I fondly recall my childhood, a time when I was merely a young child. I would nestle into my grandmother's comforting lap as she shared enchanting tales from her own youth. These stories were a mixture of eerie folklore and mystical wonders.
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She'd regale me with accounts of peculiar creatures lurking within murky, putrid swamps, guiding unsuspecting individuals of all ages to their doom. Her voice would weave mesmerizing stories of mischievous fairies, who, with enchanting melodies, enticed children away from their homes into magical realms.
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Yet, it was her tales of cursed men, transforming into fearsome beasts beneath the glow of a full moon, that sent shivers down my spine.
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Those nights, sleep eluded me as the terror gripped my imagination.
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Now, as I reminisce about those days, I can't help but smile, for I know that monsters are nothing more than fanciful stories, right?"
***
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"Stop, you little bastard!" I shouted, my voice carrying through the bustling streets of Eldenwood.
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I sprinted as if my life depended on it, hot on the heels of a scrawny kid who owed me some cash.
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"Stop chasing me!" The little guy squeaked, his glasses threatening to take a dive, his backpack barely clinging to his shoulders. "I swear, I've got no money for you today!"
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"Then prepare for a thrashing!" I bellowed, my logic as straightforward as it gets.215Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzRL6xC5Dng
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Now, if you're scratching your head, wondering what kind of character I am, I'll admit it—I'm what you'd call a bully. Yeah, I know, not exactly a poster child for charm and manners. But let's face it, I needed cash, and I'd discovered that the quickest way to acquire it was by, well, giving people a not-so-friendly reminder of their debts. So here I was, stuck in this ridiculous chase.
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"Hey, Howard, you bastard, quit the marathon!" I roared, bulldozing my way through the crowd, completely indifferent to the curious glares and eye rolls I received along the way. Trust me, I was used to it.
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I chased that slippery little weasel through one winding street after another, hurling a flurry of curses in his direction, some of which, in hindsight, didn't even make sense.
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Our little cat-and-mouse game eventually reached its climax as I cornered Harold in a narrow alley with no escape routes.
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"I win," I declared triumphantly, advancing toward him and cracking my knuckles with an arrogant smirk.
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"Please...Leyton Please." the trembling fool stammered.
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"You made me run a marathon through this town, sweat trickling down my entire body," I grumbled, my annoyance growing by the second. "Trust me, you've got this beating coming."
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I inched even closer, cracking my knuckles like I was preparing for a heavyweight bout, just to make sure Howard knew he was in for a pounding.
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I couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh, watching him shake like a bowl of jelly. Pathetic, really. He was the poster child for an easy target, and I, well, I was just the guy to deliver.
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"Hey, Howard, maybe if you beg real nice, I'll consider giving you a beating that's, uh, minimal," I taunted, though not a single word of that was true.
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"Let's just get this over with," I said with a smirk, preparing to deliver the punch of the century right in front of Howard.
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"Stop."
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Slowly, I turned around, my eyes widening as I heard a feminine voice from behind. There she stood at the alley's entrance, a girl with long brown hair, rocking a black shirt that boldly declared "Wild Moon" on the front, complemented by black jeans and some fierce black leather boots. A white backpack rested on her back.
I have to admit, she was kinda hot, and the more I looked at her, the more that thought held true.
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This mystery girl shot me an angry glare, her hands clenched into fists. "Get away from him!" she shouted.
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I lowered my fist, somewhat taken aback, and shifted my attention to this unexpected addition to the scene.
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I couldn't help but maintain my cocky smile, not particularly worried about this girl who had seemingly taken an interest in playing the hero.
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"Listen," I began, my grin growing wider, "how about you don't sweat the small stuff." I chuckled. "You should be focusing on, well, us." I strolled confidently in front of the mysterious girl, hands on my hips.
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"Us?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.
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"Yeah," I continued with a casual shrug. "I haven't seen you around this charming little town." Eldenwood was tiny, surrounded by acres of forest and mountains. It was the sort of place where everyone knew everyone else, so I could tell she was a newcomer.
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"How about I give you the grand tour?" I suggested, flexing my muscles subtly, hoping they'd be noticeable through my clothes. I mean, hey, I did work out, after all.
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The girl's smiled wildly as she stared at me, her teeth on full display and her eyes carrying an unsettling intensity.
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I had a strange sensation wash over me, something that froze me in my tracks. A chill crawled up my spine, and my arm was covered in goosebumps. What was this feeling? I wondered, my gaze locked on the girl.
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"You little rat," she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper, but her words seemed to echo through my very being, sending a shockwave of fear throughout my body. I felt numb, and it hit me like a ton of bricks—I was afraid.215Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwX0EByFe6l
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"If you want to court me, little rat," she continued, her face drawing closer to mine, "you'll need to be more than just a pest."
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I clenched my teeth, sweat trickling down my face. Why was I so terrified of this girl?
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"A pest," I repeated, my anger rising, my fist clenched, ready to strike. "Y-you little... Bitch!" I yelled, ready to throw a punch at her face in a mix of fear and defiance.
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I didn't hold back, my fist descending with determination, my target locked on the girl's face.
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But to my astonishment, the girl didn't flinch as my fist drew nearer. Her gaze remained locked on mine, unwavering.
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It felt like time had slowed to a crawl. One moment, my fist was inches away from her face, poised to strike, and the next, she swiftly raised her hand, her index finger extending and making contact with my strike.
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"What the...?" I muttered in disbelief, unable to push my fist forward. I struggled relentlessly, but it was futile. One finger had halted my advance.
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"A pest is a pest," the girl remarked, her smile widening as she found my predicament rather amusing.
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My frustration boiled over, but my efforts were in vain. I couldn't overpower that single finger.
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Meanwhile, the girl used her free hand to casually brush her brown hair away from her face. It was clear that my struggles were beginning to bore her.
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With remarkable speed, her finger retracted, and she seized my fist with the same hand.
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"Ah!" I cried out in agony as her grip felt like an unyielding vice, causing my knuckles to crack. I crumpled to my knees, overwhelmed by the searing pain.
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"You're weak," she stated, her eyes looking down at me disapprovingly. "I don't like weak men."
***
Author notes: Please support my work on Patreon for early access to new chapters. https://patreon.com/DarkMatteromniverse
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