The Strange Tale Of Ezekiel Henderson

Henderson had made his way down the mountain without incident, and had followed the river for about an hour. He then, after making sure he had his bearings, turned back into the thick forest. After another hour or so, he arrived at a trail; the trail they'd used to enter the forest, he surmised after he found one of his bootprints in some mud. Down the trail he went, towards the 'cave'.

Now where is Dash?, he thought as he arrived at the mouth of the facility.

She'd made it out. He knew because there was a set of out-facing hoofprints leading out of the hole. He followed them back down the trail, then they veered off into the forest.

Such a good listener..., referring to his parting utterance to her, 'Meet me at the traihead.'

Maybe she'd lead one of the beasts out of the facility, and she didn't want to lead it into town.

No, there was only one set of tracks.

He speculated on several different possibilities as he followed the pegasus' trail, deep into the forest. Then the trail stopped. Not faded, nor did he lose it, it just stopped. He glanced up at the canopy of trees and vines. Much too thick for her to have taken flight.

Snap

He turned just in time to see a hooded figure drop out of the tree he was standing beside. He tried to bring his rifle to bear but this newcomer was fast, very fast. It lunged forward and deftly knocked the weapon from Henderson's grasp, then sent him to the ground with a kick to the head, dislodging his helmet.

Ok, time to play., Henderson though as he rolled to the side, dodging another attack.

His adversary attempted another strike at his now unprotected head. Henderson blocked the attack with his armored fore-arms, then delivered a counter blow to his foe's side, who was sent into the side of the nearby tree. The shrouded figure crumpled to the ground, its hood falling to its shoulders as it did so.

Now, what are you?, he had a sudden sense of deja vu.

It looked like a bird, a quadripedal bird at that. Its large eyes sprung open suddenly, then locked on Henderson.

"FOOL!", it screamed just before Henderson felt a sharp pain on the back of his neck.

He reached around and felt something lodged in his neck, then removed it and brought it around to his face. It was a dart. He turned to try and find its origin. Another sharp pain in the side of his neck, another dart. He was feeling extremely drowsy, more so every second. He fell to his knees as he saw another hooded figure emerge from the underbrush, holding a long tube.

"Wha eh go-", he fell flat on his face.

He was having a nightmare. He was back in the underground facility, except this time he had no weapon, or armor. He was a greenhorn again, his body still weak and fat from eighteen years of pop tarts and weed for breakfast. He was being chased by not hundreds, or thousands, but millions of the small mechanical spiders. Through the cramped corridors and musty rooms he ran, until he came to a dead end. In rage he turned to at least let out a satisfying expletive before he was swept under the crawling swarm. To his surprise, the mass had been reduced to one measly spider, which he tried to stomp. He lifted his foot high above the crawly, then froze. He couldn't move at all. He watched in horror as it crawled up his leg, onto his back, across his shoulder, and onto his chest. He couldn't even scream as it began to burrow into his torso.

"NOOO!", his own screams woke him from this terror.

He was bound, his hands tied behind him, his ankles tied together. His helmet was missing, but a quick once-over confirmed he still had the rest of his gear. It was dark, but a sliver light leaked under the room's wooden door. He looked around the space he was in, a room. There were shelves in this room, on which rows upon rows of books and scrolls sat; as well as a large chest-of-drawers.

Footsteps, outside the door. They got louder and stopped, Henderson could see a shadow under the door, which opened to reveal one of the bird-like creatures.

"Please excuse my subordinates, they haven't the faintest concept of class.", it addressed Henderson.

So Tweety's a girl, Henderson deduced from the pitch of her voice.

"Well, I probably wouldn't have come willingly.", Henderson chuckled despite himself.

"Oh?", Ms. Bird Thing arched an 'eyebrow'. "We'll just keep our centuries of information about the horrors you just witnessed to ourselves, and you can be on your marry way."

Now Henderson raised a bushy eyebrow, "I'm listening. But do you think there's any chance I could listen with my hands where I can see them?"

Ms. Bird Thing's turn to chuckle, "Perhaps you would be a better listener."

She undid Henderson's bonds.

"Now, come with me. A supply closet is no place to discuss a topic of this importance.", she walked out of the room.

She led Henderson down an earthen hallway, roots protruding from the ceiling. They passed several rooms, most of which's doors were closed. Now they came to a rather, cozy, looking room. Wooden chairs circled a central fire pit, in which a fire flickered and crackled. Seated in some of these chairs were more of the bird-like beings, a few more sat at a nearby table, dining on some cooked fish. They all looked up at Henderson as he entered.

"Have a seat.", his hostess motioned to one of the chairs near the fire.

Henderson complied as Ms. Bird Thing introduced herself, "My name is Anchita. And you are?"

"Henderson. Lance Corporal Ezekiel Henderson."

"Ezekiel, a fitting name for a warrior.", Anchita replied. "And don't worry about your equine friend, she is sleeping soundly in one of the rooms we passed."

Henderson felt some invisible weight lift off his shoulders.

"Now", Anchita stretched out her forelegs for the fire to warm, "I suppose you're wondering who we are and why the hell we've brought you here."

Henderson smirked, "You read my mind."