"That's me? But I can't remember any of this." Loch muttered to himself as he stared at the familiar people but also at the unfamiliar surroundings. The younger version of Loch stood up from his position among the flower beds, catching his older self's attention. Along with a frown on his chubby cheeks, he patted the dirt off his knees and, to his older self's shock, looked right at him. "This doesn't count as your win, Uncle Wayne. The knight didn't slay the fiend." Younger Loch said with a cheeky smile. Loch, himself, didn't reply. He couldn't hold back a shiver that ran down his back from the little boy's stare. Checking behind him and to the sides, Loch looked back at the boy and, still seeing the boy's clear eyes staring right into his, he pointed at himself. "Are you talking to me?" Loch said. His younger self crossed his arms in a huff and replied, "Stop playing, Uncle Wayne; I'm not a Fiend anymore."
Loch didn't reply again, not just because his younger self was talking to him, which shocked him. But his previous voice, thin and reedy, had transformed; now, resonating from his chest, it boomed with power. Looking down at his clothes gave him another shock. Loch was only now aware that his clothes were completely different from what he was wearing when he entered the cave. He wore a clean white shirt, a dark red waistcoat, and smooth dark trousers. The waistcoat held a golden stitched crest on the top left. From Loch's angle, he could only make out what appeared to be some kind of bird in a diving position. There was also something within its claws, but he couldn't make out what it was.
Continuing his inspection of what he now truly noticed was an unfamiliar body of his, he found that even his hands were different. They were massive to his eyes, and the palms looked filled with callouses. As he rubbed his fingertips together, it felt like sandpaper. "Uncle Wayne! What's wrong? Are you mad at me?" Loch's younger voice, calling out from ahead of him, brought his attention back to the boy in the flower bed. Seeing the boy's worried face and the woman further up also gave him a confused look. Loch decided to play along for the moment. He needed time by himself to clear his head and to figure out what was going on. "Nothing is wrong... Loch. You should get going though, your... mother… has called you for dinner." Loch said he tried his best to keep a calm tone of voice but couldn't help stumbling over a couple of the words.
"Alrighty! I hope Chef Jackie has made sweet plum for dessert again. I'll ask her to save you some, too." Loch's younger self cried out; his trembling lip switched back to an enormous grin in a flash. Almost as if he thought his dinner was going to disappear, his younger self took off like a bullet and ran past his mother and into the house. When the boy ran past his mother, her face couldn't help but break out into a gentle smile as she playfully batted his rump with a tinkling laugh. The beautiful woman turned back to Loch, who was still standing at the end of the garden, and beckoned with a smile, "Don't worry about helping little Loch change before dinner. I'll give him a bath afterward myself. I also told Jackie to make a plate for you, too. Knowing your love for Greyhog meat. I'll get her to heat it up for you after Loch goes to sleep." The woman's smooth voice addressing him made his heart sting. It felt to Loch as if someone had driven a needle into an open wound and made his chest stuffy. Not trusting his voice at that moment, Loch just gave the woman a heavy nod and began to make his way towards the house. Following the woman, who entered through the doors after her soon, alongside the two heavily armored guards, after she finished speaking to him.
Loch stopped at the threshold, the interior obscured by a curtain of distortion. Blocking his view of the inside. For a reason, he couldn't understand but felt deep within his bones, a feeling of utmost terror took hold of him. With Loch's hands trembling, he took a step back and took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. "Come on, Loch. Man up." Just as he was about to take a step towards the shimmering curtain again, a small voice in his head that sounded just like the younger version of himself cried out, 'Don't come in! Don't come in! It's not real! It didn't happen! Don't come in!'
The voice hit his head like a hammer and made him feel dizzy. Even taking a couple of steps back from the open door didn't turn it off, though. Clutching his head, Loch turned away from the house and scrunched his face in pain. Its insistent childish screams keep reverberating within his skull. 'Don't go in! It's not real! It's not reallll!!!' "Ahhhhhhh, shuttttt uppppp!!!" After several minutes, Loch couldn't help but roar towards the sky. His previous rich voice transformed between his immature own and back again throughout his scream. It was as if two people were screaming from within him. The voice of his younger self ceased at that moment, and his clouded head began to clear. Opening his closed eyes, Loch looked past the beautifully arranged flower bed, blowing in the breeze, and took a moment to calm himself. Attempting to wash away all his thoughts and just focus on the flowers. It worked for the most part, but the sound of a large bird's cry, which sounded like a cross between a reptile and an eagle, coming from further ahead, made him look up in shock.
