Kapitel 12: Stange Call At Night!
The voice was guttural, incomprehensible, and carried an eerie, bone-chilling cadence, yet Leonard had no doubt; it had called his name.
Startled, Leonard bolted upright from the bed. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, but he forced himself to listen.
"Leo… nard," the voice croaked again, unmistakably pronouncing his name. Leonard turned toward the window, his expression a mix of shock and grim determination. There, clinging to the outside, was the creature, a monstrous lizard-like figure with scales that shimmered faintly under the moonlight.
Its lips parted slowly, revealing a grotesque semblance of a grin. Silent laughter radiated from its expression, yet there was something disturbingly familiar about it. Leonard couldn't shake the impression that the creature was displaying an emotion; happiness. The kind of glee a child might show upon discovering a new toy.
"Leo… nard," it repeated, the sound growing softer but more insistent. The creature seemed to savor the name, calling it again and again.
"Leo… nard."
"Leo… nard."
The repetition was hypnotic, almost ritualistic, and the sound clawed at Leonard's nerves. The lizard's elongated body remained eerily still, save for the subtle movements of its throat as it articulated the name.
Then, suddenly, the lizard froze. Its slitted pupils contracted sharply, like a camera lens adjusting to sudden light. A faint creak from the next room pierced the silence; the sound of a window being opened. Leonard barely had time to process what was happening before the creature darted away, its head disappearing into the darkness with a speed that was unnatural, almost surreal.
For a moment, all Leonard could hear was the faint scrape of claws against wood, growing fainter by the second. He rushed to the window, his breath visible in the cold air, and peered outside. The yard was silent, shrouded in darkness. There was no trace of the creature.
But the sound of the window opening had come from the teacher's room next door. Leonard's gaze lingered, and a thought crept into his mind.
'It's afraid of Alfonso.'
Could that enormous, spectral lizard be one of Alfonso's creations? A monster raised by the teacher? Leonard's mind raced as he recalled his notes. It was not uncommon for wizards to keep strange creatures as pets or experimental subjects. Many created alchemical constructs or enslaved beings from other races to aid in their research. Such creatures often served dual purposes: assistants in dangerous experiments or raw materials for future endeavors.
The lizard potion that had caused David's grotesque transformation; it might have originated from this creature.
---
The next morning, Leonard was startled awake by the sound of commotion outside.
"Dad! Come quick! Look at the wall!" a boy's voice rang out, filled with excitement and fear.
This was followed by a deeper voice exclaiming in disbelief. "What in heaven's name—?"
Leonard sat up, still groggy. He quickly dressed, pulling on his coat and boots before heading downstairs. The faint aroma of milk and baked bread filled the air as he passed the kitchen. A plump woman in a red dress bustled by, carrying a steaming cup of milk. "Good morning, guest," she said, her tone polite but hurried.
Outside, the morning sunlight revealed the source of the commotion. In the yard stood a man and a boy, both staring at the outer wall of the farmhouse. Leonard stepped closer and followed their gaze.
The wall was marred with deep, jagged claw marks. The gouges were uneven but unmistakably the work of a large creature. They stretched across the surface like the tracks of a wild beast.
The man, whom Leonard now saw more clearly in the daylight, had curly brown hair and wore a light yellow turtleneck under a tailored jacket, paired with slim jeans and sturdy boots. His son, a freckle-faced boy of about twelve, stood beside him, his strong frame tense with curiosity and fear.
Leonard felt a cold dread creep over him. He recognized the pattern of the marks immediately.
The man, Don Quixote, spoke up, his voice wary. "No wonder Sweet Potato's acting strange. The poor dog won't leave the kennel this morning, no matter how much I call."
His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at Leonard. "This… thing," Don Quixote said cautiously, gesturing at the claw marks, "showed up after you and your companion stayed the night."
Though his tone remained polite, Leonard sensed an underlying suspicion. Don Quixote didn't explicitly accuse him, but the message was clear: the guests were unwelcome now. He was already planning their departure.
Not far away, the stable door creaked open. Don Quixote reemerged moments later with a plate of fresh bread and milk. He carried it with a calm air, as though trying to maintain normalcy despite the unsettling events.
"Kenny," he called, addressing the man in the stale; in the stable, "have some breakfast."
