Valor in Disguise

A warm, calloused hand gently grasped th shoulder, pulling me away from my dreams. Slowly, I awoke to a familiar, low timbre voice.

"Miranda, it's time to wake up."

"Hm..." I mumbled, pulling the covers closer.

The person beside me chuckled. "Come on, sleepy head. If you wake up now, maybe I will help practice with your slingshot after work."

As soon as I heard the word "slingshot," I was wide awake and quickly sat up in bed.

"I'm awake!"

In front of me, my father laughed. His large, calloused hand patted my dark-haired head, and his warm, brown eyes met my hazel ones.

"I figured. Go get ready. Your mother is looking after your brother right now, but she left breakfast ready for you."

I nodded and got up.

"I will be outside getting things ready. Don't take too long. The sun is already up."

My father said as he walked out of the room. I quickly went to my room, which I shared with my brother.

Our house was small, with wooden walls, floors, and ceiling, but very cozy. It kept us warm and protected from the harsh storms during Winter. We had a kitchen, two rooms, a washroom, and a small basement. My mother and father shared one room, the larger one, while my twin brother, Marcus, and I shared the other. However, since Marcus recently caught a cold, I'd been sleeping with my parents to avoid getting ill too.

I walked out of my parents' room and entered mine. Inside, I found mother sitting on the bed, gently wiping sweat from my brother's face.

My mother was not exceptionally beautiful, but her soft demeanor and charming smile made her look lively and loving. She had wavy chestnut hair with a few strands of gray showing, which she kept in a braid down to the middle of her back. Her sun-kissed skin unmarred, except only for a few small scars here and there from childhood accidents and work. She also had freckles, which added to her charm.

My father, on the other hand, was a rugged man with a deep voice and wiry black hair, which he kept tied in a low ponytail. He wasn't exactly handsome, but he was kind, gentle, and protective. His inherent honesty, which prevented him from hiding his emotions, was what drew my mother to him.

Both my brother and I inherited my father's black hair. Marcus copied father's haircut, while I often let mine loose. Since it only reached my shoulders, it didn't get in the way. My eyes were also hazel like mother's, but Marcus had light brown eyes. Even so, everyone always said we are very alike, and even mother got our names wrong sometimes.

She turned to me, a gentle smile on her face, though her hazel eyes hid her worry.

"Mira, dear, did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Yes, very well. How is Marcus?" I walked closer to the bed but kept some distance, as per mother's request.

She turned to him, her previous smile fading. "He is a bit feverish, but he seems to be breathing better. Mr. Silva will be coming later to check up on him."

Mr. Silva was the doctor of our town, Rivermouth. He appeared frail on the outside, with a bald head and a very long white beard, but he was quite tough. Everyone knew him and had been cured by his healing skills at some point, so even though he was harsh and austere, people forgave him and were thankful. His granddaughter, Helena, was 10 years old, only a year older than me and Marcus. She's also my best friend and we often play together. Recently, however, we haven't had time to play much because she began assisting Mr. Silva and beginning her training as a healer.

Feeling relieved that Mr. Silva would take care of Marcus, I quickly got dressed and had breakfast before heading outside to meet Father.

Rivermouth was a small town, where everybody knew everybody. My father worked on the fields near the forest, employed by Lord Tiller. To get there, we had to walk for a little over half an hour throught the town and then a little longer to reach the fields. Summer was ending, and the chilly wind signaled the approach of autumn. Soon, the crops would be ready to harvest, and this year promised a good harvest, so the townspeople were hopeful for the winter.

The houses in Rivermouth were mostly made of wood and granite, with thatched roofs. We were a poor town, but our lives were comfortable and peaceful, and we mostly got along with each other. Despite being early in the morning, there were already people up and about.

As I walked with father, I greeted the familiar faces we came across.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tucket! The bread smells delicious!"

Mr. and Mrs. Tucket owned a bakery and were known for providing the best bread in town. They frequently sent deliveries to Rivermouth’s only Inn/tavern, The Red Pony, which was owned by Mr. Mercer, a very cheerful man.

