Tilting her head in the direction of the window, Bray said, “Well, open the window then—and I’ll fly back to my tree.”
“What tree?” Wes didn’t even follow the direction in which she was looking. How could one human have such an appalling lack of manners?
“The only tree in the backyard.” She motioned at the one window in the room again, in case he still didn’t understand. He still didn’t look. “What other tree do you think I’m talking about?”
“There are trees right next door on either side of the house.”
“Whatever.” Wes knew which tree she had been talking about. He was trying to make things difficult.
“She can’t go back out there—she’ll get cold,” Luca said while pretending to shiver, and Bray found it hard to hold back a smile.
Wes rolled his eyes and rubbed at his temples. “It’s seventy degrees outside, Luca.”
“Exactly.” Luca gave Wes a pointed look.
“I’m fine. I’ve been sleeping out there for a whole year.” Bray and Brenik would sleep inside the house most of the time with Ruth, but they had also slept out in the tree sometimes because they’d loved listening to all the night sounds that reminded them of Laith.
“Where did you sleep before?” Wes asked, bewildered.
“In here. The tree was just a place where we could relax. We would sleep and stay inside this house most of the time.”
“We?” Wes’s puzzled expression became even more confused.
“My brother and I.” At that moment, Bray wished Brenik was there to help her explain things.
“There’s more of you?” Wes hurried to the window, squinted his eyes and looked in the direction of the peach tree that was now camouflaged by the darkness.
“Only the two of us,” Bray assured him. “The rest are in Laith—or were.” Bray had no idea if any bats were left—she had never seen any others besides Brenik and her mother.
Bray gazed at the ceiling and told them the story of how she and Brenik escaped their world and came to Earth. How a wonderful woman named Ruth took them in and taught her and Brenik so much—until she passed away.
“See, Wes,” Luca started, “this house really must belong to her, then. We can’t let her go back to sleeping outside.”
“Um—yes, we can,” Wes answered without pause.
“No, we can’t!” Luca argued.
“I am fine, really,” Bray said. She had been fine for a while, if not a little lonely.
Wes took a few steps toward her. “Look, Bray…”
“Brayora,” she muttered.
“Right. Since Luca is set on you staying here for the night, and I’m still not sure if this is even real—you can, but you can’t sleep in here with him.”
“Why, because she’s twenty?” Luca asked.
“You’re twenty?” Wes just could not get rid of that confused expression.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Okay, then two reasons: you’re twenty and you have wings.” Bray and Luca didn’t say anything. “For tonight, you’re going to have to sleep in my room because I still don’t trust you. Nothing against you per say—I wouldn’t trust a dog the first night either.”
Bray wanted to say that she wasn’t anything like a dog, but kept her mouth shut. She shrugged and told Luca good night, then darted off to the master bedroom, where she crashed at the edge of the bed.
She could have gone outside for the night, but the feeling of being inside the house once again brought back the good nostalgic moments of the past. Bray hadn’t thought she needed to feel it again, but she did.
Wes and Luca’s hushed voices echoed through the wall, but she couldn’t understand what was being said. Moments later, Wes entered the room wearing a white shirt and a pair of plaid boxers that she hadn’t paid attention to earlier. Bray turned her head away from him, still angry that he inferred she had rabies.
Bray knew exactly what rabies were—Ruth watched the movie Cujo a lot—and she did not have that. Maybe she should just leave, but she had already taken to Luca, and it would be nice to have another friend—even if she had to get along with Wes.
He closed the door and flicked off the light. “Look, I’m sorry I said you had rabies. It’s just I don’t know you, and this whole situation is extremely out there. Like a whole other world out there.”
Pursing her lips, Bray pulled at the edge of her braid in the dark. “It’s okay.” She understood that most humans would have acted worse than Wes had—maybe.
“Please don’t bite me, though.”
Right when she thought he might be okay. Frowning, she said as patiently as she could, “I don’t drink blood.”
“That’s a good thing.” Pulling back the covers, he slipped his legs underneath, and the mattress dipped beneath Bray. The AC blew hard directly on top of her, and she shivered against its coldness, causing a small sound to rumble out from her mouth.
Laborious breaths were already escaping Wes’s lips, so she snuck up to his shoulder while he slept. Bray did not care that she wasn’t sure if she liked him—she curled up against the warmth of his neck anyway, and the heat helped her fall fast asleep.
5
Brenik
Present Day, 1995
Leaving the tree—their home—Brenik flew away from it—and her. He left Bray a drawing on a scrap of paper like he always did, because no matter what, she was still his family.
The thoughts, the images, this place, Brenik couldn’t bring himself to fathom how he had gotten to this point over the years. His head was a place he could not escape—an internal battle with no end. It wasn’t her—it was never her—it was always him. Brenik got that, but it didn’t stop it. Nothing did.
Brenik soared higher and higher through the air as the wind scuffed against his wings. Instead of giving him contentment, it only reminded him of what he was—what he didn’t want to be: a minuscule pathetic specimen of existence.
