear her the most. Her yellow eyes freaked him out. They focused in on him like sunny, hypnotic globes that wanted to wrap him in some kind of warm—false—embrace. Wyatt faltered, and slipped. He slammed his shoulder on the dirt, sending a small ripple of pain through his upper torso.
While Wyatt was fairly muscular, he was very susceptible to pain. He let out a small hiss of displeasure, before readjusting himself back into his position. He must have looked like some kind of strange crab. “Please… just l-leave me alone!”
These monsters were up to something. He didn’t trust them. He never believed that there were monsters under his bed as a child, and he was certain that he shouldn’t fall prey to this.
The male flicked his eyes again, occasionally looking from Wyatt, to something behind him. He finally caught on. His eyes went wide as he realized something critical.
Wyatt turned his gaze, and looked behind him.
There was another creature, a large white one, not even five feet away. His eyes were large, and dilated, like he had been caught committing a crime. Had Wyatt had his voice, he would have cried out at the top of his lungs. The sight of the behemoth made him jump, and almost lose his balance entirely. Obviously, it was just as stunned as he was, standing completely frozen.
He’s… trying to sneak up on me?!
“Get ‘im!” shouted the orange male, his voice ringing in Wyatt’s ears like he had just sounded off a gong. The white thing snapped out of it. It charged the young man, while the female dove for her knapsack. The ivory male let loose some kind of stunning war cry, and quickly began to close the short distance between them.
Wyatt barely had time to react. He mustered his strength and rolled to his right, just as the large monster jumped for him.
It was sent sprawling in the grass, colliding into the other male and sending the two into an almost comedic tumble. Limbs and curses were thrown everywhere, giving Wyatt just the prompting he needed to get out of there.
“Get off me, you lug!” shouted the orange horse, who was attempting to push and shove the mammoth off of him. The female ditched her bag, and ran to help her friends get off the ground.
Wyatt turned onto his stomach, and planted his shoes into the dirt.
I gotta get outta here!
It took a lot more strength than he would have thought, but he just barely got to his feet. Unfortunately, he almost immediately fell back down onto his knees, sending him into another fit of coughs and tingling sensories. He compelled himself to ignore it, and tried to get up once more. He wobbled, before making another attempt to make a break for it.
The two ponies had finished untangling themselves, and were just getting to their feet. The white stallion was now the color of the dirt below him, and the orange one bore a small cut to his chin. “Hey! Get back here!” he shouted. His eyes were enraged and fiery.
The adrenaline that pumped through Wyatt’s bones was music to his ears. He shakily got to his feet, and didn’t even try to balance himself before he tried to bolt. Placing one foot in front of the other, he wheezed and panted tiredly in a desperate attempt to get away from the monsters that pursued him.
After four steps, he fell.
This time, he slammed his head into the dirt, sending another round of dull throbbing through his head. He groaned from his new position on the ground, and closed his eyes.
He was going to die. These monsters were going to kill him right then and there. He was never so sure of anything else in his life.
His world was spinning like a dreidel, threatening to send his mind into an unwelcomed insanity that he just didn’t need. No more. Please, no more suffering. I can’t move. If only he could. He would be a mile away by now, probably somewhere safe and far away.
When he opened his eyes seconds later, the three monsters were staring down at him. The males were bearing some kind of grin that made Wyatt sick to his stomach. It was like one a hunter had after he just caught his trophy buck. The female was grabbing something out of her bag. Somehow, she still hadn’t managed to retrieve whatever it was she intending to get. She had an annoyed expression on her face, and she was muttering something underneath her breath.
It was some kind of sack.
The female smiled, kindly. The same one that she had given Wyatt only a few minutes prior to his attack.
“I lied,” she chuckled.
Before Wyatt could even register her words, she thrust the sack over his head, and then all he saw was darkness.