Grayson's Veil
Chapter 43

Grayson’s demon had pushed him out of the dream. Instead of hitting the ground and waking up, he fell deeper into the dark.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper.

It was all consuming, like the air around him. It was on his skin, tickling the little hairs. It was tangled in his hair and beard, sinking into his nails. It was in his ears, making them ring loudly. It was in his eyes, making it difficult to see. It was in his mouth and nose, the smell and taste becoming unbearable as bitter sourness filled him.

He coughed, trying to expel it. But it ended up filling him up more.

He tried touching his face, only to be met with the inability to feel.

Was he still falling?

Or did the darkness swallow him up like water?

He did not know. The only thing he knew was that he liked it.

No.

Not like.

He loved it.

Closer, closer it came. Turning every part of him into the darkness.

Closer, closer. Coursing through his veins. Like a drug.

His heart pumping it closer.

THUMP.

Closer… closer.

‘Would it be so bad if I just… let it consume me?’

THUMP.

THU-THUMP.

“Grayson.”

His ears perked up.

THU-THUMP

‘Ellie?’

The dark receded but stayed close. His one thought being the woman he loves who helps keep the darkness away.

THU-THUMP.

At least for a while.

Grayson opened his eyes.

He saw the snow that was falling rapidly and the snow on the ground. He lifted his head to see red splattered across the white ground like paint on a canvas.

Sounds of animals fighting replaced the ringing in his ears from his dark descent.

He was back. Back to the shitty side that he used to call home.

His head spun, no doubt from the hit endured earlier but he felt…different.

Oddly, he felt stronger. Powerful.

Although everything hurt.

Grunting, he pulled himself up onto his knees, keeping his head down to keep the pain at bay.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his beloved sword. The one that helped him slay through the war and the creatures he had come across. He clumsily grabbed it, wanting to kiss the hilt but decided to wait until he could lift his head.

Grayson stumbled to his feet.

He felt drunk, not the virgin blood drunk he felt not too long ago, but the whiskey drunk he had fallen in love with. It made him chuckle; he missed the feeling more than he thought he did.

Planting his feet under him in an awkward stance, he began searching for the flask he knew had some whiskey in it. He patted his body with one hand, shoving it into pockets until he came upon the smooth, cold glass.

The corner of his mouth lifted in triumph.

Swinging his head back dramatically to allow gravity to do its job with his drink, he subtly took in the scene.

Lycans were spread out, both alive and dead. Or unconscious, he was not completely sure. There was a gigantic white bear in the center of them, covered in blood.

He had no doubt it was Avice.

Flagging Avice, was a demon who could be no other than Noel. Grayson was mortified by its appearance. It looked like two lovers melted together from a fire, except they had wings and needle sharp teeth.

Grayson hid his shudder with a large gulp.

And finally, Richard was right in the middle of everything.

Richard looked cold and calculating as he watched him.

This caused an excitement to build in Grayson. Excitement for a fight. For a battle. For a full-on war.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, was the smallest bit of movement.

Grayson moved his eye to the side, making sure to not draw attention to what he was looking at.

The sight made him gulp down more whiskey.

There were shadows with eyes in the trees. They were watching them. It sent a chill up Grayson spine, making him finish off the whiskey with a preparatory inhale.

He exhaled with every tense nerve in his body, dropping his head to his chest again. Swaying his body, Grayson made a show of himself. He stumbled one way, then dragged his feet the other, letting his body catch up.

He could hear some of the Lycans laughing, pitying him for the display of instability.

It made Grayson laugh wickedly in his head.

Then, with the last bit of his silliness that was going to cause him to fall over, he looked up. He looked up so fast he heard a bone crack in his neck.

Their faces were wonderous to him, and he knew his were the picture of insanity.

He knew his eyes were wide and most likely frightening, especially since Uphir had taken the color. But his smile was wider and more frightening.

And it hurt. He could feel his cheeks stretching farther and farther, the muscles burning from lack of use. But he did not care, he was beyond caring.

He did not even feel the wings tear through the skin and muscle of his back. If anything, he felt relieved that the pressure from his back was finally soothed.

This part of him was a large crack within his Veil amongst the smaller cracks that were created by Alice, Avice, Father Charles, Sister Jane, Uphir, and his own demon.

And it felt so good.

Licking his new sharp teeth, Grayson focused on Richard.

And sprinted at him.

Grayson lifted his sword high to slice down onto the footman. Richard blocked with a transformed claw. The sword bit into his thick palm, letting fresh red blood drip down to the pummel of Grayson’s sword.

They held the position, strength against strength.

Richard rolled his eyes and sighed, terribly bored of these games. No one has beaten him in centuries, leaving bodies in his wake, walking down a path of guarding and death.

Grayson let out a grunt as Richard started pushing back.

Instead of stepping back and allowing the sword to be deflected, he punched Richard in the stomach.

Richard doubled over slightly, his eyes wide with surprise by the unexpected blow.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Grayson kneed his face, having to do a small jump to make contact.

A satisfying crunch and seeing Richard’s head snap back made Grayson snicker.

Richard silently chuckled at their fight. It was actually starting to become fun for him.

