The best way to kill an animal about twenty times Keith's weight was poison, but it had to be swallowed. Their ingredients were limited and the animal was picky. Show began pondering on the how.
Moore became impatient with the passing time. Losing his shoe, having holes in his beard, broken nails, strong smell and suffering recurrent constipation had built up his current mood. The past three moons had been rather harsh and because of his incomprehension toward the shirt, he grew mad little by little.
His comportment hadn't gone unnoticed, his eyelids twitching, the compulsives scratches on the back of his head every time he had no answer to a question. The more they approached the city the more itchy he became.
They never talked directly about the shirt. Moore expected the kid to be credulous because of his age, and it was the case indeed. But there was a second brain ruling under the boy's face.
Camping a few meters away from the road, they lit a modest bonfire and Keith glared at the buffalo.
'What do you mean, killing it?'
Show pointed out Moore's signs and said.
'We are not just slowing down the pace of our trip, we need to prove the man he needs us.'
After a light dinner, they went to sleep. Laying against Buffy, his eyes half closed, Moore wasn't near falling asleep. On the contrary, he was about to cross a limit, he was cogitating.
'What if the kid had magic?'
He killed Jutile to deprive her from what he couldn't have, love. Couldn't he kill to acquire as well?
'No, no! That is too much, a kid furthermore! Who couldn't steal from a kid! Why would David wear it all the time, I don't have a chance to go unnoticed, I must confront, I must go frankly on the matter.'
Under the moonlight. Moore stood. One step after the other he pondered.
'Do I just threaten him? Should I harm him?' His shadow grew little by little and prevented the fire's light to reach the boy.
He unsheathed a pocket knife, as sharp as a baldy polished pebble and neared Keith's arm cicatrices.
'If the gods wounded him, they must've gave him the shirt to redeem themselves back.'
The blade ran through the sleeping boy's skin, going up until its point touched Keith's throat. Moore spoke loudly.
"David?"
'Plan B, boy! The merchant has gone mad earlier than expected.'
Mister Show had found no rest for half a year by now. His ghostly state allowed him to stay both awake and dormant at the same time. He had an omniscience over the kid's surroundings allowing him to connect both the world, and the Explanation where he had been discussing with Keith until this very last second.
The knife in Moore's hands became so heavy he couldn't bulge it much. Because of his own shadow, he couldn't see clearly the black hand holding it firmly. The moment he tried to push, his arm was grabbed by four clawed hands. The grab strengthened and the pressure momentum changed and intensified until a loud 'crack' was heard.
Moore's scream woke up half of the forest. It was hushed with a fifth hand.
He couldn't connect any dot, it must be a dream! He thought.
While he saw David rubbing his eyes, slowly waking up, he followed the hand's origin. Emaciated, longs arms were disabling him to escape the strong grip. Panicked, he tried to free himself and ended up with twenty holes penetrating his skin.
'The black matter came out of the shirt! This damned cloth is the devil's work! That's why he's not afraid of dead people.'
Something else came out of the shirt, a low voice with echoing growls.
"What kind of merchant can't take a deal seriously? Man, you agreed to take us to the city... What are we going to do with you, oh I wonder..."
Just like mist passing through a tree, the monster came out of the shirt. It was four times bigger than the buffalo, even though it had no horns, it looked more dangerous.
Sweating profusely, Moore managed to mutter.
"W-What is...?"
When Show's eyes appeared, red like a sunset, emerging from the towering darkness, they lighted up the place more than the campfire did with its still burning embers. The mood changed in the blink of an eye, just like the colour around them.
Terror and pain had filled the man's body long ago and it had put too much of a strain on his bladder. A fissure appeared and opened to give full view of sharp teeth raw. That was the sole thing the size of the man, the monster's mouth.
He was so paralysed he couldn't scream for help. Next to it, there was this little kid, not even moved by the scene. The monster continued talking.
"Now we must agree on a new deal. You carry the cart, you don't die, blink once if you agree."
Moore's throat and eyes were as dry as the desert. The simplest task he had been asked in his whole life became the hardest he wanted to achieve.
He noticed he was completely petrified, his internal thoughts were messy.
'By the gods, just blink, wink but close your damned eyes! I don't want to die!'
His eyes became to roll back because of the intense pain and he managed to close them after what seemed to last a day.
By the time he recalled.
'Where is Buffy?'
He looked next to the cart at place where his animal pillow slept. Yet Buffy hadn't moved an inch. How could she not wake up and run away with his earlier scream? Then he saw it. The four-centimeter gap between its head and body.
"What?"
It was the wrong question, he should've asked when instead. The moment he unsheathed his knife, Show beheaded it. No wonder the buffalo hadn't moved an inch.
"You can have the body. We keep the head for later."
What use could Moore have of this?
'Meat? It wants meat of course! He wants me to butcher the thing and...'
A small figure passed under his. A little bit taller than a meter, Keith. The boy jumped on the fresh meat. The acids in his stomach had disintegrated it continuously since his last 'proper meal' while Show kept regenerating it. It caused multiple strains on the boy's nervous system and brain. Its main malfunction being hallucinations. His mood wasn't high at all until he saw his promised food.
All he could dream about was now within reach.
He had partially listened to Show, he just began eating the fresh corpse, forgetting his need to breathe and flooding his lungs with mostly blood.
Everything was thicker, bigger. The skin was robust, the fur was thick, the bones were as sturdy as metal, but. Nothing stopped Keith's jaw. Nothing.
He was ferocious, unstoppable.
When he took breath, the ecstasy he was in made him laugh wholeheartedly. Yet the meal wasn't finished and he began doing both task at the same time. The matter obstructing his throat distorted his laughter, echoing in the night.
Behind, nearby, Moore was shocked silly, he realised there wasn't one but two monsters from the beginning. His frozen face and his stinky pant had long stained the atmosphere but he couldn't move an inch, his body wasn't responsive.
Hours passed as seconds. When the sun rose, there wasn't much left. The monstrous shadow had vanished and Moore forgot he was accompanying the ... the 'thing' that ate Buffy.
He could now see the eternal depth of his eyes. Nothing but black. He had no idea where the kid was looking. Nor if he could see at all. He was just scared to be the next meal.
Keith's still slender body was incomprehensible.
'Where did all of it go?'
But Moore's stone imitation was interrupted by the boy's voice.
"I couldn't leave some for you, I can't stop myself when I eat."
But Moore quickly answered.
"I-I don't mind!"
Keith mounted on the carriage and threw Moore's packed bed, then most of his clothes. He only kept tools and food around. Show asked the kid to say a few words before their departure.
"You can put them back on, but first be sure they are worth their weight."
The poor man gulped down his saliva. He still couldn't believe his animal was gone, yet to the kid's red and brown tinted clothes he was motivated. He put the wooden handlebars on his shoulders and held with his remaining right arm. Then he pushed the ground hard with his shoes and the cart advanced.
'Pulling the plow for more than a moon? Better than being dead.' And so was his thoughts for the rest of their travel.
He had yet to feel the fatigue from the nights staying awake or the hunger from his missing breakfast. But he wasn't yet affected by it, his survival instincts were kicking in. They were both eager to find some water pond and have a bathe.
'I feel great.' Thought Keith. His hair was stuck with the red glue and his clothes became firm.
The light coat covering his skin gradually became black and he could somehow brush most of it away. While Moore pulled with all his might, Keith breathed lightly, feeling the breeze in his back. He gave up his village. And he could go forward without restraint thanks to Show's plan.