Abandoned By Infinity

Mr. Edward felt his breath hitch along with an impatience to find out what secrets were held in the genetics of the beasts before him.

"If only I could get my hands on their blood," Mr. Edward thought excitedly.

"Ohh, Ϟ/ᒻ٧Ԑ𐑮 ጰᒻ⩃⩤ԐD Ϟᒻ/&/⍥ռϞ," one of the red-eyed men suddenly spoke, startling Mr. Edward out of his thoughts before adding. "ጥȞ/Ϟ ϞȞ⍥ņᒻDռ'ጥ ጥ⩃&Ԑ ᒻ⍥ռᏵ"

With that, he proceeded to step forward or try to step forward but was stopped by the green-eyed man.

"⩃ᒻᒻ⍥⩤ ⩯Ԑ," the green-eyed man spoke before supplanting the red-eyed man.

"Hoho, ᒻԐጥ ņϞ ϞԐԐ ⩤Ȟ⩃ጥ ጥȞԐ ȞԐᒻᒻ į/𐑮Ԑ ⩃DԐթጥ /Ϟ ጰ⩃թ⩃ѦᒻԐ ⍥į."

From their interactions, Mr. Edward was quick to discern that they were deciding who would face these monstrosities, a notion that confused him greatly.

"Why would one not run at the sight of these beasts?" Mr. Edward asked himself but could do nothing but watch in his current state, and so he did.

He watched as the green-eyed man stepped forward rather confidently.

The beasts were weary but, as if urged by the primal instinct that governed their decisions, they exhibited signs of impatience.

The leading beast let out a low growl, and the other two by its sides took two steps back before running away, disappearing into both corners of the street.

"They ran?" Mr. Edward thought in confusion, curious at what prompted such a decision from the beasts; could it be that they were confident in the strength of the one beast before them?

It was then that the beast moved, not toward them but toward a nearby building, climbing it so swiftly that Mr. Edward shivered at the thought of running from it.

Like a cacodaemon, it flung its malformed form off the small building, and towards them, its...

"Radius Ignis!" The green-eyed man suddenly yelled.

"Whoosh!"

A long stream of condensed greenish flames tore through the air—leaving behind the smell of burned meat as it pushed back the abomination.

The beast shrieked, its body steaming as it thrashed around the ground in pain, convulsing from the severity of its burns, but it was not dead yet.

Like a spring, it threw itself back towards the green-eyed man, reaching him in an instant, but he did not panic.

"Ignis bursta!" He changed once more, and at that moment—in only a split second, the ground beneath his feet exploded with a burst of green flames as though tampered with explosives.

The green-eyed man was launched into the air, his body twisting haphazardly, and then he muttered, his palms pointing down at the beast below.

"Radius Ignis!"

"Whoosh?"

His voice resonated with the void as a small pillar of concentrated flames left his palms scorching the beast once more, its form letting out a maddening screech.

He landed with a soft thud, not sparing one more glance at the scorched beast, which had obviously stopped moving.

Looking at the green-eyed man in light armor who stood aloft, arm raised with a dimming greenish glow around him, Mr. Edward was at a loss for words.

"Was that some kind of weapon?" Mr. Edward first thought with a gaping mouth but quickly shook his head, convinced by the eerie proof that stared right at him, a truth he was somewhat unwilling to admit.

The blast in question had steamed from the man's palms and feet, a power more condensed than any flame thrower could match.

Seeing such a display, one of the men spoke, his tone suggesting praise as he laughed, yet the green-eyed man, seemingly unfazed, just nodded.

But as they prepared to leave, Mr. Edward felt a gelid chill run down his spine, and he wasn't the only one.

This feeling prompted him to look around, his eyes catching a barrow sight, two beasts mid-leap, their gazes locked on the group of four.

It was the same two beasts who had retreated before, but now it was clear, they didn't retreat, they hid, using the intricate network of buildings as their cover to find the perfect angle, it was a perfect ambush one that they would not be able to avoid as they were simply unable to react in time.

Or so he thought.

"Bam!"

A thud rang out as Mr. Edward was thrown to the ground so swiftly that he rolled, the man who had once gripped him now holding with his two hands the maws of one of these outlandish beasts in what could only be described as an impossible display of strength.