Right above the green field Loch had awoken in, a massive storm cloud had gathered. The sun's light had no chance of cutting through this dense cloud formation. Bright blue lightning ran erratically throughout while deep peals of thunder boomed, shaking the earth as if some primordial giant were stomping his way toward him. A dark silhouette ignited as a particularly large thunderbolt shot across the sky, revealing the form of a midnight black bird the size of a battleship hovering within. After that flash, the beast was obscured by the heavy cloud cover again. But in that brief moment, Loch glimpsed something that took his breath away and filled his heart with pure wonder at its majesty. Another colossal cry sounded out from deep within the clouds. This one was felt as if the whole world shook from the force of it. Something ripped the flowers from the flower bed before Loch and sent them torpedoing toward him in a violent, sideways cyclone. The sight made Loch jump back in rising horror, almost causing him to fall through the open door, while the storm clouds above that had originally just sat in the sky began to move towards him as well. Just like when he was climbing the mountain, Loch knew he couldn't let the clouds reach him, and with no more hesitation, he took one last step backward through the door and its shimmering curtain.
"FACE YOUR NIGHTMARE!" A loud voice boomed in his ears the moment he crossed the doorway.
He was once again blinded by a flash, and after only a couple of blinks, he took stock of his new surroundings and saw he was sitting on a chair within a decent-sized chamber. Shaking his head to clear the ringing from the voice that roared in his ears, 'Nightmare, what nightmare?' Loch questioned to himself. Realizing he wasn't going to get any answers ,just pondering. He instead began to take a closer look around to see if the bedroom gave him any clues. Going by the objects scattered around the room, like the toy sword and gun, Loch took an educated guess and realized he was in a boy's room. A set of finely carved figurines sitting on top of a dresser gave him pause. The figurines were of a wide variety. Some posed long-coated men with clawed hands and wielding pistols. Others were heavily plated knights with swords and shields. One of them even looked to be a hooded figure wielding a staff with one hand and gesturing forward with the other.
A buried memory arose at the sight of the figures. A large, muscular man with a heavy beard loomed; his features blurred. Except for his large, toothy smile. A young boy of one or two snuggled against his chest as he sat on the steps of a house in the summer heat. Looking like a tiny little puppy compared to the large size of the man. A pair of scarred hands was carving at a piece of wood with smooth, controlled strokes. The child's glittering eyes gazed at the man's work, and an overall feeling of excitement radiated from the child. "You can borrow one if you want, Uncle Wayne. But you have to give it back in the morning." A familiar child's voice dragged him from memory and back into the room he found himself in after entering through the door.
Loch was currently sitting on a stool next to a large pillow-filled bed. A little mop of sandy hair could be seen peaking above a thick blanket on the bed just to his right. The child was also looking at the figurines on the dresser. His eyes carried a trace of sorrow not matched with one so young. Loch took a deep look at the boy within the blankets and the surrounding room. He couldn't stop the rising feeling of fear growing within him the more he looked around. Blurry memories began to flutter through his mind, increasing his ever-rising tension. "Uncle Wayne, do I have to go to Poppy's grandfather's birthday tomorrow? Can't we just play in the garden instead?" Loch's younger self's words made him lurch to his feet, knocking over the stool and sending it clattering across the floor. A memory of a particularly stormy night came unbidden to his mind at that point. This one, however, Loch cut off straight away, as he cried out, "No! It didn't happen! She's still out there!"
"Uncle Wayne... what's wrong?" Loch's younger self stuttered; the actions of his perceived Uncle Wayne caused tears to begin to well in his eyes. Hearing the frightened tone from the little boy brought Loch's outburst to come to an abrupt halt. He didn't dare to meet the child's eyes and turned, only to come face to face with a stand-up mirror that was in the corner of the room. Seeing the figure looking back at him. Loch couldn't stop a choked sob from escaping his mouth that was accompanied by the loud crash of thunder. The person in the mirror was a hard-faced, middle-aged man. He had a shiny bald head, with big bushy eyebrows hanging over violet-colored eyes. A clean-shaven chiseled jaw with a lean but muscular build completed the picture of a dapple-dressed gentleman staring back at Loch. "Ah… Uncle Wayne..." Loch couldn't help but say it in a foreign but now familiar voice.
