Chapter 18. Hilla Cure
"Alright, students. After crossing this large bridge, we will arrive at the resort in just a moment. As you can see, Hilla Cure looks beautiful. It's mostly dense woods and I must warn you to not travel in restricted areas. There are scouts; however, they're not babysitters. Your actions will be troublesome. If you are interested in tonight, please join. Our first event is a campfire."
The large bridge, once a picturesque landmark now stands weathered in rustic brown, a testament to the relentless erosion over time. Hilla Cure is determined to restore its former glory, yet financial constraints are prioritized towards sustaining the inn. Enduring the harshness of seasonal changes and years of wear, the bridge retains an antique charm, though it assumes an eerie character at night. A thorough cleaning and dedicated care are required to revive it.
Despite the bridge's minor imperfections, they do not detract from the island's inherent beauty.
Encircled by crystal-clear waters, schools of fish of indeterminate species glide together in harmonious groups. Their collective yearning to unite, dance, and frolic lends a tranquil air to the locale. Observing the wildlife existing so effortlessly signifies that Hilla Cure is indeed a paradise.
Hilla Cure's animal population is abundant and thriving. Birds fly in and out of the island. What looks to be deer stand by the water's edge to sip. Crescent eyes widened as lush green stains in multi-colors blow dead leaves into the surrounding waves.
Trees became bald, but their brightness now lay in beds of worthy pictures. The island changed into a painting; however, this painting is alive. He enjoys the scenery. The bus crosses the bridge, enters an open wooden gate, and climbs a steep hill. In the distance, the inn.
------------------------------------------------------
9 pm, the time of the campfire has begun. It's a choice to be here, Ahni decides to stay in the room and sleep. He had a long day and blamed all of his exhaustion on the recent social requirements. He met a lot of friends on the bus. Crescent decides to go. Tucked neatly on a log made for three individuals, he sits just shy of two more logs on either side of him. There are more tree stump seats in various locations and pillows on top for comfort. This little area can easily accommodate twenty to thirty people.
The warmth picks up with the chill of the wind, brushing against his frame. His only response is to tighten the thin jacket that barely keeps him protected. Quivered lips lead him to clamp his jaw as his hot breath blows to cast away the shivers.
More students come to enjoy the gathering, all placing themselves in certain spots. Friends sit side by side, chatting, and playing around with the cackling fire. Crescent doesn't mind that he sits alone. He isn't interested in being friends with those that are fake. This entire school is filled with mistrust and lies and there aren't many who are honest. Searching and hoping for honesty will do more harm to him than staying clear. Men who dabble in gaining more than anything. Mr. Riley too came down, watching the students pour in. He directs them to their seats before he does a head count. A count is mandatory with every activity. P. Jones wants to know how many students are taking the school's activities seriously. To know that he's worked some kind of magic in rearranging the toxic minds of these men feeds his pride. Some students could've snuck off and doing things that will put this entire trip in jeopardy may very well bury Nirvana's reputation.
"Is that everyone?" Mr. Riley sets out to make sure he isn't expecting unexpected guests.
"No. One more is coming."
A serene voice to Crescent's left suddenly breaks the silence, causing him to jerk his head around to see who has taken a seat beside him on the log. Unaware of the newcomer's arrival, he had been too absorbed in his thoughts to observe his surroundings. The unexpected sound in his ear sends a shiver through him, prompting a quick intake of breath and a sharp increase in his heartbeat before he coughs out the breath he's taken. The reflection of a redhead clicking his tongue and waving at him appears in his glasses, yet Crescent's face remains rigid and uninviting. Trying to act as if he's the master of charm does nothing but stir some unwanted bitterness in Crescent's heart.
The awkwardness between himself and Kisha died down on the bus, but with Saikai, it's still there. Crescent turns his head back to the fire, acting as if he doesn't see anyone. The thought of having Saikai so close to him only bothers him in ways that he can ruin this campfire for everyone. He hates it when people have the audacity after doing something so disgusting. If not now or later, but one day Crescent plans to have Saikai bowing beneath him. Only then can he press his revenge until he's satisfied.
'Don't ever act like nothing happened, fucker.'