But he was struggling; the other two men were also occupied with the second beast, and Mr. Edward, fearing for his life while at the same time grasping the opportunity ran into a nearby pathway between two buildings.

And so he ran, taking tenebrous twists and turns without thinking of anything else leaving only his instincts to guide him.

Like some eldritch omen, the fetid smell of blood left the taste of metal in his throat, his sweat amid the cold a testament to his laboring body and the growls, those maddening grounds resounding so vividly that Mr. Edward could feel the vibrations in his chest.

Once in a while Mr. Edward would stop, frantically banging against the doors of random abodes, but was left without answer.

There was no mercy, no compassion, only the cold calculus of survival.

It was then that Mr. Edward heard another growl not far behind him forcing him to take to his heels once more, but this time it was different.

Other growls had come and gone, but this one stayed constant, the nameless fiend to which it belonged lurking on the threshold, hot on his trail.

It was following him. This blasphemous entity of primordial dread was following him.

«Can you believe this? What should I do? Quit observing and think of something goddammit. Have you been mauled before?»

Looking around, Mr. Edward picked up the pace taking even more rapid turns until he—in an unfortunate twist of events found himself staring at a wall, a dead end.

It was much too tall for him to scale, and even if he could—he found himself much too exhausted to even stand properly.

Mr. Edward felt his heartbeat increase whilst his face paled, he had faced death before, but that was on his own terms.

He had never been mauled before.

The growls grew closer now, accompanied by a faint sniffing sound. Soft, deliberate footsteps padded against the ground before a shape emerged from the corner—slowly, hesitantly—poking its head from the corner like a child, its bulging eyes staring at him.

Mr. Edward pushed himself against the wall, breath shallow, fingers curling into the damp stone at his back. And then he noticed something that amplified his horror.

It was the beast, it was still focused on him and seemed to be nibbling on something.

At a closer glance of what it was chewing, if one could look past the ghastly mutilation of the flesh one would discover a robust leg dismembered from its host.

Mr. Edward swallowed, his mind racing, but strangely, even after a while, the beast… didn't move to attack him. It simply stared at him, and Mr. Edward, in his utter disbelief, could swear that the beast before him was showing signs of fear.

Its ears pinned back. Its fur bristled. Its entire body slumped inward, frozen in place, like an animal sensing an imminent predator. Its bulging blue eyes dilated as it gazed at him.

The beast, this grotesque, nightmarish thing, was afraid?

«Did you do this?»

Mr. Edward knew not the reason for such anomalous behavior and he sought to find out why

Thoughts whispered through his mind, unwelcome and absurd. Yet, there was no mistaking the raw terror in the creature's expression.

The beast, on the other hand, seemed unable to bear the pressure anymore, so it whispered.

And then—it ran. Bolted. Vanished into the shadows like a coward fleeing from a far greater horror.

Upon seeing this Mr. Edward exhaled, his heartbeat pounding against his ribs. The air felt thinner now, his mind still trying to grasp what had just transpired.

"But something isn't right," Mr. Edward muttered with a gasp, trying to catch his breath as he continued. "What had frightened the beast so much that it ran away?"

"Good question," a voice—soft as silk, rich as honey—dripped into his ear, the uncanny tone sending a shiver down his spine.

Mr. Edward turned backward, but there was only a wall behind him.

Another shiver licked up his spine

"Don't be so jumpy, little sheep," the voice spoke again from behind him or more accurately—into his ear, the whisper was impossibly close. A breath against his neck.

His pulse thundered as he turned again there was nothing but the alley's exit before him.

"Who's there?" he called out, his voice sharper than he intended. But there was no response.

His instincts screamed, prompting him to lunge toward the exit, but he was stopped by an invisible force.

His body seized, said invisible force slamming him back, his spine colliding with the cold, unyielding stone of the wall behind him.

"Bang!"

He could not move and neither could he speak, his throat locked tight, his heart beating erratically.

And then, like ink seeping from the very fabric of the world, they appeared from the wall.

Four arms, slender and impossibly soft, unfurled before his gaze; they were as black as void, as smooth as liquid shadow, and they reached for him, deliberately, teasingly.

The first slid along his jaw, tracing the curve of his throat.

The second dipped lower, curling against his chest, counting his ribs slowly, knowingly an unknown intent behind each movement.