It didn’t take him long to reach his destination. The large stone shaped like a rose reflected and highlighted almost a pure white coloring underneath the rays shooting out from between the bloated clouds.
What would make today different from all the other times he had gone there, begged and pleaded to a piece of rock who wouldn’t listen to take him back—to end his suffering? Again, pathetic.
Brenik landed between the folds of the Stone, remembering how ten years ago he didn’t think anything could get worse, but it had.
“Can you hear me?” he asked the Stone of Desire who was either asleep or just didn’t give a fuck—the Stone didn’t stir. Brenik knew it heard him—it always did.
Slamming his hand against the grained particles, Brenik yelled, “Please, send me home or give me a gift like Brayora’s. This is not fair, and you know it.”
The first time he had come back was after Ruth died. She may not have been able to provide everything he yearned for, but she had given him attention and what almost amounted to favoritism—the opposite of Junah. Don’t get him wrong, she loved Bray, too, but he didn’t have to compete as hard. Bray never had to be the best at anything, but he did—and it always made him feel inadequate.
“Do you want me to get on my fucking knees and beg? Because I will.” Brenik’s dark hair swung forward as he fell to his knees, placing his forearms against the Stone. With a frustrated sigh, he finally let his head strike the hard exterior, and he groaned from the slight ache.
Closing his eyes tightly, tears snuck their way out and rained down in between the folds of the Stone. He had only cried a couple of times in his life, and he couldn’t control it now. Barely able to contain himself, Brenik flipped his head to the side, plummeting into a spell of depression as his chest rose and fell inconsistently.
Ruth had already been decaying when Brenik arrived to Earth, and he couldn’t—he wouldn’t—watch himself wither away like that. He was too obsessed by his own beauty and never able to do anything of use with it.
“Please…” he pleaded one
more time, rubbing his hand softly against the uneven texture.
The thunder of emotions spewing out from inside him came to a halt when a shuffling movement caused his body to tremble. But then nothing happened. It was as if it were all in his imagination, until the Stone ruptured, rising from the ground like a volcano, sprouting the alabaster arms and legs. Brenik leaped back as the head shot forward—exactly the same as before: no mouth or nose, only those eyes that could see all. It was as if no time had passed at all.
“What do you desire most?” the loud voice bounced around inside Brenik’s head, rough and laced with fury.
An urge of desperation and sadness lingered, but he wasn’t afraid. Brenik rose to full height and rubbed the wetness from his face as the bald head of the Stone edged closer. “I want to go home or have the same gift as Brayora.”
Cocking its head to the side, the Stone’s black eyes bored into Brenik’s, but he couldn’t tell what the creature was thinking. “That is impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible,” Brenik countered, stepping closer to the face that made his life pure hell.
“The paths to crossover worlds will not occur again until one final time which is already set. A special man will open those doors,” the voice boomed.
Brenik slapped his hand against his leg in frustration. He didn’t have time to hear about people who were special. There was already enough of that with his sister. “Then give me the same gift you gave to Brayora—I deserve it.”
“You deserve nothing. Your access was granted.”
“We didn’t even know where we were going!”
“Alive is better than dead,” it answered, voice harsh and almost dangerous.
“I would have to disagree at this point—a twenty-year-old bat hiding in a tree for a year straight is wretched. I would rather be dead than to continue living like this.”
The Stone of Desire slowly lifted its head before cocking it to the other side, eyes seemed to narrow even without eyelids moving. “There is one other option.”
“I will take it.” Brenik would accept any option at this point in his life.
“You do not know the consequences of your choices,” it warned.
“What are they, then?”
“Your heart tells me you want to stay young forever, yet also become human. That is an impossible creation. You can appear human but never be one. With this choice, a hunger will stir inside you after every so many turns of the earth. You will have to feed it to keep up with your desire, otherwise, you will wither and fade. But the cravings will darken your soul—your heart—more than the envy already has. It will all be insatiable—do you accept this?”
The Stone was wrong—he could control anything.
Falling to his knees, Brenik clasped his hands tightly together. “Appearing human is all I need—I accept this glorious offer you have provided, and I am willing to do what has to be done to maintain it.” Brenik didn’t really think about his decision. He only knew he wanted it.
“Your choice… Regrets are unacceptable, and a reversal of your decision is impossible because your desire today overpowers any future wishes.” Brenik was fine with that, more than fine.
Slowly, he nodded as the Stone’s arm crawled forward. Lifting its hand up over Brenik’s entire body, the Stone moved downward, and a shadow that appeared to be crushing Brenik enveloped him completely. The darkness surrounded him for several long seconds, but then the Stone’s hand ascended, allowing light to pour in.
Brenik glanced over his shoulder, where he could still see the obsidian wings attached to his back—even his height remained the same. “Nothing is hap—”
He was interrupted when an unimaginable pain pulsed through his veins, tearing against nerves, muscle, and bones. Crack, crack, crack—breaking and popping sounds were heard as joints were ripped and moved to new positions.
