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Who am I?

It's dark and stormy night the wind blows and the rain pours down. The sky lights up with the flash of lightning and booms with the roar of thunder. A boy no older then thirteen years old runs in the mud through a forest wearing nothing more than a pair of tattered gray shorts. The boy looks over his shoulder as he runs to see if he is still being chased. He runs and hides behind a tree. He leans against the trunk to catch his breath. Suddenly, an arrow shoots by and embeds itself in the wood only inches from the boy’s head. A horse neighs as it rears up and charges closer carrying a man in a red and blue soldier’s uniform. “There he is! I found him. This way men!” The soldier called out to his comrades.

The boy quickly turned and ran for his life. As he ran through the bushes in a desperate attempt to escape, the bushes cut his already battered and worn body, covering him in cuts and blood. But the man on horseback simply tore through the brush with his horse being followed by two more men on horseback wearing the same red and blue uniform. The boy’s bare foot hit a rock hidden by the mud and fell down. As the soldier’s dismounted their steeds and approached the boy they drew out their swords.

“You killed our comrade. Prepare to die you whelp.” The first soldier declared. “But I didn’t kill anybody! I swear you have to believe me.” The boy pleaded. “Liar! We saw you standing right next to our dead brother; his fleshly drawn blood still covered your hands!” The second man shouted. “I didn’t do anything! Please, I beg you, don’t kill me!” The boy cried as he struggled to pick himself up out of the mud. Before he could get onto both feet the boy felt the cold surface of one of the men’s metal sword rest next to his neck. “Prepare to meet your fate.” The boy closed his eyes and braced himself for his eminent demise.

“Pa, I think he’s waking up.” “Quick Violet, go get yer mother” “Okay.” The sound of a door squeaking open and slamming shut was heard clearly as the young boy’s eyes slowly squinted open. “You awake now, kiddo?” asked the man leaning over the boy. The man had a thick curly black beard and wore a red plaid shirt, blue overalls, and a brown hat farm hat with a hole on the rim. “You gave us quite the scare there boy. We weren’t sure if ya’d wake up er not.” said the man with a thick country accent. “Who are you?” asked the kid. “Name’s Horace, who are you?” replied the man.” “I… don’t know.” “Hmm, sounds like yer head’s still fuzzy ‘round the edges.”

The door slammed open again as a young girl of about twelve ran in shortly there after followed by her mother. “See ma? He’s awake!” exclaimed the girl as she pointed to the confused boy slowly sitting up on the cot. “What happened to-” the boy began to say before he was cut off in mid-sentence. “You’re up! You’re up! See? I told ya all he’d wake up! Didn’t I?!” the girl proudly announced to her parents. The boy looked down at his body and saw his torso and arms wrapped up in bandages. “What happened to me?” the teen asked, still a little dazed. “We found you washed up on the river bank covered with wounds. We brought you back to our ranch to tend to your injuries. You’ve been asleep for the past three days.” replied the mother in a smooth accent unlike the others. She wore a pale yellow gown and a white apron. Her long brown hair reached just past her shoulders and curled at the bottom. “Well Clara done did most the injury tendin’.” The man named Horace added.

The woman handed the boy a glass of water. “Here, you must be parched.” The boy greedily gulped down the water. “Violet, go fetch our young guest something from the kitchen please.” asked the woman in a soft voice. “But, Ma!” “Violet, do as yer mother tells ya.” scolded the man. “Fine.” The girl replied before running out of the room. The boy saw the girl as she left. She wore a light purple dress and her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

The boy stopped and looked at all his bandages covering his body. “How do my wounds look?” asked the kid. “Dunno. Usually had the wife check up on ya. But let’s see.” said the man as he helped the kid unwind some of the wraps on his right arm. Horace was surprised to see that most of the wounds were already healing; some were only stabs and scars now. “Boy howdy! You sure make a speedy recovery! Hey, how ‘bout we calls ya all Speedy?” Horace asked only to get an annoyed stare from the boy. “Ya know, fer now. At least til ya can ‘member yer real name.” Horace explained. The boy merely sighed in acceptance, not particularly fond of the name but the situation was that so he really couldn’t argue. The boy caught something shining in the corner of his eyes. He looked down at his arm and saw a golden cuff locked around his wrist. “What’s this?” he asked. “Don’t rightly know. They were on ya when we found ya. It was the only thing you were wearing. Other than those gold things on yer wrists, you were naked as a jaybird.” Replied the man as he scratched his head.

