With his mind wandering in an intense blur he pushed away the mattress from the window. The sun was still high and it penetrated his over-dilated pupils, causing a sudden headache.
Everything seemed as a dream. As if nothing happened. Splinters had damaged his gums at multiple places but the pain it spread was overtaken by his head's.
While blinking fast he could see a floating silvery string for a brief instant. He passed two fingers over his eyelids to rub them. He blinked a few times before looking again around him.
"An eyelash, probably. Let's go look for mother."
Most of his brain cells were broken cogs. He wished to not think any harder than he needed to walk straight. The memory he had flashed endlessly in his mind. Yet he didn't even shiver, he accepted it because he felt better than ever back then.
He walked past the crop his mother owned and noticed the field's overgrown weeds. He sighed and began pulling the extra.
'She didn't touch it for the past week. What was she doing?'
On the ground, he saw the shadow of a familiar wide head surging next to him. He said.
"You found any rats today?"
With a laugh, the man answered.
"Still not! I'll end up believing this was all a rumour. Alas, sometimes work is in vain. Just like the never ending growth of those weeds. Say, could you tell me where's your mother? She has business she must attend soon."
Keith saw Picco patting his belly, he smirked to the idea he gave off.
"Well, just turn around."
With a hint of hope, the short man turned around, hoping to be greeted as good as taller woman can. He could see what he was expecting, but the shape was too hollow to his taste. A third of meter away stood still, Raima. Her hands on her hips.
"Does your size hamper your sight? I came from the flat side of the landscape."
She asked, smiling. Picco stared at his toes, to accentuate his deception.
"Yes, to be honest. I have a message for you! You are to be at Leton's hut before dusk."
Raima nodded and crouched next to her son, pulling weeds.
"Get us the wheelbarrow."
Picco went away. Even though their meeting was brief, he noticed she had dirt under her nails. Her crops being visibly devoid of daily activity, his suspicions rose once more.
---
After a day of work, his mother was exhausted. She carried the wheelbarrow most of the time and they piled it over their roof. Dried weeds make good fire starter.
However, Keith was still in shape, almost ready for a round two. While his mother was gone after dinner, he had significant difficulties to fall asleep.
Feeling the usual coldness lurking under his shirt, he decided to question his friend.
"Say, you can pass through walls, but can you pass through people?"
A long arm exited his right sleeve, just under his own, giving him goosebumps. It grabbed the back of his hand. Keith was as much attentive as possible. His vision became more and more focused on the hand, melting around his own.
He felt the coldness intensify to nearly freeze him. His fingertips were pierced by the monster's claws who closed the child's fist like a puppeteer, plunging the claws at the centre of Keith's palm.
Keith loudly gasped loudly and the shadow let go of the hand.
"No more, no more!"
He saw the wound on his palm, yet no hole on his nails nor his fingers. He was able to move freely again and the heat was spreading throughout.
"I get it, you're special. But the pain was unnecessary."
* No way he is bad at hunting. *
"Then If you don't want to answer to why you came, tell me who are you?"
"Show."
Of course, that wasn't what he expected. This answer was upsetting.
"But, before?"
A guttural sound came out of the monster's mouth. But it had absolutely no head or tail to Keith.
"Alright, of course.... What is it?"
Mister Show repeated, but to no avail. Then he changed the word.
"Eat."
Keith snapped out of his wonder around the mysterious word, he answered.
"I want the cat. Let's go outside."
Mister Show's full body engulfed a part of the room, waiting for Keith to lead the way. Both exited the house and saw the quiet village scarcely moonlighted. Keith's stomach growled.
"You lead the way, I don't know how to hunt anything but crickets. I've never tried something bigger, let alone in the dark!"
Mister Show pointed the woods with two arms.
"No, we don't go here. I don't like this place. Not yet, I just can't."
With cracking sounds, the shadow neared Keith and said painfully.
"Cat."
Then the lowest arm grabbed something on the floor, something so thin Keith did not notice before. A fine silver strand weakly reflected by the moon's glow. Keith blinked a few time before attempting to hold it.
The strand partially dissipated. So the kid rubbed his eyes, and grabbed another part of it farther, and it vanished too. The direction the line appeared went toward the wood. And the kid understood.
"I'll eat something else tonight. I am not spending another night in those woods."
'So I haven't just lost my taste to have it replaced by the weird texture thing? My smell is gone too? Let's try... this?'
Keith tried the simplest thing he thought about.
"Show, did you smell that?"
He whispered, but the shadow did not even move, standing as still as an statue. Keith gave up about his second favourite sense.
'He is not as funny as Domi.'
"Me neither. This line is the cat's?"
The creature reacted and nodded as usual. Cracklings and its head zone going from top to bottom in a single brut move.
"Alright. Were did you find the egg? The one a moon's quarter earlier."
Keith asked, shaping a circle with his fingers. Mister Show turned around and pointed the nearest tree around the house.
"This one? Oh! How could I not see this before."
An evident protuberance around its trunk where thin twigs popped out became obvious. But the tree was tall. Keith came close by and managed to climb it little by little. After a few minutes, he looked down.
When he was about 10 times his own height, he wasn't even scared. A little more after he could see the inside of the nest. there were three chicks agitated by the trunk's vibrations, and their parents.
"Partridges! And quite a lot of them. Sorry little mom and dad. Here, give me some time to get down. I need two hands."
Keith took one chick in his hand and handed it to Mister Show behind him. By the time he was down, his stomach growled once more. The bird wasn't bigger than an adult's fist.
He took back the bird, strangled by the shadow's grip and bit its head off.
The beak was as soft as the skull. The small amount fat from its brain made him shiver. The eyes were tiny but still noticeable even though they weren't developed, they explorer under his jaw's movements. Keith ate its legs and gulped down the rest of the body instinctively.
The young feathers were soft thorns dancing between his teeth.
His hunger pushed him to wolf it down quickly. Its flavour lasted a few seconds before he looked back at the top of the tree, hesitating.
He noticed a new silver lining hanging. A new scent. He pointed it out.
"Just to be sure, this line, that's the bird's? Is it because I ate one? That's how you hunt?"
"All."
Keith nodded.
"Let's leave the remaining ones alive, I want to keep some for later, and experiment on them. I don't doubt cat and bird taste different. But last meal drove me to this foggy mindset, I was totally out of myself back then, I can't remember everything clearly."
A new voice interrupted their late conversation. A man surged from behind the house.
"Who's there! Show yourself! I heard talking."
The man had an imposing stature, long clothes covering his legs and a bent bow in front of him. He could see a child's silhouette. He was by himself on the middle of the pathway. Mister Show hid at his usual place.
"By the gods, why aren't you sleeping?Who were you talking to just now?"
Keith turned around twice.
"Myself."
"Kid, my job is to look for any intruder, or beast, you better not fool around with me. Children don't grow up when they don't get enough rest. You are...?"
"I'm Keith, I live here."
He designated his house, a few meters away. Yet he could see the night guard frowning.
"You are that witch's runt? Heh! You better stay home at night, or next time you'll pin you to your house."
The kid answered with a flat tone.
"Don't call my mother that."
"Or what?"
The man sneered. His grip shaking because of the unstopped tension.