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Fox And Sphinx (Short Story)
Read Count : 105
Category : Stories
Sub Category : Fantasy
A young boy walked in the empty woods. He was scared. Of what would jump out, attack him, maul him, kill him. He was no less than 10. His bushy and uncombed long hair hung lower than his shoulders, the only clothing he had on him were tight, torn jeans that barely fit him and a purple and black striped shirt. All he had with him? A card deck. He nervously looked around, fear in his eyes, trying not to make his breathing loud or making any noises that may disturb any creatures in the area. The grey, yet not wilted grass licked his feet silently. He occasionally looked up at the purple sky, and massive grey-leaved trees. He suddenly heard a weird sound, and stopped in his tracks, hair sticking up. It sounded like.. Something was popping. No. Burning. He panicked, and then he heard a sizzle. Thank god, it wasn’t a fire. It was just someone cooking something. It made his stomach grumble so loudly he jumped and looked around. His mother once said said, "The Utopians like eating little children like you. Don’t trust them." Abner was growing nervous. He was so hungry, maybe asking for a bit wouldn’t be terrible. Maybe they’d have some mercy on him and let him have the entire thing. Maybe some water. His instinct told him no, to leave and run. He was too weary to listen. He slowly walked to the noise. Eyes wide, careful to not step on any twigs, he looked from behind a very pale and thick tree. It was a woman. She had a white dress that went to her ankles, made out of linen, if he had to assume. She had golden sandals with emeralds on them, and her ebony hair was tied in a ponytail. She was dark-skinned, with refined eyeliner that had obviously had a lot of work put into it. She had a few golden bracelets on her wrists and her eyes were a startling green. And almost instantly, her eyes drifted right to Abner. Abner jumped, but her stare had him locked in place. It reminded him of those documentaries of snakes standing still before they attacked their prey. She simply smiled, and looked back at her food cooking in the barbeque. She had a trailer, with some steps leading to a door with her items most likely inside, and some lawn chairs at the front. For wearing such nice bracelets, Abner thought that she would be living in a mansion. He was so hungry, he had lost sight of his instincts. He slowly walked over to her, and she did nothing. Soon enough, he was right next to her, looking at the food anxiously as she flipped the juicy-looking steak. “Well, aren’t you a hungry one.” She looked at him. “Are you Domuian?” “Ahuh.” Abner nodded. His stomach grumbled loudly again, his eyes fixated on the food. “Ah, you poor thing. Dreadful people.” She grabbed a couple of plastic plates, passing one to him. “You aren’t going to kill me.” Abner intended for it to sound like a question, but it came out more like a statement. “Of course I’m not.” She laughed. “I don’t kill the small Domuians. I don’t like the adults. Those, I will gladly have for dinner.” Abner looked down. “You don’t have to tell me your story right now.” She said. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear it later.” She grabbed a spatula and but one of the steaks on Abner’s plate. Abner liked this lady. She didn’t kill children, she didn’t like the people who had banished him, and most of all, she had given him free food without question. Abner saw the lady out to grab a plastic fork and knife, but he grabbed it with his hands and gnawed it, dropping his card deck, a few cards spilling out of the box. He grabbed it with his bare, dirty hands, gripped and bit into it with the strength he had. The lady laughed. “My, I underestimated your hunger.” When Abner was finished, he felt slightly embarrassed. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “It’s not you who needs to apologize.” The Nice Lady replied. “Which General banished you?” Abner thought. “Maximilien.” “Augh. You had it rough. Did you know that in Lady Lucille's school up North has him for one of the punching bags in martial arts?” Abner paused. “She’s a dictator.” “You could say the same for Maximilien.” She shrugged. “I went to Lady Lucille’s school myself. I think she is a wonderful dictator.” “You do?” “Lucille has her intelligence, Maximilien has his grouchiness.” She said. “Not a drop of common sense in that round head of his. I still wonder how insane that Kokinos man was to put him in office.” Abner looked at her. “I was banished because my father accused me off almost killing a large group on construction workers.” Abner wasn’t very sure what urged him to say it. “The proper word for a man like that is imbecile, dear boy.” She smiled. “Do you care to tell me your name, young man?” Abner looked up. “I’m Abner.” He said. “And I’m Aat.” She said. “Another couple of questions, if you don’t mind, dear Abner.” “What is it?” He tilted his head. “Do you care to be my disciple?” Aat asked. “I travel in my Caravan across towns. I guess you could call me a gypsy.” Abner paused. “I don’t have anywhere else to go..” Aat chuckled. “Another thing. What is your ability, may I ask?” “I actually don’t know very much about it.” Abner said, picking his cards back up, and putting the plate down. “But I think I can conjure spells from these cards.” Aat seemed to note his confusion, not asking for specifics. “What about yours?” Abner asked curiously. Aat picked up her ponytail, making it so that Abner could see what she was showing him, and his hair stuck up. It was a snake’s maw. Two large fangs seemed to come from inside her head, and two on the lower half, only slightly smaller. “Urban Legend Control and Manifestation.” Aat said. "Today I couldn't decide between Medusa and Futakuchi-Onna." She noticed Abner's shock. "Aha, don't worry, I don't mean for scares." She turned back to him. "Are you still hungry, Abner?" Abner snapped out of his fear, nodded and smiled. "Yes, please." Aat smiled. She always wondered why the Domuians always let such happy and good-natured children go to waste. I guess that's why they have such terrible people in charge of their Dimension, she thought.
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