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“Sure,” I said, slinging my bag over my back. “Any sign of the demented bird?”
“Not today. I thought I heard something last night.”
Running my fingers into my hair, I gathered myself before leading us toward the Dark Woods.
We began to walk deeper and deeper into the forest. The silence up ahead was an indication of us nearing the Dark Woods.
It felt hotter than before. Maybe she was raining fire down over the forest in a tantrum.
A sliver of warmth tap-danced down my spine. I glanced back at Ernest, who seemed unfazed by a sudden rush of heat.
The forest floor grew murky and hard to walk through. I pressed harder and ignored the cramps in my lower stomach from the strength it took to get through it.
“Are you okay?” I asked Ernest.
“I’m fine, son. Keep going.”
Another heat waved surged over my skin. I wiped the sweat from my brow when I smelled it. The smell of food. It was then that I realized the smell. It was my wife’s apple pie.
Tears formed in my eyes, and I found myself yearning to round the corner and find her waiting on me.
I took another step, this time hearing her voice slice through the woods.
“Kellan. You’re home.” The tears lining my eyes raced down my cheeks. This was witchery. I could taste it in the air.
“No,” I whispered.
Ernest placed a palm on my shoulder. “Are you okay, son? Do you need to take a break?”
“Kellan!” she called again. My vision blurred. Reality tilted on end, and I struggled to keep the past where it belonged.
“Kellan,” she chuckled. “Come on. Your pie is getting cold.”
“Ernest,” I whispered, but nothing came out. I stumbled against the nearest tree. My surroundings began to fade into a familiar cabin. The one that I knew sat in the rubble of my old village.
Yet I still walked through it, my fingertips touching the old wooden furniture, searching for her.
She stood in the kitchen, her blonde hair piled on top of her head, with an apple pie sitting to the side. She turned to look at me with her bright features and beautiful face. “About time,” she chuckled. “I’ve been calling you for ages. Come here, sweet man. I know you’re hungry.”
I stepped over, reaching for her, reaching for a past life that I knew didn't exist, when her smile turned deep and her eyes black.
“Eat the pie,” she whispered, her voice deeper. “Eat it,” she hissed. "Now!"
I stumbled backward, running into something but not seeing anything other than her demonic glare.
A dark figure sliced through my vision and flew upward.
Deidamia’s crow cawed above me as Ernest grabbed my biceps and shook me. “Kellan. It’s not real. It’s not real.”
I blinked, and tears raced down my cheeks. A sob that I’d been holding for so long ripped from me. “I-I have to kill her, Ernest. I have to rip her to shreds for what she did.”
Ernest helped me down to the ground and bent in front of me. “You’re the one that has to do this because she took the most from you. You have to kill Deidamia.”
I braced my elbows against my knees and sobbed like a lost child.
It felt oddly satisfying, as if it lifted a weight from my shoulders. Ernest ran his palm down my head like a father would his son. “You’re stronger than she wants you to think. She’s trying to get into your head. That vision was a low blow. Her way of controlling your emotions. You can’t let her do this. We have to keep going.”
I swallowed the hardened lump in my throat. It felt like someone had shoved cotton into my mouth and it took several minutes to form words.