A few hours later, Horace walked out with the boy who was now dressed in a green shirt and a pair of loose fitting blue jeans held up with a brown belt. He had removed a lot of the bandages, but still had to keep some on for the larger wounds. “My goodness, don’t you look handsome?” said the woman. “I’ll say.” replied the girl. The boy looked around the living room. It was quant. A leather pelt covered the floor in front of the fireplace. The room was decorated with some wood furnishings such as a large table and chairs and one rocking chair in the corner of the room. He looked across to the right to see the kitchen directly attached to the living room, only separated by small hallway.

The boy stopped as he passed a mirror and glanced at it. The boy turned pale as he saw a red faced demon looking back at him in the mirror. The boy rubbed his eyes and looked again. This time he saw himself. Short ruffed up brown hair that looked near impossible to control. Eyes deep blue like sky just after twilight. Smooth skin that was just slightly tanned. His well toned body showed in his face too. A small dimple in his right cheek showed as he smiled in relief.

Horace tapped on the boy’s shoulder. “You alright Speedy?” he asked concerned. “I’m fine. Just looking at my reflection.” he chuckled lightly after as he resumed walking down the hallway to the front door. The boy walked out the front the door and looked at the surrounding area. It was a large ranch. A big red barn settled to the left and to the right was a large pasture filled with cattle. Straight ahead was a long dirt road that disappeared over a hill. The sky was light blue decorated with a few white puffy clouds here and there. The bright rays of the sun warmed up the boy’s skin. It was a pretty nice ranch.

After getting everyone on the roof, Speedy confronted Horace. “What’s wrong, why are we hiding up here on roof? Who’s making that dust trail? Who’s Crusher?” Clara intervened and said, “It’s not so much who, but more of a what. You see Crusher is a bull.” “He’s more then a bull Clara; he’s a monster. That there ornery monster comes barreling through here every now and a again and leaves a trail of ruin. He’s the meanest most ornery bull ever ta step hoof on this here earth.” replied Horace.

“So what you’re saying is some bull rampages through the farm occasionally and just leaves the place in rubble?!?” “You don’t understand Speedy. That there bull is a monster. Daddy tried ta stop ‘em the first time he came on through here. Daddy barely made it outta that encounta’! All we can do is hide up here and wait for ‘em ta run through an’ just fix the farm after he’s gone.” Violet explained. The four watched as the cows stampeded out of the path of the rampant bull. The bull tore through the wooden fences like they where tissue paper and smashed everything in his way. Speedy stood up and balled up his hands into fists. “No! How can you just hand here and watch this happen?! I won’t stand for it!” Speedy declared as he hopped off the roof.

Speedy tuck and rolled as he hit the ground and got up. He picked up a rock and ran towards the bull. Crusher was too busy slamming his horns into a wooden shed to notice the boy running at him. Speedy hurled the stone at the raging bull and nailed him right above the eye. The bull stopped attacking the shed instantly and turned to look at the offender. At first the bull’s expression was that of confusion. But it wasn’t before long that the bull’s eyes went red and he began to scratch the ground with his hoof, preparing to charge. It took off in a blind fury and charged at the boy in the distance.

The boy rose at the crack of dawn and walked outside. As he entered the barn, he heard the rooster crow. “Jeez, I’m up even before the rooster’s crow now. I miss staying up and watching the moon.” the boy complained. The boy grabbed the axe and went behind the house to chop wood before moving them in piles to the fence. He spent hours fixing the fence each morning. After he fixed the fences completely the boy spent a few days rounding up the cattle that ran away. The daily chores didn’t end after the ruins from the bull’s rampage were repaired either.

The salt licks still had to be moved, chickens had to be fed, eggs collected, water pulled out of the well, and cows had to be milked. Speedy especially hated the milking cows part, since he was kicked in the head the first time by the heifer, he always felt uneasy about milking. It took a straight week of 16 hour work days, but the farm was finally back to working order. Horace was still unable to work, but he would shout instructions to Speedy if anything was being done wrong.