The third and fourth slithered further down, fingers brushing his waist, skimming beneath the frayed edges of his shirt.

Mr. Edward's breath hitched, his body tensing as a wicked hum coiled in the air around him.

"You really are another one," the voice purred, its amusement curling through the space between them.

"Who ar—"

"Hush."

A finger, soft yet firm, pressed against his lips.

Mr. Edward stiffened, the whisper of touch both chilling and unnervingly intimate. His mind screamed at him to fight, but his body betrayed by instinct—remained locked under the weight of unseen chains.

"My, how I do hate irrelevant questions," the entity sighed, fingers dragging lazily along his skin as if savoring every inch. "Now… listen my love."

It said with a pause, a deliberate one.

"With what's in store for you, you will die." it murmured, lips, if it had them brushing the shell of his ear as it continued."Not in ten years. Not in five. Hmm, a few months, at most."

It said, the weight of those words sinking deep, colder than the night air.

"What does it matter to you if I'm dead? why are you here?" Mr. Edward asked calmly.

"To feed, of course," the being responded with a soft giggle, its grip on his body hardening as it said. "You see, once upon a time; there was once a powerful being that cast a spell on an entire continent, trapping little old me in the process; the spell involved a soul from another plane suffering unimaginable bad luck before finally dying in ten years."

Mr. Edward clenched his teeth. "You expect me to believe—"

He was stopped by a flick to his forehead. A sharp little tsk.

"Do not interrupt me, little sheep," it pointed, giving a short pause before continuing. "Now, where was I? Ah—yes. So these people are cursed with bad luck and often end up killing themselves, but that is where I come in; you see, I feed on life, but with the curse plaguing this entire land, I can't feed on anything here."

Mr. Edward's breath was ragged, mind spinning. "And what does that have to do with me?" He asked.

A dark, melodic chuckle rang out as the being replied. "Why… everything, little sheep."

It caressed along his jawline, slow, possessive, its musings vocal. "Because of that cursed being a delightful little hex taints everything here. I cannot touch the souls of this world. But you…"

The arms tightened.

"You, my dear, are not of this world. And that—" she said with a shiver of laughter, "—makes you utterly delectable."

As he listened to Mr. Edward felt his stomach twist his mouth dry as he asked calmly. "So, what? You're here to devour me?"

There was a pause and then the arms curled tighter. Its lips—phantom, but there—brushing against his cheek.

"Don't be so crude," the entity purred. "I don't consume in such… primitive ways."

It gave another pause followed by a teasing hum.

"I grant wishes—in exchange for lifespan, of course."

Mr. Edward raised a brow, surprised at the unexpected turn the conversation had taken.

"Wishes?" He asked again.

"Mm-hm," the being mused, fingers sliding against his collarbone as it intoned. "I cannot do anything permanent like extending your life or increasing your strength, nor can I directly kill nor free you. I cannot even create something that would harm another. And… I certainly cannot interact with anyone but you."

The arms slithered, their touch featherlight as it continued. "But oh, love… I can do so many other things. So? Shall we play?"

It asked with a smirk in its voice adding in an urgent tone. "It would be best for you to make your first wish now, your friends are looking for you."

At the sound of her voice, Mr. Edward's mind screamed at him to resist. To run. But the reality was—he had no choice. He could hear the sounds of their footsteps coming, his time was running out.

And so he took the plunge, his voice hoarse. "I want to understand the language spoken in this realm for three months."

"Why three months?" It asked in amusement.

"You said it yourself that you can't grant such wishes permanently-"

"But you'll die-"

"Ah ah ah, it's your turn not to interrupt me; I chose three months because I believe I will survive for more than a few months; besides, three months is enough for me to learn the language on my own," Mr. Edward said.

The entity sighed, a hint of ecstasy in its voice as it demanded. "Then I also want three months."

"Three months, huh," Mr. Edward muttered before saying. "Very well, so how do I pay?"

«Am I really paying with my life right now?»

A delighted, satisfied little chuckle rang out mixed with the sound of voices and footsteps, softly the being spoke. "I'll collect my payment later."

Just like that Mr. Edward felt the grip on him loosen and in the distance he heard voices intelligent audible voice that sounded alien yet he could understand it.

"The boy is this way we have his sent!"

It would appear that his captors were looking for him.