The World of Myth - Samuel Hayne - Faro’s Ring Part Three

“It seems I had the strength to get up on my own.” The hybrid grabbed one of the decanters on the table. “So, you want to know who I am.” He poured whiskey into two empty crystal goblets; one for himself and one for Nick. “You want to know where you are.”

Nick stared as the half dead, half rejuvenated creature raised a glass to its full lips and sipped. “You want to know what has been happening to you.” Nick could barely lift the cup and needed the man-monster’s assistance in drinking. Nick sloppily gulped down his whiskey. “It’s time to get you some answers, my friend.”

Nick felt the life draining from him. He limply lifted his arm, barely able to move it from the table. The man walked away from Nick, letting the linen wrappings that had covered him fall to the ground, which revealed a beautifully fit body with a smattering of dark hair across the chest and stomach.

The man-monster turned his back to Nick, his firm ass muscles barely moving as he walked away. The Dark Watcher beside Nick had broken free from the linen bandages that surrounded its body. It now joined the five others that had been seated around the dining table. Nick was too weak to move. If they wanted him, they could have him.

“Answer to question number one: Who the fuck am I?” The man slowly turned around. His beautiful full lips curved up into a charming smile. The raw skull that earlier had been crowned with only a few coarse wisps of hair, was now covered with a short, wavy black mane. His almond-shaped, vibrant, almost inhuman blue eyes sparkled in the dim lamplight. “That’s really a great question. You see, you know me already.”

Nick’s skin began to feel numb. He brought his hands to his face. His cheeks were course like desert sand and the skin felt paper-thin.

“We’re old friends you and I,” the man-monster said.

“We are?” Nick’s voice surprised him. It was no longer the velvety smooth and singsong tone he was used too. It was now rough and grating.

The man-monster nodded as he paused at one of the suitcases and removed a pair of black slacks and pulled them on. He withdrew a white linen shirt and pulled it over his torso. He removed a silver cigarette case from the breast pocket and took out a brown cigar. He wet it with his tongue and lips, walked over to Nick and grabbed a lighter from inside his coat pocket, lighting the aromatic cheroot he held between his teeth.

“Let me help you up, old friend.” Nick’s twin gripped him by the arm and lifted his rotting body from the chair. “I believe you have something of mine.” He confiscated the alligator skin wallet from Nick’s back pocket, then dropped his limp body back into the chair. His vision starting to blur, Nick gazed up into his twin’s face. He was shocked, yet again.

“This is your wallet? How is that possible? You’re not Robert Faro.” Nick could feel himself falling into the darkness of insanity. “Robert Faro died tonight.” It hurt for Nick to talk as his vocal cords hardened and crumbled.

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