Nonchalantly brushing off the other night, Saikai only pisses him off with that welcoming ugly smile. He was drugged and sexually assaulted as if it was a normal thing, glorified by Saikai and everyone has to accept what was given. If Kisha had never come, how would that have played out? Would Saikai have gone further? He seemed more turned on than Crescent did at that time. Knowing that Saikai is this dangerous, hiding behind such a facade, makes Crescent want to shatter him in the worst way possible. They had both consumed the chocolate. Planning on never being alone with Saikai again unless it's with someone he can trust.
The flames become Crescent's source of comfort, body doubles over to capture more warmth. The only thing good about this experience. Crescent watches as Mr. Riley decides to eat roasted marshmallows, capturing the true essence of a campfire. He digs into a duffle bag before pulling out some sticks and multiple bags of marshmallows. Passing each object around to the students, the orchestrated pass soon lands in Crescent's hands.
He grabs a few sticks and places a handful of marshmallows in his lap tucked above his jacket. Sweets are something Crescent enjoys. He feels happiest and he will often get them for Ahni who too finds his palette to favor them. Crescent extends one into the fire, the marshmallow instantly developing singe excites him. He's never had them in this form. Anything normal society experiences isn't the same for Crescent. He's seen a lot and then none. The little things amaze him. Marshmallows are a delicacy on the streets. Eating more greasy, and unhealthy foods packed with carbs and calories was favored just in case they didn't get to eat for a while after.
The entire area begins to smell of burning sugar and a lovely feeling engulfs him.
Peacefulness, as the students, chat and laugh to their heart's content. This is something he can get used to. Often moments when the homeless would get together, he and Ahni would be right there. The picture resembles a large family. Though he hates his family, something inside of him still yearns for it.
What are these feelings now? He's been experiencing so many new desires since meeting Kisha. Wanting to incorporate him into their small family. He's yet to tell him, but all this time, Crescent finds his curiosity venturing toward possible outcomes. The ride on the bus only confirms how naive he has been. His guard is low whenever Kisha comes around.
It's a well-worthy break from the horror at the academy. The darkness he's being drawn into. He knows he's strong, but how strong can he continue to be? When will Ahni be pulled into this? Can he protect him?
Can he leverage Kisha's loyalty? Understanding Saikai's actions towards him, how is it possible for him to forgive and reveal everything? The Phantom is correct; the next move is his. He faces two paths: to persist or to fail disastrously. He desires victory, yet the price remains unknown. Crescent gazes at the marshmallow, his gaze piercing through it and into the flames that consume it. He identifies with this sensation, as the encroaching heat at his legs feels like a trap, leaving him with no escape and no one to aid him.
"It's burnt." A mellow deep voice snaps him from his thoughts, Crescent lost in gaze turns to face Kisha who like Saikai snuck up on him. Lit up by the flames, a light dance over Kisha's skin makes him glow red, his eyes even reflecting a different shade as they're narrowed by the glow of the intense fire. They lock eyes for a moment, Kisha is more concerned about the way Crescent looks than being in the moment.
With his hair now changed from the flames' touch of red, yellow, and orange, he looks to be lost as well in the dance of elements. Weird to see such distinct colors changing the surface of someone as cold as ice.
"It's not." Crescent retorts, pulling the marshmallow from the fire and to his lips, but Kisha's warning tells him to look before eating it. Of course, it wasn't the little birdy in his head. His crossed eyes scan over the blackened cube widening. How long did he cook it? It's only a few seconds, right?
"It's just... You're right, whatever. I dare you to eat it though." Crescent smirks playfully.
"I don't want that," Kisha calls back disgusted.
Crescent smiles at his response, thinking about shoving the burnt marshmallow into Kisha's mouth the next time he opens it. Flicking it to the dirt, Crescent puts another one on the stick, this time keeping a watchful eye on the marshmallow. He burns it just right on one side as the other swells from the heat. Bringing it up to his lips, a quick deep inhale of its sweetness melts his insides.
"You got a stick?" Crescent asks, looking to his side, but what he sees makes his smile relax into a dead expression. Kisha's intensely staring straight at his lips.
The same kind of stare animals do when they watch their humans eat food. Crescent envisioned a drooling large mutt, lost, begging for table scraps.
"Kisha... You... ok?" Crescent raises an eyebrow, frowning his lips.