Even though silent tears leaked out, the warm, deep voice coming from his own mouth couldn't help but bring a small smile to the middle-aged man's face in the mirror. "Uncle Wayne I'm sca..." Loch's younger self's sniffled-filled voice, which was accompanied by more booming peels of thunder and rain, was cut off by the sound of a heavy crash coming from below their room. The bedroom they were in shook with the force of whatever had crashed below them. Loch guessed that it was something coming through a window as the sound of breaking glass was prominent. A set of women's desperate screams and the bellows of valiant men soon covered the noise of shattering glass and the splintering of wood. Sounds of battle and bloodshed rocked the house inside and out.
"We're under attack! Get the madam and young master to saf…" A composed voice boomed out from below but was cut off by the sound of several bestial roars and then the clashing of steel. The thudding sound of hoofbeats, which sounded like a herd of buffalo stampeding, rang out from outside the manor. They were soon met with the sound of armored, heavy-plated steps and a group of men shouting as one, "For the gathering storm!!! We are the tempest!!! Charge!!!" Sounds of feral beasts roaring and the screams of men dying rang throughout the air. The thundering storm above boomed across the sky, its ever-fastening peels of thunder, a war drum in play for the battle below.
All the noises ringing in Loch's ears struck his beating heart like a rattle. His mind worked in overdrive, with images of a similar stormy night playing out in his head; he shook it vigorously in an attempt to clear his thoughts. Turning back to the bed, he found the younger Loch hiding under a blanket, his sobs muffled. "Maybe. Maybe this time it can be different." Loch, with the background of crashes and yells coming from without the entire house, muttered. His face was a picture of fear and uncertainty, with a heavy sweat building upon his brow, but a twinkle of something else started to rise within his eyes. A wild idea sparked in his mind, causing his hunched posture to straighten and a look of madness to cross his face. "Yes, this time, it'll be different. I won't have to watch."
With large strides, Loch approached the bed and removed the cover. His younger self's body was revealed. He had his little head tucked, with his knees brought to his chest. Looking like a curled shrimp. "Mummy." The child sniffed out, as his tightly shut eyes cracked open a sliver. The sight of the middle-aged Uncle Wayne Loch was impersonating, brought a little calm to the boy's terrified eyes. But the sound of a high-pitched scream followed by a loud splatting noise, like someone had thrown an entire pot of soup on the outside wall, made the boy cry out in fear. Loch, knowing in the back of his mind that he was running out of the little time he had, forcefully grabbed the boy from his bed and wrapped his small frame in a hug. The child instinctively wrapped his arms around Loch's neck and his little legs around his waist.
Approaching the door while rubbing the child's mop of hair in what Loch hoped was a reassuring way. He put his free right hand on the door, and after trying to lower his own rapid breaths, he said to the boy in his embrace, "Everything is going to be fine, Loch; we're going to get your mother and play Knight and Fiends in the forest. But you have to promise me you'll keep your eyes closed." Hearing nothing but sniffles from the boy, Loch said again with a touch of heat in his voice, "Promise me, Loch. This is very important. You must promise you won't open your eyes until I tell you to! No matter what." After several more sobs into his chest, a voice finally squeezed out, "I promise, Uncle Wayne."
"Good boy." Loch said. After receiving the shaky promise from his younger self, he turned the doorknob and swung it wide. Standing to the side of the door, Loch leaned his head out to inspect the hall. With the door open, Loch witnessed a hallway filled with a maelstrom of body parts and blood. His face paled at the sight while he tried hard to swallow the rising bile. A grotesque creature stood only a few feet from the door Loch just opened. With its back turned, the creature, a bizarre blend of human and bull, was engrossed in devouring what seemed to be a human limb. With a wide, muscular, fury back and two strong legs ending in hooves, the creature, even from behind, radiated brutal ferocity and strength. The sound of flesh and bone being torn and crunched sent Loch's fragile nerves into a frenzy. After a large swallow, Loch tried his best to step into the hallway and then began to sidestep to his right as quietly as a mouse. He even managed to make it several feet before he stepped on a pool of blood that caused him to lose his footing and stumble loudly in the dead of the hallway to keep himself standing.