It was the last chore before lunch, fetch water from the well. Speedy slowly cranked the handle and reeled up the rope that pulled the water bucket up to the surface. Speedy hated this job because it was a slow process and it was right before lunch which made him antsy. The bucket of water was almost at the top when the handle on the wheel crank snapped and the bucket began to plummet back down as the rope spun around the now unmanned wheel. The boy jumped onto the well’s edge and grabbed the rope bare handed. The friction burned his palms, but he managed to stop the bucket. “Horace! The handle broke! What do I do?” Speedy called out. “Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout Speedy? Jus’ pull up the bucket wit yer hands. In times like these, ya gots ta grab the bull by the horns and do things by force.” Speedy nodded his head as he began to pull up the bucket by pulling up the rope with his now burnt hands. After finally collecting the water Speedy went inside to eat. “Grab the bull by the horns, eh? I think I like the way that sounds.”

Crusher charged pass the house and chased down the boy that dared to attack him. “That’s right you overgrown steak, come get me.” Speedy dashed to the left and led the bull away from the house. The bull slowly began to catch up with the inhumanly fast boy. Speedy spotted a metal pole sticking out from the ground. He knew it was close to breaking by how rusted it was, but if he could use it to turn around by spinning around it, and pull it out with him, perhaps he could use it to attack the bull at full speed. Speedy determined that it was his best chance and decided to go for it.

He grabbed onto it with his right hand and swung around, pulling a 180, only to have the pole snap from the force, releasing Speedy empty-handed, straight towards the bull. Speedy had built too much moment to slow down without tripping, and the bull was too close for him to turn to the side, not at this speed. The boy cursed himself in his mind, “I’m screwed! I put all my chances on that pole, now I can’t handle this beast… handle… Wait! The handle broke… so grab the bull… by the horns.” Speedy remembered Horace’s words and decided to take them literally. The boy continued to sprint towards the charging bull. The two high-speed enemies grew closer and closer.

The bull glanced up at Speedy with his red eyes, full of rage. “I’m not afraid of you. Not this time!” The boy sidestepped the bull just before it reared his head up to skewer the boy. Speedy grabbed onto the bull’s right horn with his right hand, and spun around 180 degrees before grabbing the bull’s left horn with his other hand and wrapping his legs around the bull’s neck. Crusher went berserk from the unwelcome rider. He bucked and shook and even fell to the ground a few times in an effort to throw off the boy. But his actions where in vain, the harder he fought, the more the boy tightened his legs around the bull’s neck.

It wasn’t long before the bull began to lose his balance, becoming more and more tired and dizzy from the lack of oxygen. The bull slowed to a trot as he began to near the house again. The bull stopped ten yards in front of the house. Crusher just stood still for several seconds before falling over, passed out cold. The family rushed to the door and the women ran out as Horace stood against the doorway propped up by a cane. Speedy rolled off the unconscious killer bull and looked up to see the two ladies run to his side. “Did I win?” Speedy asked in a high-pitched voice before passing out from exhaustion.

Speedy settled down for the night, but he couldn’t manage to fall asleep; he could only stare at the moonless sky through the window, praying that the warm embrace of the sun’s light would soon cut through the dark night sky and bring morning and day to the restless boy. After a few hours, Speedy noticed a light in the sky, but it was not the sun that he so desperately wished for. It was a far off small red dot in the sky, a few appeared at first, but the red dots began to multiply. Soon there were a hundred little red dots, and it looked like they were getting closer.

The boy crawled out through the window to get a better look. As the swarm of red dots came closer and closer to the farm, Speedy realized that those dots weren’t dots, but they were red glowing eyes. Even in the dark, Speedy was able to make out the shape of the red eyed night flyers. They weren’t like anything he’d ever seen before, they seemed… inhuman, unnatural, no… demonic. Although Speedy had no idea where he knew this word, or how he knew what they were, but in his mind, the boy just knew that those eyes belonged to demons. And from the look of dots, there were a lot of them.

Speedy jumped back through the window and rushed over to the family’s bed room and slammed the door open. “Everyone wake up! Something is coming, something evil.” Horace rolled over and sat up. “Speedy boy, ya all just had a nightmare. You took down the biggest meanest creature this side of the country; you’re just still shaken up. Now go back ta bed an’ get some shut-eye.” Speedy dashed to the window facing east and threw open the curtains, letting the red lights glowing outside side in the sky that drew closer and closer to be seen. Horace’s opinion switched dramatically. “Wha- what are dose things?” he asked. “Demons. Those are demons.” replied Speedy.