"Stick it in," Kisha whispers a mindless way of words.
"What?" Crescent parts his lips, popping the marshmallow before clamping down on it like a starving child. With his tongue, he pushes it to one cheek, chewing. He watches as Kisha's expression finally slightly changes. His brows shift downward, and his mouth hangs open a tad bit, the top of his teeth peering through.
"What the fuck? That's rude, asshole. Staring at someone like something is wrong with you. Don't you have any manners... at all?"
"Looks good," Kisha speaks again in trance.
"I could tell. You look like a starved mutt." Crescent's becoming annoyed. Someone attentively watching him eat something so small is getting on his nerves. It's Kisha's eyes that never leave a certain part of his body that irks him the most.
"Mm~" Is the only reply he receives.
Crescent retrieves a marshmallow from his jacket. To have the bag being passed around and hands all digging into it isn't his idea of cleanliness. These were all men and many of them didn't believe in washing their hands when they went to the bathroom. He's seen it personally.
He pops one into the fire, counting to ten before he pulls the object back. It's a flaming ball he gives a little blow to put out. Drawing the stick up to Kisha's lips he ushers him to open his mouth, and the hot sugar presses and sticks to Kisha's lips.
"I don't want that." As Kisha speaks, Crescent jabs the stick slightly, feeling the stick tap at Kisha's front teeth, but Kisha turns his gaze as well as his head to avoid the grotesque object. Tongue coming through to shove the nasty taste from his mouth, he threatens to spit, but he instead swallows what little traces it leaves trying to avoid taking offense.
Crescent starts to laugh, "Then goddammit, what do you want dude?"
Crescent brings the object to his mouth instead, frustrated by Kisha's actions. As he parts his lips he watches as Kisha's gaze returns to his mouth. The anticipation written at his gaze gives Crescent enough information.
Slowly Crescent presses the marshmallow into his mouth, making sure to meet it with an extended wet tongue, first licking the damp part that remains of Kisha's saliva. He releases a heavy breath, cupping the ball of sweetness, using his tongue to wrap and pull it from the stick. The melted inside creates a sticky white path, dripping down to his chin. It's warm and he waits to wipe it away. Slowly, his upper lip comes clamping down on only half the marshmallow, and then his now-coated tongue licks up the rest that dripped, a slight slurp isn't needed, but Crescent chooses to give Kisha a show.
His tongue then pops from its chamber once again to lick the half-eaten marshmallow. He trails it slowly, releasing another breath.
"Good job." He whispers, looking away. Kisha, who has become lost in how erotic Crescent consumed it, clears his throat.
Crescent smiles mentally. Asshole and you're obvious. Without a word, he pushes the rest into his mouth, chewing. Deflating Kisha is so satisfying.
It's clear Kisha's a closet pervert. These types of people are obvious with their actions, and their words subliminal.
From a small walking path in the distance, a lady dressed in the attire of the resort approaches. The men all turn to give her their undivided attention. When Kisha perks up to notice her, so does Crescent, popping an uncooked marshmallow into his mouth, his cheeks ballooning and it's hard to maneuver his tongue, but he's happy.
She's a little chubby but her soft features and short curled hair make her beautiful and youthful. Her skin is like Crescent's in color, and her makeup is done lightly to not shadow her natural look.
She stands before the gang, a persona of shyness breaking the air. Her hands clasped in front of her she speaks in a soft voice, standing as close as possible to the fire.
"Welcome, gentlemen. You've come to Hilla Cure. I hope you enjoy your stay. We are happy to accommodate your needs. Any issue and let me or the front desk know."
Crescent watches as the woman gives them all a small smile, looking at each individual.
"My name? Cyrus. I'm one of the longest workers here. During these campfires, we guide you through Hilla Cure's history and the secrets of our island. We hope that you'll love it as much as we do. If you have any questions before I begin, let me know."
She pauses, but no one asks. Her pleasant pronunciation. It's been a long time since Crescent got to see the opposite sex in their feminine essence. A few female teachers and the nurse are nothing like women outside of their school. Everyone at Nirvana Academy has a job to fulfill. This lady seems more relaxed and loving of her job. He can listen to her voice all day.