The hairy beast crouched over its meal, stopped its crunching, making Loch hold his breath, and even the boy in his grasp, somehow feeling the rising tension, quieted down. With a wet squish sound, the beast dropped its meal onto the floor, showing it to be what was once a woman's leg, with half of the thigh chewed through. In a slow but menacing way, it rose to its full height, seeming to fill the already large hallway. Revealing a giant set of curved horns that almost touched the ceiling, the beast turned to face Loch. The beast stood upright like a man, and although it didn't have a weapon in either of its head-sized fur-covered hands, it radiated danger and bloodlust. A massive bull's head, with its large bloodshot brown eyes, gazed at Loch, freezing him in place with its mere presence.
Large globs of blood mixed with saliva dripped from the bull's half-opened mouth. As the bull breathed through its ringed nose, it sounded like a blacksmith's bellow, adding to its mighty countenance. Loch's trembling eyes mirrored the scene, yet his vision seemed doubled. One of a height near his knees and the one now. The images overlapped and caused him to feel numb to his bones. With a menace-filled grin, the bull took a single step toward Loch, its powerful thigh propelling it as Loch pressed himself against the wall, wishing it would swallow him whole. The sight made the bull's grin split even wider as a teeth-chattering rumble gathered in its gut and rose to its muscular chest. The sound made Loch cry out and crouch down while turning his body so his back was facing the monster.
After several seconds of waiting for the attack and the continued chesty rumbling coming behind, the terror-frozen mind in Loch's head clicked. As if he was suddenly zapped, he stood and turned back to the beast with a savage snarl on his face. 'It wasn't preparing for an attack! It's... laughing!!!' An affronted and venom-filled younger voice cried in Loch's mind. "Go to hell, you animal!!" Loch roared. A feeling of a storm gathering within himself made his gut churn, and the more he matched stares with the blood-covered creature, the more that feeling of rising energy filled his entire boy. In a clear response to Loch's cry, the beast stopped its bass-rumbling laughs, and with eyes wide in uncontrolled rage, it leaned forwards and bellowed right back.
The bellow was so loud and vigorous that it even pushed Loch's current adult body back a fraction. With a stomp to stabilize himself, Loch felt the storm within rise to his chest, and as if it was a derailed train, it was coming full steam ahead, whether or not he liked it. Riding on pure instinct, Loch raised his left hand, palm faced towards the beast, while holding tight to the child with his right. The full steam ahead train, finally appearing to find a track, stopped its uncontrollable surging and swiftly turned from Loch's chest, following his left arm past his shoulder. When the train of power passed over his shoulder, Loch saw firsthand his clean, wide shirt burst into a shower of fabric strips as his arm bulged slightly. The toned muscle rippled with pronounced veins, even though Loch appeared to be the one controlling this unknown power. He knew that it was some other thing within his current body, driving it as if the meat suit he was wearing was relying on muscle memory more than Loch's own will. As he pondered over these odd disembodied feelings, thin bolts of red electricity arced out of his skin, running all down his arm and into his hand, which had now transformed into long, slender fingers tipped in grey-colored talons. With a static charge rising in the air, the child's hair in his grasp rose while even the bull-typed fur on the bellowing beast began to stand up.
Not knowing why, Loch knew he needed to release the tempest that had been trapped within him as soon as possible, or something bad would happen. Although his accumulation of power and introspection felt like it took several minutes, only seconds had actually passed. Loch took another stomping foot forward, and now, with his taloned hand gripped in a fist, he punched out with a roar of his own. Even though he was still several feet away from the beast, Loch just knew his punch would land and land it did. A giant fist made from pure, crackling red electricity roared out from Loch's fist and slammed into the beast's muscular chest. With a burnt hair aroma and a boom as if a tree toppling over, the bull-faced beast's chest caved in, and the sound of bones splintering rang throughout the hallway. The bull-headed beast spat up a mouth full of yellow-colored blood. The immense force of the punch sent the massive creature airborne, smashing through the wooden wall.
Loch attempted to whoop for joy at the sight, but as if all the energy was sucked out of him, a great wave of exhaustion hit him. Sending him kneeling in place and gasping for breath. "Soil it. I feel like butter scraped over too much bread. Ha." Loch said between gasps.
"Loch!!" A woman's concern-filled cry caused both Loch and the boy in his grasp to look over. Seeing the fatigue and blood splattered form of the woman running towards him, Loch's eyes couldn't help shining. Just as he was about to shout out mother, a younger, tear-filled voice beat him to it, "Mummy!!" Holding tight to the child, who had begun to raise his head, Loch yelled, "Don't forget your promise! Don't open your eyes!"