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By: Zuxian OngoingMystery/Thriller

Language: English

Chapters: 38 views: 4.0K

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He was hunted by some Centuars and Satyrs after he'd breached the orders of the underworld. Then they pursued him till he lost them to a forest. He was found by some of the creatures who he killed. He stayed in the forest for a while till a lady came to the forest. He was surprised to realize that other creatures existed and stole after her till he found a voluptuous village. He returned to his stead (the trunk of a tree) and would go to steal the babies of the inhabitants of the village. He kept on this and travelled to other parts of sewn villages whenever there was no baby to steal anymore. Nemesis caught up with him when it was time for him to be stolen. Ah! He who steal will be stolen.

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38 chapters
"Urghhh"     His heart was in his mouth. He wanted to allow the breath a space. He had been running and needed to rest. He wasn't sure if that was the best time for him to nurse that feeling.     The numbers of trees there were beyond expectations. He hadn't thought he was going to see anything close to those. The trees were scattered in spree across the forest and he couldn't awe their undaunted stance. His heart wasn't his anymore.     His hoofs were sticky and his chest heavy. There was a rhythmic jive which his reasoning had supplanted. His rage could not sway to it. He looked.     There was nothing in sight. The view was clear and dainty dusk was dragging by. He looked up. He saw mists in groups and felt like elevating to touch the recently growing-moody sky. He remembered. That was not the time for the thought.     He took f
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     "Eliat make pawn of you too."       He looked closely. They were two. He needed to be sure. He didn't know why they reduced. Was that some new level of prank? He couldn't be sure. He needed to affirm. He was done hiding behind the tree. He needed to face whatever time would toss at him. Whether or not he had done anything outta his bound back in Eliat, in the underworld, he didn't care. Twasnt some big things to be puked. He wouldn't be the first and neither would he be the last. He wouldn't make he seem as though he was the worst thing in the context of being. He dumped the thought, else he would be jilted by pain. He did what was considered grievous, but of course he would point tons of leaders and others who had done what was worst than his. He had read about some. He had met some in his guts. While he still plied the route of the abyss, he would make confetti of his curiosity. He was used to it. But t
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      "Oria blah blah..."        He looked. The day was just dawning. He was on a tree. At least, the branch of a tree. His eyes met with the rustic rays of the apt azure. He was conscious of what effect they would have on him. A part of him feared or did dread their ferociousness. From his part of the world, where he had came, there wasn't much of the ray there. They could simply savor the aroma. Like a figment of its projection. That was all they were opened to. That was all they could make of its pleasantries. But on the tree, twas quite different. His head was heaving a sigh. A salient sigh. He could maneuver those. He could handle those. He had been handling things greater than those. He felt a pang reaching for the tip of his consciousness. He needed time to figure out what to do. Of course twas not farfetched. Twas something he could easily come by. Shouldn't be a mill around his neck of course. He cons
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     "Huh?"      He drew closer to the spot but couldn't find anything. He firstly thought that his ears had jilted him by feeding him with the wrong spoon of ideas, but he wasn't sure whether or not he was the one jilting the ears. He looked from one end to the other. His hoofy legs which were bound to transformation had sundry sways on the earth. Leaves crunched under the humane leg as though twas a hoof. The claws reaching from the toes were few inches long. He wished they were longer than that. If they were, twould aid him in hunting, and of course that was of great consequence. His eyes were widened as he looked. He wasn't sure what he was seeing. His instinct probably was telling lies to him. If it was, there was pretty nothing he could do about it. He was merely and obviously a pawn. That was all he was. He wasn't more than that. He looked up at the sky again as though he was looking for what he had heard it
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.      "Uhhh?"        Those were the syllabic sanity he could sweep into a whole. He couldn't had done more than that. His eyes widened at what he saw. Many thoughts were fighting a stance. He probably might lose it. He kept his patience drooling as he allowed his instinct to savor whatever it was that taunted time was leasing. He couldn't afford reeling in gaunt guts. He couldn't afford making strays of wits. He couldn't allow pain to pore his rage. He wouldn't allow fear to mock his pride. Why would he. He had no idea what the creature was and what it wanted. How then would he be so dramatic and belatedly dismissive. He was damn sure that many a tales had been told to him about sundry creatures living on the upper land. They did have less of that in his own world. What they did have were monsters. Creatures with awkward shapes and forms. A creature with a thin body complemented by a super big head. Or one with a larg
