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“So, you’ve seen things like… Martin, before, right?”
Dalton mentally reminded himself to use the less frightening code name the group created for their adversary. Myra nodded her thanks as she climbed past the branch Dalton held aside.
“Not exactly. Large corporeal cryptids? Yes. But like Martin? Not so much.”
Dalton shouldered his way back into the lead. It wasn’t that Myra couldn’t forge their way through as well or better than him. It just felt like something he could contribute.
“What’s the difference?”
The team leader could see his gorgeous companion’s lips purse thoughtfully, even in this moonless forest night. They could create light, but that’d be risky. They wanted to see Martin before he saw them.
“The rage? I’ve seen cryptids that feed on humans, but with Martin… I don’t understand his destructive drive. It doesn’t feel like any amount of killing would satisfy him.”
“Scary,” Dalton whistled.
“I wouldn’t take umbrage if he returned to the deep wood and we don’t find him.”
“Heh, you say weird things.” Dalton laughed, then felt a twist in his stomach like something bad was in that last taco. “Hey, which way is the deep woods?”
“It’s—” Myra started to point one direction, then swept her finger around to the opposite. “That way.”
Right. On their left. Like it had been the entire time they had been sweeping the area for Martin.
On their right. No. Wait. Dalton put a hand to his head.
“Ugh, could that crummy cryptid be messing with our minds?”
A heavy snort overhead. Myra pointing behind him with her mouth moving silently. Dalton groaned.
“I hope HE doesn’t take umbrage at the crummy cryptid thing.”
FictionTrials 