"Hilla Cure was built 100 years ago after an earthquake separated the island from the mainland. We built that bridge, the only way in and out. Hilla Cure is surrounded by its trapped animal population. They come and get stuck here, especially the land ones. Founded by a woman named Victoria Aston, she died a few years ago and left Hilla Cure in the hands of her granddaughter. She is buried on this island. Do not disturb her if you come across her grave. Our resort is paradise but recently due to the rumors of our past and the shakiness of one certain animal, we have lost tourism. We hope you can help us here. Bring your Nirvana to ours as you stay here these next couple of days. Any questions?"
Saikai raises a hand, and the woman extends a nod, allowing his question.
"So, you've lost tourism. What do you mean by rumors?"
She smiles, unable to contain her thoughts.
"Well, you guys didn't read our history? Since the island's separation, we have developed an unprecedented amount of one particular species. You may hear them howl at night and they scamper around the inns looking for delicious goods. They stay clear from us, but we feed them to make sure they aren't aggressive. They are free to hunt on their own. They come in packs and have flourished here. Hunters have found them in the wild, but here at Hilla Cure, we do not allow that destruction as they are protected by state law. Like to take a guess?"
One man doesn't hesitate, calling out the word cat, before the crowd burst into laughter. Crescent too chuckles. A howling cat? He's amazed at how stupid some of these students are. Did they grow up under a rock? There's only one type of animal that howls and it didn't purr.
"Wolves," Saikai answers casually causing the woman to nod again.
"Yes, wolves. They are one of God's greatest creations. Not like man's best friend, but they are just as lovely. The reason for our suffering is because of some old tales revolving around them. Have you ever heard of Anthropomorphism? It's a term that came into the dictionary only a few years ago. An animal takes the shape of a human being. We're used to humans taking the shapes of animals in stories but this is the opposite."
Crescent looks away from her. Humans taking the shape of animals? Is that even possible?
"Many years ago, it developed when Indigenous people who worshipped wolves began to notice that those animals were dying off. After settlers came onto the land, the wolves' territories were depleted. They encountered each other too often which led to death. People who were afraid of their power began to kill them, sell them, and eat them." A small raise of her hand pushes her hair behind her ears.
Crescent knows the horrors of the past, but he's ignorant of having empathy for it. It was wrong of anyone to come and kill something already here so those who caused destruction need to be punished. Crescent looks over at Kisha curiously. Did Kisha's people suffer the same fate? He wants to know, but he's hesitant to ask seeing as how immersed in her words Kisha is. Will Kisha let him in?
"The wolves became desperate and approached the Indians cautiously, knowing that they weren't going to be hurt. Yet, they did not speak in their native tongue. The wolves found refuge in Indian camps and fought alongside them against the settlers. That's when a group of wolves stumbled on a tribe that had a powerful witch. Her name is a curse upon the lips. Though many tribes did not approve of her existence, only one family accepted her because of her abilities. She decided to play God and intertwine their DNA."
The woman tucks her arms beneath her breast, bouncing forward on her feet. As the fire contorts her shadows and she glows, her eyes begin to take in the stares of the men. Horrified, curious. Their gazing mimics deer lost in headlights until her expression meets the cold unfaltering fixated look of Kisha who sticks out the most.
Broad arms securely tucked in front of him, he sits straight up. His eyes hold her without a blink as pupils dilate. Kisha's uneasy, his fists balling up slightly trying to measure the things she's saying before she says them. The family that lived with the witch, the family that was condemned, feared, and respected all had one name in common, Locklear.
Looking away from Kisha, she continues with her story. She has seen this leer before.
"A wolf that could blend beneath humanity. Are they real? The rumors followed television and the media began to cover some scientific evidence of it being true within the last five years. For this, Hilla Cure's wolf protection isn't something that the public wants. Knowing that we could be harboring a creature that scares the holy hell out of humans, we've lost our battle financially. A place where children used to frolic and learn about our species has become a place condemned by the public who are ignorant."
A male off in the crowd burst out laughing, finding fault in her story.
"So you're telling me. Shit like that exist nowadays? Some old-ass powerful broad could so easily change our world like she's god? Animals and humans do not mix in DNA, period. If that's the case, I'll fuck a kangaroo and make children and then sell them cause I can. Superstitious bullshit."