A raw scream escaped Brenik when he felt a hard tear at his back where his wings attached, as if they were being shredded. He watched a lone wing fall to the grass, followed by his other one. There, they both darkened to dirt that disintegrated and faded into the ground.
His entire body groaned as each limb expanded and lengthened, torso and spine stretched to incredible height. The pain decreased when Brenik became the size of a human—almost human.
Flexing his fingers, Brenik smiled down at his new body in relief, fascination, and perfection as the spasms dissipated. “Thank you.” He looked up toward the Stone, its face unreadable more than ever.
“Do not thank me. This is your curse to bear, but remember … you chose it.” The Stone’s hand pulled back underneath its chest, and then slithered closer to where Brenik was hunched over. Its hand fisted something inside—finger by finger the extremities uncurled to reveal a rectangular white square, a blank painting canvas.
“What is it?” Brenik asked as he took a step closer to the enlarged hand.
“It is yours to maintain. Blood. When the time comes, the last drop of blood from a human will need to be added for you to stay as you are. Otherwise you will age and die like everyone around you, but what grows inside you now will make that near impossible.”
To age and die was a route Brenik would not take—he chose to reach for the canvas. As soon as his fingers brushed the object, a picture took form on the texture—a face—his face. Straight black hair brushed his shoulders, blue eyes stood out against ivory skin, and a well-built torso wore a black collared shirt. A silver-gray background brought him to life within the portrait.
Brenik looked down at himself, his clothing now matching that of the portrait—or at least the top portion. The bottom half of himself, not displayed in the painting, was barefoot and wearing gray slacks.
A sudden fire sparked in his body from the inside out. Brenik dropped to the ground, instinctively releasing the canvas. Pain expanded in his head, and he pushed his palms against the sides to try and push the flames away. The hunger, the thirst, the yearning … his already sharp canine teeth slid down into points—he needed it.
As if it was a natural occurrence, Brenik bit down on the weak spot between his thumb and forefinger, letting crimson rise to the surface. Swiping the blood with the index finger of his other hand, he brought himself closer to the portrait on the ground and pushed the red liquid onto his face in the painting.
The canvas rapidly absorbed the blood, the pain Brenik felt already washing away.
“That is only the start,” the Stone whispered, and while it sounded melancholic, there was no misery in Brenik.
Gradually, Brenik reached out for the painting, prepared for pain to accompany his touch, but it didn’t. A devious smile crossed his face as the Stone of Desire drew back into its natural rose-shaped form without another word.
Brenik would not take anything for granted any longer—he would do as he wished.
Walking was a much slower way to travel compared to flying, but Brenik soaked up each step he took through the forest. He would not go back home yet—not to Bray—not to that fucking tree. There wouldn’t be a way for him to shrink down to fit back inside of the trunk anyway.
Just the day before, Bray had asked him, “You will always be here for me, right? I miss Ruth so much. I don’t know if I made a mistake bringing us here, but if we hadn’t come, we would either be dead or running all the time.”
He had wanted to tell her that hiding in a tree wasn’t any better, but instead, he told her what was most likely true, “You did the best you could. I will always be here for you just as you will always be here for me.” Brenik had squeezed his sister’s hand and drew her the note the next morning before he left.
Feeling sorry wasn’t something he needed to do anymore—he had to focus on himself. His heart felt free, as if all the chains had been released—the two that were no longer connected to his back was the greatest relief of all. His wings had been a heavy burden that he did not have to deal with anymore, along with his tiny size. He would eventually return to show his new self to Bray, but
that could wait.
Contemplating, he finally decided where to go. There were small cabins on the other side of the forest where humans lived year-round, but others only came for summer or holidays. He just so happened to know which ones would be empty.
6
Bray
Bray awoke to a feeling of comfort. But when she remembered falling asleep on Wes’s warm shoulder the night before, her eyes flicked open. No shoulder in sight. Instead, she was nestled in a blanket that was pulled all the way up to her chin, cocooning her in place—same bed, same bedroom, except Wes was gone.
Suppressing a yawn, Bray tossed off the heavy blanket and zoomed out the open door. She found Luca sitting at the small kitchen table, immersed in reading something while scooping cereal into his mouth—or just milk.
“Are you going to eat the cereal with that milk?”
Luca lifted his head from what appeared to be the morning newspaper.
The little beast is something else, she thought.
“After I drink the milk, then I’ll start on the cereal portion.” He smiled. “It’s not soggy enough yet.”
Bray landed on the table and walked closer to inspect the circle shapes swirling around in the bowl. “It looks extremely mushy to me.”
“Nah, it still has a good five-minute wait.” Luca brought another spoonful of milk to his open mouth, giving it a loud slurp.
Something looked different about him today as her eyes roamed his face. “Ah-ha!” She examined his hair and took a step closer. “You parted your hair differently today.” His bowl hair was parted on the left side with a lock of it hovering a little past his brow, instead of creased down the middle.
Tossing his head back, Luca gave Bray a big grin. “Yeah, one of the girls at school said it would look cuter parted on the side—you know, like that kid from Terminator 2 and Pet Semetary 2?”
Clouded by Envy Page 4