The chubby, hearthy lady grinned proudly. "Of course it does! And tastes delicious too, no doubt there! Come back after work, I'll save you a loaf."

I shouted a thank you as I walked away, with energy in my every step. Everywhere, people were waking up and preparing to begin work. I also saw Mrs. Hogg, a skillful midwife who helped with almost all the births in Rivermouth, including the more recent babe, Mr. and Mrs. Clark’s healthy son. Father and mother had been ecstatic when they heard the news, as they were very good friends with the couple.

Mr. Clark and his brothers were the town’s hunters, along with Mr. Salter, and their hunting gear was expertly crafted by the town’s blacksmith, Mr. Graves. I met him only once, and he came across as a grumpy men with a strange humor, and who was not very sociable. Still, father respected him a lot, saying Mr. Graves was a retired soldier who fought the Outbreak 40 years ago.

All these people were part of my hometown, and I’d known them all my life. Despite not having much, we were like a big family, and I truly believed this was where I was going to live for the rest of my life. I was probably going to be a seamstress like mother, and like grandmother and her mother before her too. I was fine with it, I like sowing and mending clothes. I also liked cooking and thought maybe I could help at the bakery too. Mrs. Tucket definitely would not mind it. However, I loved outdoor activities a lot too. If I was a boy, like Marcus, I would try to become a huntsmen, and use my slingshot skills to cacth rabbits. Either that or a sheperd, since I also liked animals a lot. However, if I were a boy like Marcus, most likely I would become a farmer like father too.

Field work, much like hunting, was considered a job for men, while housework was considered a woman's role. Marcus usually went with father to help in the fields, while I stayed at home with mother, taking care of the house and running errands. However, since Marcus was sick and father needed help, I had taken his place for the time being.

It was indeed very hard work, especially since I wasn't used to it, but since Marcus and I were still young, our tasks were relatively simple and the hours passed quickly. By the end of the day, I was completely sore and drenched in sweat, but content to have been useful to father. He too seemed satisfied with today's productivity.

The sun was low on the horizon now, marking the end of the day's work, and the other men were already heading home. Father called me and suggested we head back home too. However, I didn't forget his promise from this morning.

"You said I could practice with my slingshot!"

His expression turned to one of surprise before he smiled down at me. "You're right, I almost forgot. Let's practice for a bit."

We headed to the forest nearby and found a small clearing surrounded by tall pines. My father picked up a log and set it vertically on top of a rock. He then took ten steps and drew a line in the dirt. I stood behind the line and loaded my slingshot with a pebble.

"The logs are heavy; you probably can't take them down, so the goal is to hit the log," he said.

I got into position, and as he gave instructions and tips from the side, I shot the pebble, nearly hitting the log. My father cheered, and I felt my competitiveness rising. I was determined to hit that log before going home.

Of course, slingshots and playing with rocks and pebbles weren't considered proper activities for a young woman. But I had seen my father teaching Marcus one time and begged to try it. Father wasn't one to care much about what was proper or not, so he agreed to teach me. Mother wasn't very happy about it, but father convinced her to let me, saying I was only a child, and there was no harm in teaching me.

This quickly became my favorite activity, and I trained hard whenever I had the chance. I was even better than Marcus. He didn't care much, but I still liked to tease him about it.

Father and I spent more than an hour practicing with my slingshot before heading home. We had been so distracted that we completely lost track of time. When we emerged from the forest, we were greeted with a sight that would forever be imprinted in my mind.

The sun had set sometime ago, but the starry night sky was obscured. The sky was a ceiling of fog and smoke, colored in reds, oranges, and grays. The fields were set ablaze, like a sea of raging fire about to engulf the small town.

I clutched Father's clothes in fear, which seemed to snap him out of his shock. He turned to me, gripping my shoulders with some force as he commanded.

"Stay here, I will go to town and find your mother and brother. Do not move!"

He had never spoken to me so severely and gravely, nor had he ever looked at me with such fear in his eyes. I could only nod.

Father turned and ran to town, leaving me alone in the dark forest.

