Dust is on an athletics track. As usual he is running.
He runs without seeing the end of it.
The trail is red like freshly spilled blood. With each of his strides there is a wet noise. His breathing is heavy so heavy that it hit his eardrums like some kind of whistle.
The sky merges with the surroundings thanks to the abnormally opaque mist. Concealing from his eyes what the landscape is at his right or at his left.
Dust is running. He runs as fast as he can. But he moves as slowly as a dying man. Something is chasing him to devour him.
He knows .
He knows that he has to speed up if he doesn't want to die. But he is unable to turn his head to see if the thing is behind him. it is like his neck is in a collar unabling him to turn his head and like a draft horse he is forced to look straight ahead.
- **** Stay.
Somewhere there is a voice resounding. Impossible to know where it comes from. It's a little girl's voice that calls Dust using a first name that he can't hear.
But it's him she calls of that he's sure:
- ***** Stay.
The child's voice grows louder. His foot sinks with a thunderous sound into the red ground. Under the impact the ruddy material bubbles like magma around his calf. The boiling liquid produces a suction that sucks half of his leg. His other leg under the force resists on the track which remains firm. Both hands on the floor Dust tries to get up. He must flee. He must go.
NOW.
-**** Stay!
The voice becomes more persistent. All along the track, in the mist, black silhouettes appear. All turned towards him in the greatest silence. The crackling red liquid grips his waist.
- STAY! PLEASE!
The little girl screams sometimes she seems furious and then sometimes she seems to beg.
-**** Where are you going? Do not leave me!
Dust is forced to look straight ahead. He can only glimpse at the corner of his eye the silhouettes that seem to be approaching the white line tracing the contours of the athletics track.
The little girl is going crazy.
Her voice borders on high peaks like a hysteric. Dust struggles with all his might in the pool of blood trying to get up, to run away.
The red splashes him, soils him.
-***** YOU WILL stay.
The beginning of the sentence sounds distant but it ends as if the child is leaning over his shoulder.
Eyes wide open, he can only observe, half engulfed in blood, that a mouth to his right, just at eye level, distorted by a grin lets white vapor escape between its rows of sharp teeths. The black silhouettes do not give him time to react.
They leapt like panthers diving into the red liquid to join him. Dozens of shadowy hands hold him in place as his mouth opens wider and wider. Dust still can't turn his head. The joyful giggle of the little girl comes from the huge mouth elongated like an alligator.
She's the beast.
-Dust.
The clear and much deeper voice than the one heard previously brings him back to the real world. The boy opens his eyes in one breath and comes face to face with Suspicious' knife-sculpted face. it seems that it is impossible for him to sleep properly. Nightmares pursue him both in his sleep and in his awakening. Since he is still in that cursed swamp.
The red-haired man adds nothing more. When he is sure that Dust is awake enough he lies down on the somewhat wet rock to sleep in turn. One hand resting on his abdomen, the other under his bag which serves as a cushion. A fairly relaxed position given the circumstances.
Dust drags his carcass out of the hole that serves as their hiding place. Leaving on the floor the old piece of fabric that is used as a blanket. he sits down in the wet earth to take over. The sky is always gray he notes. They found refuge in a hole under a large rock overgrown with moss. There is just enough room for two. The boy looks around. Now that he is no longer alone and therefore more reassured, he feels hunger tickling him. His gaze skims the ground and puddles in the hope of finding a frog or three to grill. But nothing. Vaguely he wonders if there are leeches here because the swamps are not lacking this kind of animals normally.
The following question extends the previous one quite naturally. Are leeches edible?
In any case, Dust hasn't had one clinging to his skin yet. At the stage where he is in terms of hunger, he does not really know if it is a good or bad thing.
Now that he thinks about it, how long has it been since the meal at the castle? They walked for so long in a group and also stayed in the huts for a while... If we add to that the debacle with the spiders, the time
It took Dust and Suspicious to find a hiding place and then the fact that he slept... The boy turns to glance in the direction of the hole. The red-haired man's lamp is unexpectedly still on. Which seems to contradict the hypothesis that many hours have passed in addition to the still gray but clear sky.
He is not sure that this kind of questioning is useful to him so for the moment he decides to put aside this reflection. Trying to find a logic in everything that happens does not seem very healthy to him.
Dust feels somewhat uncomfortable actually. The nightmare he had has shaken him. The girl's voice still rings in his ears.
He withdraws his gaze from the relaxed form of his companion to observe the twisting branches of the trees that surround the place. They sway slowly, almost caressed by the wind.
The rain has stopped.
The boy takes a sip of the water collected from the old bowl found by Suspicious. The man, it must be said, thinks of everything and even collects water. This will prevent them from drinking the murky water around.
Here, noises are rare. Some rustlings, the occasional crow, and then nothing else.