Page 15 of Humans Don’t Have Horns (A Crown of Blood and Magic #1)
The demichad stands solitary in the middle of the road.
It is more horrific than the drawings I’ve seen, and it reeks of death and decay.
It has the body of a man. Or at least, the body of a skinless man.
Its flesh is raw, and all its muscles are visible.
There are hundreds of earthworms traveling on it and inside it, yet it seems unbothered.
Long claws extend from its fingers. The head is very inhuman.
It has two little eyes that look like black beads, and the rest of its face is a huge mouth full of sharp teeth.
It looks directly at me, only at me. In their despair, the guards draw their swords, a useless thing to do.
Running is also useless. That is, if the stories of the demichads are true.
They are the strongest and fastest predators in all of Amada.
They attack in a great mass, thousands of them at once, and devour complete villages in several minutes.
But here stands only one of them. Is it alone?
Is it the last one of its kind, saved somehow from the great Aldonian crusade?
The demichad’s tiny eyes are fixed on me still. “Hello,” I say in a shaky voice because I have no better idea. But when I speak, I feel a strange, delicate vibration in my body, like there are dozens of butterflies flying outside me.
“What are you doing?” Siean whisper-shouts at me through ground teeth. “We must run.” But running is pointless. This is what killed the Aldonian soldiers we just saw. It devoured them.
The demichad tilts its head at me curiously.
Its mouth is not moving, yet there is a vibration in its body, and I can feel its ripples inside me.
“You speak our language. Prey doesn’t speak our language,” it responds, sounding puzzled.
I can feel Siean and the guards staring at me in astonishment.
I tell myself to keep talking. I don’t know what good it will do.
I don’t understand how I can communicate with this ghastly creature.
First the direwolves, and now this. Is the Nimatek responsible for this?
I don’t have the first clue about this bizarre situation.
“I guess it means I’m not prey.” I try to sound steady, the opposite of the dread I feel. My body vibrates again as I speak. The demichad keeps staring at me as if contemplating my words. “Weren’t you made extinct a hundred years ago?”
“How can prey make the predator extinct? You are so weak and fragile. We were merely asleep in our burrows. We ate, we bred, and we slept. We ate a lot of prey. We were full. We bred and fell asleep. Now it is time to eat again. Soon they all will wake up,” it tells me.
Cold sweat covers my body as the meaning of its words hits me.
Aldon didn’t win. It was a lie. They made everyone believe they had saved Amada, but the demichads just had enough to eat.
And now they are returning. If no one managed to defeat them, Sun and the Goddess, neither can help us if they are back.
“How many will wake up?” I ask, trying to buy us time. To what end, I can’t say.
“Many. There was a lot of breeding after the last meal.” Many? More than before? But that means more will die this time.
“When will they wake up?” I ask.
“Enough talking. I am hungry.” Its head is not tilted anymore. Its body gains alertness that wasn’t there before .
“You can’t eat us.” I can feel its patience running out. “You said it yourself. Prey doesn’t speak your language, and therefore I am not prey.”
It seems to contemplate my words. Its head is tilted once again. “True.” It vibrates its answer, “But they don’t speak our language,” it says, nodding at Siean and the guards. “They are prey. Now I eat.” And without another word, it leaps at one of the soldiers at an unnatural speed.
I throw myself over Siean and drop her to the ground.
I lie on top of her, covering her as best I can.
At first, I hear their screams. Splashes of their blood hit me as the demichad punctures their main arteries.
Then the screams stop, and there is only the sound of the demichad chewing, of it tearing their flesh.
All the while, the horses are frantically screaming, kicking at the ground as they try to flee. But the guards have secured them to a big tree, and their efforts are fruitless. When the demichad finishes eating the guards, it turns to the horses and preys on all four of them.
I’m too frightened to move. I barely breathe, my face pressed to Siean, and I don’t dare to raise it.
I feel Siean trembling under my body in fear.
When the demichad finishes its feast, it disappears into the ground.
It said it lives in burrows. They were underground all these years. Sleeping. And now they are awake.
Siean and I are alone amid body parts, covered in blood and gore. The silence is so complete I can hear only my heartbeat. All life fled from here. No birds sing. No insects hum. I am drenched in blood. My face, hand, hair, dress. All are red. If I don’t wash it off, I will lose my sanity.
I stand up and watch Siean. She is less bloodied than I am because I sheltered her with my body.
She remains in a fetal position on the ground and whimpers quietly.
I think she’s in a state of shock. I put my hand on her back.
The demichad choosing to spare us is a miracle I can’t understand.
But there is no time to dwell on it or let the terror of what happened set in.
We are already in Aldon. The demichad can come back, or Aldonian soldiers can find us.
“Look at me, Siean. Look into my eyes, breathe,” I say to her .
She complies, her eyes watery and her face stricken with terror. I take a couple of deep breaths, and she mimics me. Slowly she relaxes and takes several deep breaths.
But then she lets out a piercing scream. Her eyes are focused on something behind me. Did the demichad return?