I waited for hours, tightly clenching the slingshot in my hands. It felt like time had slowed down, yet the screams from my hometown never stopped. In the distance, I could see some figures fleeing everywhere, but I couldn't tell who they were. Father also never came back. Our house was not that far. He should have been back by now.

Afraid of staying in the dark forest alone, but also scared to find out what was going on, I remained frozen still, anxiously waiting and unsure which action to take. Then I saw a woman heading my way, and quickly recognized her.

"Mrs. Clark!"

Mrs. Clark was covered in ash and her tears left glistening lines one her terror-stricken face. In her arms, her little boy was tightly wrapped in a blanket, crying hysterically. She looked around in shock, before finding me in the dark. She rushed to me.

"Miranda, what are you doing here?" She yelled at me, not in anger, but in fear.

"F-Father, he said to wait here, but he should have come back by now."

Mrs. Clark looked at me with pity and sadness. "Come with me, let us get out of here, it's not safe."

She reached towards me, but I quickly stepped back. Dread and incredulity pooled at my stomach.

"Where is my father?", I asked, voice trembling. She didn't answer, but I saw the grief in her eyes.

"No... NO!"

I yelled and rushed passed her. She tried to grab me, but with a baby in her arms, she was not quick enough. She shouted after me, but the roaring fire and the screams quickly drowned out her voice.

I did not believe it. I refused to believe it! Father said he would come back. He said he was going to get mother and Marcus. Maybe he was helping other escaping too and got delayed. Father always said helping those in need is the biggest virtue of all.

Yes, he is just delayed. I will find him and help him, and then we can all leave here.

As I approached, I saw more people running to the fields. They were covered in blood and ash, their expressions that of pure terror. I vaguely recognized Mr. Mercer stumbling onto the fields, his left hand tightly grasping a broken right arm. I realized with dread that they did not care that they were running closer to the fire, which meant that whatever was happening in town was much, much worse.

I needed to quickly find my family and get out of here. Steeling my nerved, I forced myself to further into town.

In Rivermouth, ash, sulfur, and smoke polluted the air, and people coughed in pain as they breathed in the poisoned air, which blackened the lungs and burned the throat. I coughed and felt pain in my throat. My eyes teared up from the pain and smoke. Still, I pushed forward, with my arm covering my mouth.

Houses of wood and granite were blown away and leveled to the ground, others were set ablaze. Entire families either burned alive or crushed under the ceilings of their homes. The streets of the usual serene town, paved with granite stones and gravel, were running red with blood. Corpses, mangled and broken, lay scattered, portraying a bizarre and hellish scene. The remaining survivors were running and fleeing everywhere, screaming in panic and terror.

I couldn't recognize the peaceful town I'd always known, and became disoriented. I couldn't process what I was seeing or understand what was right in front of me. My home was being destroyed. The people who saw me grow up were being killed. It was hell, but I could not understand what had brought this upon us.

And that's when I heard it.

The eery screeches and snapping sounds. I froze in place, and looked to the street to my left.

Terrifying creatures as tall as horses ran rampant, brutally slaughtering any living being they came across. Their veiny skin was ashen-pale and glistened due to the whitish mucus it produced. The skin stretched over skeletal forms with long, lithe limbs, each ending in three razor-sharp claws. Their backs were hunched, vertebrae and ribs showing through the skin, yet their bones were stronger than stone. Mouths filled with two sets of razor-sharp teeth devoured human flesh, making squelching, snapping, and crushing sounds. The most horrifying thing, though, was the eyes. A thousand tiny beady eyes aggregated in two giant orbs, filled with nothing but endless hunger.

And then, suddenly, the monster was just there, only a few meter away from me. Its attention focused on me. I vaguely remember a deafening scream, followed by an intense iron flavor flooding my mouth. My legs gave out and I fell to the floor.

I felt myself drowning in terror, and my throat closed up. I couldn't breathe, the air burned me from the inside. I felt sick and heaved violently, but nothing came out. The monster, however, jumped towards me at that instant, and my blood and marrow turned ice cold.

Closing my eyes, the last thing I saw was the inside of the monster's mouth.