The woman shakes her head in denial, but Mr. Riley steps in, hushing the male.
"You said these were rumors right? They could very much be false." Mr. Riley speaks up.
"Yes. The locals now believe we are an island of bad omen. They want the wolves dead as the media portrayed them to be worth loads of money. They say the wolf-human hybrids can live for hundreds of years, and their aging is quite different from normal beings. They have animal characteristics and though they hide in plain sight, they still can't hide completely. They'll soon take over the world if not contained is what some believe. Others believe they're weapons with abilities key to saving humanity and some say they're gods. We offer books on the witch doctor and some insight into the legends on our website for a small fee."
Crescent looks down at his fiddling hands. The last bit of her story sticks to him and he can do nothing, but notice her words. Just as he comes to this island looking for a getaway, he feels he has hit another bump in the road. Everything thus far starts to make sense.
Wolves with the ability to change into humans because of some Indians and a witch. A shudder fills his body. His mind suddenly flashes to a familiar image on the table in Saikai's and Kisha's room. The gape of that wolf.
Crescent's attention wanders to his left hesitantly as everything in his body tells him to look, his lips parting in shock. There's no one more animal he has ever met than...
Looking directly at him, Kisha locks on the concerned look beneath the fire-reflected glasses, and Crescent's warmth shatters to an icy cold. All of the things he's learned about Kisha, all of the things he's felt, it all makes sense. Rumors are not just rumors when everything begins to add up.
That night he felt hands creep at his skin with just a gaze. It was inhuman. The way when they first met, those eyes made him feel like he was prey, looking through him. He couldn't escape, he wanted to, but they engulfed him. Kisha's gaze has been evolving ever since, but it never strayed to resemble the soul of a human. Recently he began to take on a famished look.
Everything in his mind screams for Crescent to speak, but his jaw clamps shut due to not knowing what to say. Anthropomorphism rings out. With the awkward energy boiling between them, Crescent feels staring is a grave mistake. Just leave it alone! Turn away and act like he didn't hear the story. He wants to, but he's nauseous and too self-conscious.
"Shows over boys! Don't forget your donations."
Saikai calls from behind Kisha, who breaks their stare. He taps his friend on the shoulder, whispering something before he knocks his head over and begins walking away from them.
Kisha stands up as well, ready to leave but a warm, shaking grab suddenly stops him at the wrist.
"Do you believe... that?" Crescent's thoughts are unstable, gazes all around Kisha for answers. He wants him to deny it. Tell him it isn't true. Things like that aren't possible in the modern world. It has to be some fairy tale. Wolves running around as humans. A witch? The only god he knows most is one the Christians worship. The one his aunt spoke to every night.
"You do."
Kisha spits back weakly, jerking his arm from Crescent as he walks away with Saikai in tow. A glance from the redhead and the two left the campfire behind. Crescent's heart halted. The way Kish uttered those words sounded unsure, and the whispered manner of Kisha's usual tone broken.
For the first time, Kisha seemed afraid; crushed composure.
Crescent brings up his hand to cup at the center of his chest. Though he's terrified of it all, why is he feeling something else? It's as if he's hurt someone important to him. Those times when he made Ahni cry unintentionally, hurt and now he has hurt Kisha.
The soft sounds of feet against rock fill his ears and his mind goes blank when a figure blocks the light in front of him. He wants to get up and chase after the two, but the adrenaline in his limbs locks him in place. The woman who had just told the story is now kneeling. Her movements are fluent, the knocking of hair from her cheeks and her hands placed neatly at her knees.
Her shoes dig into the dirt from her weight with her balance as if she had done this effortlessly before. Crescent looks her over in shock, tilting his head to try and understand what she's doing here.
"You alright?" She's hesitant to ask after witnessing such a commotion, but the concern in her eyes leaves her spilled emotions.
"That friend of yours. Could you tell me about him?"
((A/N
Crescent expression accuses Kisha without words and the defensive Kisha only hates the judgemental eyes. Is it enough to tear them?
But... Is it really Crescent's fault or are those ice-blue eyes... to blame?
Don't be afraid to tell me what you think by commenting.❤️❤️
Drop a vote if you like. 👍👍))
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top