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      "Why'd you do that, Moe?"        His thoughts were as though they were augured by a prophet. He let his rage sink into the abyss of his consciousness. He wanted to make apt meaning of what was happening at that moment. He couldn't be sure what he had heard or seen. His patience was being pored by curiosity and that should never be a mill around his neck. His wills were whooshing as his veil was unveiled. His marks trailed tracks on the consciousness of his being. He was just as heavy as the weightiest mountain ever grown. His pain would subside but he needed his rage to be soothed. He had no idea what pain he was referring to. He hadn't thought he was in any pain. He wasn't savoring any gaunt gores. Except from the claws of the annoying but comely creature he had met few hours ago. He tried concentrating and making meaning of quite the numbers of ambiguous things before him. He mated with rage and s
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      "Huh oorh"        He had no idea what to do with the Cougar beside him on the tree. But of course he knew what he would do with the one beneath him. He knew that the creature would never make it to the top of the tree. It would only rage and growl to make him cower and surrender. He did know the logic of those creatures. He didn't know that creatures in the figment of the universe were as sensible as that. He needed no hypotheses to test their stance and logic. He did know what they were up to. He did know the language which they understood easily. He knew how to make confetti of the semantic also. DEATH! That's their language. They would seek the death of a stranger or whoever they were accosting you the first time. He didn't know what trained knowledge was that. He had no idea who trained the knowledge. He couldn't be sure. He couldn't fathom. Probably if he did arrive at a crumbling
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      "Aria ma n kule"        He dropped the meal. Even the callous corpse. He was done eating. Hell knew he wasn't satisfied, but he wouldn't keep to such business at what his salient sight had lent him. He wasn't sure whether or not he was rich enough to repay or would be pawned by bruised bankruptcy. He wouldn't be pored by illicit or dimwitted thoughts. There were things he wouldn't savor at the moment. A part of him was grateful to the trunk which had made him stumble. If he hadn't, he probably might had stirred the creature before him and of course, a battle line might had been drawn. He wasn't actually afraid of battle, but he wasn't in for it. He didn't believe in having to fight everything. He believed in dialogue. But if dialogue is crippled, then wanky war would treat. He knew what that meant and the magnanimity of its being. His fate would whisper to him what was expected of him, he would simp
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      "Ai mele..."      He stood. That was the best thing to do. That was actually his third attempt before he could make sanity of how he was supposed to stand. He had tried in the first place and had fell facedown into the water over and over again. Happened that his claws would dig into the moist earth beneath the water which was incapable of holding his weight. But at last, he was able to make meaning of the insanity as he staggered on his feet. He wasn't exhausted, but he felt like he needed a rest. He wasn't used to resting. He was more of the jacky. More of an unrelenting jacky. Though he had no sane idea what that meant. He was simply savoring the atmosphere. Back in the underworld, he could go on working for several darkness-shifts without rustic rest. Exactly why his father treasured him and wouldn't trade him for naught. He would sit him beneath the black dwarf like trees locked up into a boulevard
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     "Ku ri a..."      He wanted to drop it. He couldn't be sure what to arrive at that moment. His instinct did affirm that what he was holding was never a snake. He knew twas never that long and thin creature with a curvy walk style. He knew what its grasp would feel like in his coarse palm. He tried sorting his thoughts. He knew not what to do. Or probably he did know what to do but was simply shilly-shalling. He couldn't put a speck to the dust. His thoughts had been chopped. He tried what he felt reasonable to himself. He dropped what he had grabbed. He couldn't help it. He wanted to run outta the water but he would simply be a coward. And what was there even to run away from. Wasn't he supposed to be on his feet? Wasn't he supposed to fight for his reels? Even if his father had told him to run and run from the impending doom he could never see coming, was it anyway close to being a coward? Well! He tried ascr
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