Letting his head roll to the side, Richard swung his upper body around until his mouth connected to Grayson’s neck, where he transformed his teeth into Lycan teeth and proceeded to bite down hard.

Grayson let out a small howl of pain but clenched his jaw as he planted his feet and tore away from Richard’s jaws.

The pain was excruciating, but it only made Grayson crazier.

He flew up with his new wings to give himself distance and to observe Richard.

Richard, still standing stick straight, looked only a little bit of a mess with the blood splattered on his face and down his footman suit.

Chaos was happening around them, but their focus was on each other.

The snowstorm had stopped, revealing a beautiful bright moon that shined on the freshly fallen snow and blood.

Grayson dived without thinking, ready to swing his sword and make contact with flesh.

Richard subtly widened his stance and shed his human skin on his other arm, replacing it with his Lycan claw.

They clashed together, and the true fighting began.

Slash, dodge, perry, stab, attack, attack, dodge, feint, slash, dodge, attack.

Over and over, faster, and faster until they were nothing but a blur through the snow.

Richard was delightfully surprised at Grayson’s vigor. It reminded him of the days he fought against demons and witches.

Grayson growled with frustration as he continued to push. He was not expecting Richard to be so experienced.

He would be damned if he did not defeat Richard.

A waft of a putrid smell made Grayson leap backwards out of Richards reach, and gage holding his mouth.

He knew the smell. He smelt it at Alice’s house, and before coming out into the field.

The Ghouls were here.

Richard put his arms behind his back, “I see you have finally noticed. These Ghouls are Master Eilif’s experiments. Quite good at getting rid of ants, but obviously not good enough to get rid of roaches.”

Grayson took another step back as he counted them.

Six Ghouls. Twenty-eight Lycans.

Only three of them.

“Shit,” Grayson breathed out.

Then, his sinister smile took over.

He swung his sword in his hand and went into ready stance.

“Oh fun… target practice.”

Before he could attack, he heard Avice’s human voice. “Grayson, no!” She yelled surprisingly close to him.

He was about to step forward, trying to ignore the familiar’s annoying voice, when he heard the crash of glass.

A wild swirl of green took over his view of the enemies. The air made his hair and clothes stand up. His ears could only hear the thunderous booms of whatever was happening.

It reeked of magic.

Grayson cried out his warrior cry, angry his opportunity was taken from him.

The air swirled so strongly that he and his companions were lifted off the ground, swirling with each other until they were suddenly dropped.

They thumped onto the ground, knocking their heads and the wind out of them.

Grayson’s eyes danced with stars but still tried to see beyond them.

The ground felt weird. He felt like it was trying to swallow him up.

The air was cool, but not bitter cold.

Leaning his head back, he let himself be cushioned by the odd ground and allowed the exhaustion of the fight to finally take him away.

He was angry that the fight did not end in his favor. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

But, he was also satisfied. Utterly, satisfied. Like he had worked a long day, drank some whiskey then had sex with his wife and fell asleep with her in his arms.

Eleanor. His wife. His Love.

He casted his demon and weak self out for her. So she could have a normal life, free of this horrid Veil. But now they were both twisted in this new world, him teetering on the edge of rationality. Her… He had no clue. Grayson was unsure of how she was handling it, but he had a feeling she was doing it gracefully.

He just hoped she was not giving up on him, thinking he will never bring her back.

Grasping the odd ground in his fist, he realized he was on sand.

‘What the fuck?’

He had not seen or felt sand in ages.

Grayson felt his foot being grabbed. It felt like a small, dainty hand barely wrapping around his ankle. A small grunt sounded, then he began to move. The ground moved with him, but obviously was making it difficult for the abductor.

Grayson inwardly chuckled at their effort. Instead of confronting them, he decided to wait and see where it was going.

He heard a hushed whisper, a male voice.

It was met by silence. Then the male voice again.

‘Who is he talking to?’

Grayson cracked open an eye, only to find a tiny woman dragging his body and Avice’s.

She turned and met his eyes, like she sensed him viewing her.

She wore a black hijab and a black thawb. The hijab only allowed her eyes to be seen, which were outlined in black charcoal.

She looked over to a boy next to her. He wore a white thawb, but no ghutra. His orange hair was a mess of long curls, some covering his charcoal covered eyes. In his hand he was dragging Noel, the male version. And he looked like he was struggling just as much as the woman.

Another step the woman took, Grayson suddenly felt sand brush against his taint and go up the crack of his ass. He clenched and pulled his leg back.

He looked down, then at the other two.

They were all naked. And covered in blood and wounds.

’What the hell kind of magic did Avice use?’

The woman giggled, not too prettily, and looked at the boy again.

The boy made a face that appeared to be him begging her. She shook her head and made gestures with her now free hand which ended with pointing at Grayson.

The boy sighed, then turned to Grayson.

“Welcome to the Dunes of Jynx. We’ve heard a lot about you, Grayson.”

A/N: Thank you for reading Grayson's Veil Part 1! It means a lot to me that you took the time out of your busy schedule to read it. If you want to read Part 2, please follow me for updates.

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