Bennan's eyes slowly fluttered open. He couldn't seem to move his body, though he could feel something rough digging into his wrists, binding him.
Welcome back.
Specter's voice echoed in his head, causing him to groan in pain. Slowly, he began to pull his thoughts together and raised his head to look around.
He was in the same room he had walked into earlier, though now daylight streamed through the window, and the air was significantly warmer.
Pulling on his restraints and looking down, he saw his plain wooden chair. His arms were bound to it with coarse rope.
A noise to his right caught his attention. Blinking through blurry eyes, he watched a curtain push aside, revealing what looked like personal living quarters.
Though dazed from his transition into the Nightmare and weighed down by the presence of the Saints, he found it strange that he hadn't noticed the space earlier. Pushing that thought aside, he tried to focus on whoever was walking toward him.
"Hey, he woke up… but he looks kinda… drunken,"
he heard Anthony yell into the now open room.
As the two Saints stepped in, Anthony turned to Lyil and said, laughing,
"I don't know why you did that. It's not like he could've gotten away. All you did was waste three hours of our time waiting for him to wake back up."
Saint Lyil, looking none too pleased, grumbled something under his breath.
"Enough,"
interjected Wind Flower.
She turned to Bennan and stared into his eyes again, her voice plain and sharp.
"Who are you, and what's your connection to them?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Specter whispered a single word.
Lie.
Bennan swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet her gaze through his swollen eye. He tried to look as pitiful as possible—though that wasn't hard right now.
"Miss Wind Flower… I don't understand what's happening?"
he said shakily.
She held his gaze a moment longer, then shook her head.
"Let me explain exactly what's happening… My guard here,"
she said, patting Anthony on the shoulder,
"can see the soul inside the soul core of any human within a twenty-foot radius. Two days ago, a corruption started spreading among our ranks, making some souls unreadable. One of those soldiers attacked us—unsuccessfully."
She leaned in on the armrests of the chair, her face an inch from his. He could feel her breath on his skin.
"So tell me why, when we returned from eating, Saint Anthony informed me your soul changed too? It didn't disappear, he said—but it changed completely. The only thing that makes sense is that you have some hand in this."
As soon as she finished, Specter's voice returned.
Bennan, you must lie. Tell them nothing of the Nightmare Spell. They would never believe you.
"I'm a horrible liar, especially under this kind of pressure,"
he thought back helplessly.
"Speak,"
she ordered.
He could tell this was his last warning before he'd make enemies of three powerful Saints. Terrified of what they might do, he blurted out:
"I was sent back in time as a trial by something called the Nightmare Spell. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's the truth. It's a curse from my time that provides an easier path to ascension! I've taken the place of your servant to perform some task to prove myself!"
Gasping for air after the long-winded explanation, he stared at the ground, waiting for the interrogation to continue—or for them to laugh him off as a liar. But when the silence stretched on, he looked up to find their shocked gazes locked on him.
Minutes passed.
Anthony was the first to snap out of it, a smile creeping onto his face.
"I mean… that would explain why his soul shifted completely, wouldn't it? So the spell sent us a hero, huh? How fun is that!"
Lyil looked lost, his face caught between confusion and panic. He stammered out,
"B-but doesn't that mean that we're just…"
"What it means doesn't matter,"
Wind Flower snapped.
"Despite the implications, we still have a job to do."
She turned and raised her hand, sparks dancing around it. A long, beautiful sword appeared in a swirl of light. As she lowered it to her side, the ropes binding Bennan exploded into dust causing him to flinch.
Rubbing his raw wrists, he looked between them and asked:
"So this corruption… what exactly is it? A Nightmare creature?"
Wind Flower scrutinized him for a moment before turning to Anthony giving him a subtle nod to answer.
"Uh… as far as we can tell, it's probably not the creature itself, but its influence,"
he said.
"It kills its victim and takes their place—mimics them perfectly. From the first attack, its vessel seemed to have the strength of a low level transcendent. We've found a few so far, and we're planning to strike soon."
Bennan's face drained of color. His stomach twisted. All three Saints could hear his heart begin to beat wildly.
"Please tell me it doesn't know you're onto it!"
he yelled, his sudden change in tone startling them.
Anthony's smile slowly faded. He glanced awkwardly at the others before answering.
"Well… no. I've been checking everyone in the camp slowly from outside their quarters during the day while they sleep. No one on the day shift has been turned yet, so… it shouldn't know I've been sweeping for it."
He scratched his chin, clearly uncertain.
Bennan sat frozen, shaking his head. His thoughts raced.
How could the spell send me here? I'm not equipped for this. Not even close.
After a moment, he took a breath and spoke again—slowly.
"This beast… it's a scourge on the modern world. One of the few things that still keeps people awake at night, even in the comfort of the Sovereigns' domain. And…"
A chill ran down his spine.
"…it's more cunning than you can ever imagine."
He stared at them, his voice hollow as he spoke its name.
"We call it the Skin Walker."