Kenny rubbed his eyes wearily, his movements slow as the morning chill still clung to his body. ' wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders, eyeing Don Quixote as he set the plate of bread and milk before him.
"Why are you so generous today, Grandet?" he asked, his voice thick with suspicion. Despite his curiosity, he didn't hesitate to take a sip of the warm milk. The heat coursed through his, offering a moment of comfort after the long, cold night spent in the carriage.
Don Quixote didn't answer immediately, his face marked with an uncharacteristic tension. "What's the story with those two guests?" he asked at last, his voice huhed, as though afraid of being overheard.
Kenny raised an eyebrow, tearing off a piece of bread with deliberate slowness. "You know as well as I do," he replied, his words muffled as he chewed, "in my line of work, the golden rule is never to pry into a guest's background."
He caught the way his brows furrowed deeper and the way he turned away, clearly lost in thought. His silence spoke volumes, and though Kenny had his own suspicions, he said nothing. It wasn't his place, and truth be told, he didn't want to know.
How could anyone ignore the peculiarities of these travelers? The tall one dressed like a walking patchwork curtain had unsettled even the horses. Lily and jenny, his trusted companions for nearly a decade, had whinnied and stomped nervously the moment he approached. They had seen their fair share of rough men, but never had they reacted so violently.
Still, Kenny reminded himself, 'it's not my business.' He was just a coachwoman trying to earn a living. His job was simple: get them to Bangor Harbor. No questions, no meddling. That was how one stayed alive in a world as unpredictable as this.
---
After breakfast, Leonard prepared to leave, packing his meager belongings with practiced efficiency. Just as he stepped outside, a small voice called from behind him.
"Hey! Are you a guest from far away?"
Leonard turned to find a boy standing there, no older than twelve. Freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, and his wide eyes sparkled with curiosity as they locked onto Leonard.
Leonard smiled gently, crouching slightly to meet the boy's gaze. "I suppose you could say that," he replied. "I've traveled quite a distance."
The boy's excitement grew. "Can you tell me about your home? What's it like there?"
Leonard's smile faltered for a moment. Home. What was there to say? He could barely remember it; plague, war, and famine had consumed it not long after he'd arrived in this world. The memories he did have were clouded with hardship and loss.
"Honestly," he began after a pause, "it's not so different from here. The people, the houses; they're much the same. The only real difference is the way we talk. Our dialect is a little different."
"Oh," the boy said, clearly disappointed. The light in his eyes dimmed, but Leonard wasn't done.
"However," he added, a playful glint in his eye, "I did see something incredible on my journey."
The boy perked up immediately, his enthusiasm returning. "What was it?"
Leonard leaned in slightly, his tone dropping as if he were sharing a secret. "There was this one village I passed through. A plague had swept through it, leaving no one alive. Some of the travelers I was with wanted to search the abandoned houses for food and shelter. But that night, something terrible happened."
The boy's eyes widened, and he leaned forward eagerly, hanging on Leonard's every word.
"Monsters came from the mountains," Leonard continued, his voice low and steady. "Huge, grotesque things stitched together from pieces of corpses. They had five heads, ten hands, and bodies as round as barrels. Their skin was patched with stitches, like they'd been sewn together by a madman."
The boy swallowed hard, his freckles paling. He looked both terrified and utterly captivated.
"They moved silently at first," Leonard said, adding a dramatic pause. "But then, the screeching started; an unholy noise that shook the ground. We barely escaped."
The boy's jaw hung open, his breathing shallow. Leonard couldn't hold back his laughter any longer.
"Haha! Relax," he said, patting the boy's shoulder. "I'm only joking. It wasn't that scary."
The boy's cheeks flushed red, and he let out a shaky laugh, though his hands still trembled. "You scared me! I thought that was real!"
Leonard grinned. "It wasn't as bad as five heads and ten hands, no. Just three heads and five hands."
The boy froze, his laughter vanishing in an instant. His wide eyes filled with renewed horror, and Leonard couldn't suppress another chuckle.
"Don't worry, kid," he said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Stick close to your father, and you'll be just fine."
The boy didn't look convinced, but he managed a small nod. As Leonard turned to leave, he couldn't help but smile to himself. 'Sometimes, a little mystery was the best way to keep life interesting.'
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein