Uninvited

Chapter Four|Remembrance

George was asleep.

And Dream was alone.

Dream didn't know what he should do.

He had lied about his name, you know. He had one. William had given him one, all that time ago. Sixty-six years ago.

George did look a lot like his grandfather used to. The only difference was the ears and nose if Clay's memory serves him right.

Sixty-six years ago, he had been wounded, and he was stuck in this form. Another dream demon had attacked him. He had accidentally wandered out of his own territory, and then he had gotten hurt because of it, a large gash in the back of his right calf that had him limping, and oozing thick essence.

When William had first found him, it was the third time ever that he was in his human form. William must have heard him limping around, falling over occasionally, and thought it was someone who's injured. So he saw a boy that day when he found him. He had changed from half-demon form to human form. That isn't good.

His demon form doesn't bleed. His Midway form oozes. And his human form bleeds out.

Right from the bat, he had tried to run. He couldn't be seen so weak, let alone by a human who he had no idea about.

But, like an injured animal offered food for the first time in days, he caved.

He needed this human's help, and he needed someone to feed on.

William was nice to him. Really nice to him. He cleaned up his wound, telling him stories because while he had let this boy tend to him, he didn't let him hear his voice.

William's father was a potter. He worked with clay and glaze to make beautiful ceramics, and then he'd paint and glaze them, making them even more beautiful than they once were. He was interested right off the bat, after two nights of just sleeping in the shed away from everyone.

He was a natural, or at least, that's what they told him after he made mug after mug, pretty and neat for whoever would use them.

A couple of days later William was telling him stories again. And then he named him.

"Clay." He said, and he had turned to him, confused. The scarf covering his face was a bit worn.

"I'll call you Clay. It can be your new name." William was smiling widely like it was so brilliant that Clay couldn't refuse it.

And maybe it wasn't brilliant, but the day he took that name marks the day he made the worst decision of his life.

"I like it." Clay had said. On that day, he had decided.

He had trusted a human.

Life was good and horrible all at once in the next two years or so.

Good, because he was happy.

Bad, because he was starving.

Clay forced himself to eat only once every three days. It was a random one every three days, but he was used to eating every night. He couldn't do that though. He couldn't do that to William.

Any time he ate gave Will nightmares so he could eat his fear, he would run into his physical arms and cry, where Clay had to calm him.

Every. Time.

And every time, Clay cries with him, because he's sorry, but there's no way he can survive without it. He learned to hate himself and everything he did, and it hurt.

But in the morning, Clay and Will would play and hang out. They would hunt down herbs to boil for tea and pretend to fight one another, as brothers would do.

Clay would have a chance to forget about it his life, his very own species, if only for a couple of hours.

Clay was only 124 back then. Thirteen in human years. Young. Stupid.

He's learned a lot in the sixty-six years since then.

Two days before the two year anniversary of him living with William, he finally got the courage to tell him that he was a demon.

It didn't stick at first. It took a day for Clay to fully convince Will that Clay had plagued him with nightmares for years. It took him a day to get Will to hate him.

He knows the exact time. The exact time he believed him.

It was at five thirty-four, a September afternoon.

William watched Clay change forms right before his eyes, morphing into a being with white skin and horns, a mask, and a tail. He watched the claws grow out. He watched it all.

William was frozen in fear and shock.

"I'm sorry." Clay said. It was supposed to be the last thing he said to William.

He jumped out the window and landed in a roll, running into the woods.

That night, he found a little girl to feed on. The town was two miles away from William's house in the woods.

He ran away before she could wake up and see him.

He went into the trees to sleep that night.

He woke up with an arrow in his side.

He fell to the ground, choking. It was in his arm.

He broke the arrow near the tip, choking back a scream. He would pull it out later when he was safe.

Then he saw who had shot him.

William was crying, hot saline globs running down his face.

"You're a monster! You betrayed me! You only cause suffering!" William had said as he drew back another arrow.

"I fell in love with you, William!" Clay had confessed. He was crying now too. William had hesitated, if only for a moment.

"No one could ever love you, demon." He fired the arrow, and it would've struck Clay's heart if he hadn't moved just a bit to the right. But now he had an arrow in each arm as he ran.

"No one could ever love you, d e m o n."

Well, Dream wasn't Clay anymore.

And he would prove him wrong.