Shadow slave: In The Eye of The Beholder

Silas stared at the monstrosity before him, adrenaline surging through his veins, finally ripping him from the haze of sleep. Instinctively, he activated [Beholder of Strings], a golden thread emerging from the creature's horrid mouth, ending directly at his head.

He barely had time to process it before he rolled out of bed, just as the cow's jaws snapped shut where his head had been, tearing through the mattress.

Silas hit the wooden floor, struggling to catch his breath. His eyes flickered with the activation of [Soul Sight] and [Beholder of Strings], a kaleidoscope of colours bursting in his irises.

Two dim, abysmal orbs glowed in its chest.

'A, a MONSTER!' Silas's thoughts raced in panic as he frantically scanned the room for a weapon. His heart sank as he saw another string extending through his own chest.

Realizing the ominous prediction. He looked up to see the cow turning its head toward him, its array of gigantic canines still growing larger and larger. Its lips peeled back to reveal putrid gums, and fragments of his bed crunched between its teeth.

The monster locked eyes with Silas, its maw opening wide once again. A sharp tongue shot out, whipping toward his heart. Silas ducked just in time, jumping away as the tongue raced past, grazing the side of his cheek and ear and going even further, chunking the wall behind him. 

Pain surged through Silas as he clasped his right ear, feeling the blood pulse, desperate to escape his body. A myriad of golden strings appeared in his view, whipping around in a chaotic dance, weaving past him and the structure of the room.

Seeing the ethereal dance of the strings, Silas's heart skipped a beat. In a quick panic, he launched himself through the chunked wall, emerging into the cold, unforgiving wind of the early morning.

Just in time, as the cow's tongue whipped, cleaving though the room like paper, the flesh swung like a flail The already weakened structure of the room collapsed, sending an explosion of dust and splinters outward.

Silas quickly shut his eyes, plunging into a visionless world where he felt tens, maybe hundreds, of tiny darts—each splinter digging into his skin.

Groaning in pain and writhing on the cool grass, Silas opened his eyes, tears blurring his vision as he desperately searched for any salvation amidst the torrent of pain and terror.

A silver gleam caught his attention—a pitchfork stuck in one of the many bundles of wheat. The sight of the weapon immediately sparked hope in the boy's soul, only to be doused when the wooden debris behind him burst apart. Silas heard an ear-piercing roar as the cow leaped with uncharacteristic agility, its monstrous form airborne for a moment before crashing down onto the soil.

the cow's shining through the dust locked onto him, its horrid jaw still open wide and ready, the mysterious creature had its long flail tongue hanging out from the side of its mouth like a panting dog, although it was anything but cute. It was the most horrifying thing he had ever seen.

'SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!' Silas cursed, franticly scrambling up and dashing towards the new hope, the galloping stomp of hooves behind him sounding ever closer accompanied by the raspy gasp in his throat, as his lungs cried for oxygen that brushed past his skin. 

Reaching for the wooden handle of the pitchfork, Silas grasped it tightly and yanked it out of the bales. He quickly turned to face the hungry behemoth, its jaws opening unnaturally wide, ready to swallow him whole.

With a desperate thrust, Silas used every ounce of his strength, will, and desire. The pitchfork's iron head pierced the roof of the beast's mouth with an unusual sharpness. Silas felt the weight of the monster pushing him down as the pitchfork became wedged between the ground and the creature.

The blades sank deeper with a sickening crunch, emerging from the bovine's head. Dark red blood erupted from the wound, showering Silas and the surrounding soil. The wooden handle groaned under the pressure, cracking and splintering before snapping in half.

The beast's immense weight crashed to the ground beside him. Silas dove away just in time to avoid being crushed.

The gentle voice of the spell whispered in his ear.

[You have slain an awakened monster, Voracious Bovine.]

Silas stared blankly at the fallen beast, struggling to process the whirlwind of events. Each dreadful moment had felt like an eternity.

The voice spoke again.

[You have received a Memory...]

This statement snapped him back to reality. The joy and sense of accomplishment finally began to seep in, though his legs gave way under the overwhelming fatigue.

The rampage had ended, leaving only the wind rustling through the fields. Silas looked toward where the house once stood. The cabin lay in ruins, its logs torn apart and scattered. The thatch roof had collapsed over the debris, covering the scene of destruction as if to shield it from view.

As the adrenaline of battle faded, memories of yesterday, buried beneath the bloodshed, surged back to Silas. His gaze, filled with worry, drifted toward the rubble of the cabin. Two things stood out as missing.

First, his awakened uncle. Despite the chaos of the cow's relentless attack, his uncle had never come to his rescue. There were no traces of blood, no sign of a struggle, only the eerie silence of his absence.

Second, the fenced area that had once held three cows was now empty. Silas had confronted one of them, but the other two were gone, along with his uncle. The absence of both raised unsettling questions.

Silas's mind raced with unanswered questions. 'Was it just that one cow, or were the others nightmare creatures too? Why did it become like that? Before I arrived, they seemed normal. And if my uncle knew nothing about it, they must have been something commonplace, something he's had for years.'

The early morning sun cast its rays over the endless plains, illuminating the ruins of the house and the lifeless eyes of the fallen beast. Blood continued to seep from the cow's hollow body, a grim reminder of the battle's aftermath.

Shaking off the unsettling thoughts, Silas decided to focus on the bounty he had received. The shimmering runes of the memory came into view, offering a new perspective on his situation.

Memory: [Mad Cows Canine]

Memory Rank: Awakened

Memory Tier: II

Memory Type: Weapon

Memory Description: The peaceful beast, corrupted by the voices of the fields, consumed all it saw. The only remnant of its rampage is its canine.

Memory Enchantments:

[Growth]

Enchantment Description: Retains the shifting will of the teeth, allowing the blade to change size as needed.

[Sturdy]

Enchantment Description: Enhances the durability of the maulers, enabling the weapon to withstand more damage.

[Frenzy]

Enchantment Description: Draws upon the beast's insatiable hunger, granting the wielder increased power.

Summoning the memory, Silas examined the dull grey blade of the dagger. The wooden handle, still holding traces of bone, felt solid in his grasp.

The weapon's weight in his hand provided a sense of reassurance amidst the chaos. Even though Silas doubted his ability to wield it to its full potential, its presence was a boon he wasn't about to overlook.

Though his muscled that held the sword buckled, exhaustion threatening to pull him under, feeling weight increase as his body desperately asked for a break. 

Despite the lure of rest, Silas refused to succumb to fatigue. With a resolute push, he grew the [Mad Cows Canine] into a short sword, anchoring it into the grass to help him rise.

As he stood, the fields ahead stretched out before him, their vast expanse both intimidating and inviting. The thought of his missing uncle weighed heavily on his mind. There would be no time to rest. He took a deep breath, feeling the cool morning air reinvigorate him just enough to continue.

"No rest for the wicked," Silas muttered to himself, his voice barely more than a whisper against the wind. With a determined stride, he ventured back into the wheat. 

hope lay in his hands, and blood in his future.