Leaving Home

A chorus of howls like a chorus of demons from hell and Dack knew he had to run. This was not the time to lie in wait. Dack got up from his seat and looked at his house. It had been with his family for years.

He had grown up in this house, he had done so many things in this house. However those beasts were coming close, Dack was not strong enough in his heart to fight any more creatures of the system.

It only took a couple of minutes for Dack to get everything he needed from house. Some food, one of the books that Dack felt like his dad would want him to have, a picture of him and his dad. The picture was of him and his dad on a day trip fishing, Dack was smiling, such a large smile, such an ideal life. One that was ruined by stupidity.

Dack stood in the doorway of the house and looked over everything. The world was out there, things that he probably couldn't imagine lay there waiting, and yet these fluorescent lights, this house would always be with him.

A knot had formed in his stomach, and he didn't even know if he wanted to leave, if he had to at all. The howls getting closer reminded him, he thought they sounded like they were making fun of him. Dack closed his eyes and turned around, he knew in his heart that he would not return to this house again.

For better or for worse.

Dack walked away from the house and never looked back. It was only a couple minutes in the walk, when he noticed the glowing eyes in the forest. They were big and bright and orange and definitely not human.

Dack couldn't make out their figure in the night. Yet he could hear their breath. Dack drew his sword and breathed in. They both stood still in the night. The wind howled and whistled. It blew against Dack, the wind came from the eyes. As if it had some sort of control of them.

As the eyes stared at him, they whirled and whirled, like whirpools in the dusk. As they looked at Dack, it felt like his mind was falling away. Utter terror.

He wanted to go but he knew he should hold his ground. The utter blackness of terror, of fear, could he ever beat this thing? The beast was stalking him within his own mind and Dack didn't know what to do.

The wind stormed and stormed around the beast. Dack could hear it whistling, and with a grunt of it's voice the wind was sent at Dack.

For about ten minutes the wind blew and blew against Dack, yet he stood his ground. He did not move for he knew that if he did move, something terrible would happen to him. The wind got stronger and stronger. Dack was pushed back and back, until he was almost on his a*s.

"Fine, you're acceptable. You humans are interesting. Like very interesting. Now go on and live your little life. Forget that you ever saw me." Like a deer caught in headlights, Dack could only stare at the voice. It was horrible and guttural, like the sounds of breaking glass over and over and over again. Worst of all, behind the voice Dack felt only pure unadulterated malice.

Yet as the voice faded, so too did the eyes, and so did the wind.

The walk after, felt muted and worrying. Each time the wind blew, Dack wondered if another unfortunate soul was in the eyes of that beast. He walked for hours, every once in a while Dack would look at his character sheet to notice his skills going up.

Only his stats had changed, not much time had passed since he got the system. Dack tried to feel if he was stronger or smarter, yet he just couldn't. Gravel crumbled beneath his feet as he walked, it was a walk he had done many times before however, it felt that much different now.

Only thirty more minutes passed before Dack saw the first signs of the town of Bucksport, Maine. Wooden houses held up only by the sheer force of will of the wood, a small country church adorned the skyline. Yet, nothing stirred in any of the houses, Dack couldn't see the signs of even a light turned on.

Dack approached one of the houses that was in the best condition. It had a new paint job and the field outside was tended to some degree. Dack walked to the front door, looked around for anyone else, and knocked.

Nobody responded. He tried to open the door itself. It flew right open, as if it had been waiting for Dack's action. The house wasn't empty, strewn about on the floor was an assortment of books and coffee cups.

Someone had stacked up hundreds of books into a pile in the living room of the house and laid a single coffee cup on it. The downstairs was uneventful, the books were old adventure books and cult classics.

The coffee in the coffee cups was lukewarm, but it had probably been made just that day. The man or women in the house probably drank it and read one of these books. As Dack poked through the stuff in the house, he heard scratching from upstairs.

He clutched his sword tight and walked to the stairs. Above them was utter pitch black darkness, the light switches of the house had fallen out of favor ages ago. Dack had bought a flashlight for these purposes. A stream of light came out of his flashlight and illuminated what was in front of him.

As Dack looked through the upstairs it was much the same. Scatterings of things yet nothing cohesive, nothing that felt like the place had been lived in at all. Yet, as Dack approached the master bedroom he heard the scratching once again.

He opened the door, his mind expected something there, something to attack him, something waiting. The room itself was a ordinary bedroom, a queen sized bed, floral accents. The only thing off about the room was the tiny white dog laying on the bed.