1

“Crest….” He could hear a voice call his name. “Crest.” It called again in the dark. Everywhere he looked there was shadow, as dark and as black as his beast form, which he had mysteriously changed into. Last he remembered, he was normal, old Crest, the Crest that was a monster but didn’t look any different from any other man. Clutching his head dazed and confused, he turned around. Where was he at? Was he in hell? Honestly, he thought hell would have been more…. red. Assuming, he really was in hell.

As he faced the other way, something appeared in his hazy vision. A curvy figure was coming his way. Not just any curvy figure, but one that was familiar, a voluptuous lady with raven black hair that seemed to blend within the darkness itself.

He knew her as Charmaine.

All at once his body seemed to go numb. A returning sense of regret and anger started to swell. He averted his gaze as if she were too beautiful of a creature for him. It must have been an illusion of his. Truthfully, however, illusion or not, he felt embarrassed to be in her presence again, as if she were almost divine. Such a crude person like him, with a woman like her? He should have known better. But at the time he didn’t.

And that’s why he got burned.

“Crest,” Charmaine, or at least the illusion that was Charmaine, called out, reaching for him as she did.

“Get away,” Crest moaned in pain, shoving her hand away and attempting to hide his face. “Don’t look at me.”

“Crest, be reasonable. Look at me…..Crest.”

Releasing the flinch in his eyes, Crest opened them wide, despite being apprehensive. Now he could see her full beauty: her gorgeous red lips, her perfect green eyes, her soft, silky face. For a minute, he remembered just how he felt when he first fell in love. It was almost like he had fallen again.

She smiled so pretty, even his own mother couldn’t have warmed his heart as much.

“We can try again Crest,” the woman said. “It could be just like old times.”

Somehow, he believed her. “It could?”

“Yes,” she insisted. “Just like old times……you monster.” Just then a devious smile showed on her face

Tensing, Crest suddenly felt uneased. “What? What did you say?”

“i sAiD iT’lL bE jUsT liKe oLd tImeS…” Cackling wickedly with a twisted tone, the woman who was once a paragon of beauty, started to grow menacing, horrid teeth. This was no longer Charmaine, but a hideous harpy.

Crest tried to run. But before he could, the fiend sunk her teeth into his shoulder. His skin ruptured. Blood went flying everywhere. As his former lover sunk her teeth into his flesh, Crest screamed like a banshee into the endless void. But they were alone. And no one could hear them.

2

Covers went flying off the bed, as Crest awoke in a cold sweat. He was panting like crazy as he gripped the sheets tightly in his hand. Crest looked around. He was in his room. Calming down as he realized where he was, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He had been having dreams about the past all night long, but now he was awake and he thanked the gods’ for that. As he got up and looked out of his window, the sun hadn’t quite risen yet, but there was enough light available to see his room clearly without the need for a candle.

He did a quick stretching of his arms and legs. What an awful night he had, had. He couldn’t think of a night in recent memory that topped it. In fact, he wanted to forget about it. Last night he had been turned off from drinking. He figured all he needed was a good night’s rest. But now it was all he could think about to make himself happy again.

Well, can’t sulk all day, he thought to himself. Looks like I’ll have to get drunk after all.

3

It was the morning after the fight had broken out at the tavern. Borka prayed there wouldn’t be another one anytime soon. She hoped that today would be a normal day. Rambling through her pocket she grabbed her key to open the front door to the Drunken Tankard. Her and Dorsea were the first to make it there. Despite being the owner of the place, Lou hardly ever arrived before the girls did, so he entrusted them with the duty of opening shop.

“Ready for another day sis?” Borka sounded sleepy.

Dorsea shook her head. “With the baboon? Hardly.”

Borka opened the door and pocketed her key. “Be nice.”

As they entered, the floorboards creaked beneath their feet. The sounds that the tavern made were much more noticeable when the voices of its clientele went unheard. But that was hardly the most distracting noise. Laughing came from the other end of the tavern. Across the room, where the sunlight of the morning sun shone in, Crest set at one of the tables with six mugs of alcohol.

Borka and Doesea looked on with flabbergasted faces. After a few seconds of them staring, Crest took notice of them.

“Girls!” He exclaimed plastered and red-faced. “Morning! Morning!” He got up from his chair to better greet them, but by their looks, they didn’t want him getting any closer. As he was coming, Crest couldn’t hold his balance. His head and body tumbled into Borka, like a broom that couldn’t stand up right.

Gritting her teeth she pulled him off her and held him up by the shoulders.

“Crest, have you been drinking all night?” Borka wore a confused expression. One that said she hoped he hadn’t been.

Feeling the need, he corrected her. “All morning actually,” he belched a bubble.

Slanting her sinister eyes, Dorsea crossed her arms. “Like I said, he’s a stupid baboon.”

“Now, now,” Borka defused as she stood Crest upright. He was a little wobbly, but he didn’t seem like he would collapse again. “Honestly Crest, what are we going to do with you? What the heck possessed you to drink that much?”

Something stirred in him. He scowled at her. Something he rarely did, if ever. He pushed her to side and went for the door.

