Friday the 13th - October Vignette

[The Crooked Knight]

Sketch had run out of Nevin’s sleep aid days ago, and he was feeling the strain of sleep debt he was accruing. Traveling away from Stonevale was always a gamble for Sketch, as his friend was the only source of the drug he had. When he couldn’t get his hands on the potion, which put him to sleep so quickly that he didn’t dream, he had terrible nightmares where the forces of the Grym invaded and tormented him. Something about Sketch drew the Grym to him, it gave him the ability to summon and command them, but also made him an unwilling magnet for them in their natural state.

Sketch hated sleeping without Nevin’s tonic, he’d had to spend years getting bits of sleep between being tormented by the monsterous little blighters. He’d been avoiding sleep ever since he’d run out of the medicine, and he could feel the toll taking it’s due on him. He’d been traveling between villages, looking for information of the Grym, and days of walking were exhausting.

Sketch was starting to get sweaty and anxious from the lack of sleep, it was all he could do to keep walking forward through the woods. The sun was setting and it looked like Sketch was going to be walking all night again, the next village wasn’t for miles, and Sketch didn’t want to stop or he’d risk falling asleep. He stopped briefly to light his lantern, the glow of the soft light was the only thing that showed the way forward for Sketch.

Sketch had been walking in the dark woods for over an hour since the sun had set, his tired mind was racing between thoughts at incomprehensible speeds, frantically trying to grasp on to anything it could to find stability.

As Sketch passed a bare spot in a copse of trees, he heard a loud “SNAP” amongst the dry foliage, causing Sketch to twist in the direction. He held his lantern out to try and see, but there was nothing his eyes could find. He’d had a bad experience with wolves before, and this time, he didn’t think he’d be able to think of a strong Grym on the fly with his mind as tired as it was.

He stopped walking, wanting to be absolutely sure that there wasn’t something stalking him, wolves or otherwise. Seeing absolutely nothing in the light of his lantern, he continued on.

After another couple of minutes, he heard another sound from the woods, more crunching among the dry leaves. Sketch was becoming unwound at this point, he held the lamp outwards again, seeing nothing again, picked up his pace, wanting to try and get to the next village and feel safe.

It was less than a minute before Sketch heard another loud sound from the woods, at this point Sketch broke out in a run, attempting to outpace whatever was out there in the darkness. As Sketch ran, he heard sound coming up from behind him, which prodded him to run faster. The sound behind him was like a train whistle blowing, the sound echoing off the trees around him.

Sketch kept running, gods he was tired. His legs felt heavy, his breath was coming out in gasps. He could see faint lights coming from in front of him, maybe 200 yards away. Sketch was having trouble keeping his heavy eye lids open as he ran, but he could still hear the sounds coming from behind him, so he kept running. Sketch could swear that the lights in front of him were dancing as he sweated profusely.

Sketch was only steps away from the lights of the town, suddenly his foot slipped out from under him and he fell, his lantern falling out from his hand as he went down, flying off into the night. Sketch scrambled forward, trying to claw his way towards the village, he felt something snag his pants, and with his mind swimming in exhaustion, he turned around and saw-