“Crest?” Borka’s tone became worrisome. “Crest where are you going?”

That was a good question, but she didn’t receive a definite answer. “I need some fresh air.” He said. As he stepped out, he didn’t look back.

4

Stumbling about on a dirt road, Crest had made it some ways away from the tavern. He was no longer in Beros Town, but had found himself on a dirt road in the local forest. As he fumbled about, his face of misery returned. Despite being intoxicated, the memories of his youth were ever present, ever persistent. They wouldn’t leave him alone.

5

One night seven years ago, Crest was bouncing a crimson red ball against the wall of his old bedroom. Each time it bounced off the wall, it returned to him. He found it to be a peaceful activity, although dull. He had just bounced it back for the hundredth time when he could hear the voices of his parents beyond his bedroom door. At first the sounds of their conversation were muddled, but the closer they came, the clearer their words were. Startled, but curious, Crest listened intently.

“Sign, this ‘monster’ business you’re always filling the boys’ heads with, you aren’t serious about it are you? If I got hurt, you would avenge me wouldn’t you?” Crest recognized the voice who asked the question as his mother.

“Listen Shepa,” his father’s voice sounded weathered. “I have to keep the boys straight. Especially Crest. He’s a wild one. I don’t want him, any of them, to experience the weight that comes with taking a human life. Not….” He quieted himself. “Not like I had to. Those with power, have an obligation to use it responsibly or else they’ll go down a dark path. They’ll turn out to be bad men. The world needs more good guys.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I have no need to kill again.”

“But if you had to?”

“I’ll think about it, when it comes.”

6

As he reflected, Crest got the sudden urge to want to upchuck all over the road. He remembered why he didn’t kill. It was because his father always wanted him to be a ‘good guy’. But deep down, he had kept himself from crossing the line for much more than that. That’s not to say his dad had no influence over him. He definitely had.

His father had been the whole reason as to why he wanted to travel so badly.

Slowly, Crest began to remember a hot summer day from several years ago.

7

Some time ago, seven years in fact, Crest was hiding behind the door frame of a hallway in his home. His parents were in the living room speaking with one another. This time they were somewhat quiet, yet Crest could still hear them.

He peaked around the corner; his father leaned against the doorway and his mother was sitting in the window ceil. He ducked back, so he wouldn’t be spotted.

“Listen Shepa, I’ve been talking to some of my old crew down at the tavern, and we’ve been discussing a few things.” Sign looked down at his shoes, choosing not to look at his wife directly. “There’s…..something I want to do.”

Shepa fanned her face with her hand delicately to cool off. Hesitant, but curious, she asked him what he meant anyway. “What’s this ‘something’ you want to do?”

“Well it’s sort of complicated….y’know it’s….it’s silly.” Stumbling over his words, Sign seemed more confused than she did.

Groaning, Shepa insisted he get to point. “Just spit it out.” She said.

“Well….” He hesitated. “They’ve been talking about Al Spar Munda. You know, the uncharted territory north, north of here?”

Her eyes shifted his way. “Go on.”

“I was thinking about how we got together so soon. I regret that I didn’t do more with my life before then. I regret not seeing more of the world. I want to go there before I die…I want to….I need to….”

“Wait....what? What are you saying?"

"Well," he began. "I was thinking about setting sail with them." He admitted. "And I was hoping you'd be okay with that." Sign attempted to smile as if he had said nothing wrong.

“I don’t understand…” Shepa stood up realizing. “You’re….You’re trying to leave me? Us?” Her face scrunched up, pained and almost livid. “You have responsibilities here, duties to your family, to me. And instead of focusing on the important stuff, you’ve been planning to leave me so you can go off and do gods’ knows what?”

“I’m not really leaving. If I make it back alive, I promise that, that’s when I’ll finally be ready to settle down once and for all. But this... this is just something I have to do.”

“Even if it’s at the expense of your wife?” She glared.

Sign scratched the back of his head. He thought about it for a minute. After a few seconds something of a dumb smile came over him. “Well yeah.”

Standing before him, even though she was shorter, Shepa seemed so tall. She now had an angry look that gave him cause for concern. “Uh…dear?” He whimpered. “You feeling alright?”

Suddenly, like a thunder clap, Shepa’s strong open hand slapped her man across the face. Sign was now red as a ruby beetle.

“You baboon!” She said with a stink face.

Wowza! That must have stung.

Crest could hear the slap from all the way from where he was standing. He wasn’t rooting against his dad, but he could understand how his mother felt. His father really wanted to step out on them to go to such a dangerous place, one that most people never returned from. “Al Spar Munda.”

8

Along the dirt road, Crest stopped. “Dammit dad, why’d you have to leave?” He asked aloud, but he was questioning nobody but himself.

He was a sad sack of shit if there ever was one.

And it only got sadder.

Out of his haze, a sharp feeling hit Crest like a runaway cart. The sudden urge to urinate, welled in his genitals. “I got to pee.” He whispered to himself, his eyes lighting up as he did. And then, right there, out on the middle of the street, he dropped his pants and started to piss in the road.