Wood Demon - Chapter 10
Chapter 10: Whispers in the Dark and Rising Power
Two weeks. Fourteen sunless nights of navigating the treacherous dynamics of the Spider ‘Family,’ fourteen sun-drenched days spent in secret communion with ‘Woody Jr.’, his arboreal benefactor. Jack’s unlife had settled into a bizarre, two-faced rhythm. By night, he was the reluctant ‘Older Brother,’ a role he played with a carefully curated blend of feigned obedience to Rui and wary distance from the others. He’d perfected a non-committal grunt that seemed to satisfy the spider-faced Father, offered the terrified Mother fleeting, sympathetic glances when Rui wasn’t looking, and exchanged increasingly frequent, though always hushed and furtive, words with Saya.
The atmosphere in the dilapidated, web-choked house remained as oppressive as a tomb. Rui’s cold, demanding presence dictated every interaction, every silence. The fear was a tangible entity, coiling in the shadows, clinging to the inhabitants like the ever-present cobwebs. Jack learned to read the subtle shifts in Rui’s moods, the almost imperceptible tightening of his threads that heralded displeasure, the chilling stillness that often preceded a display of cruel power.
But when the first, faint rays of dawn threatened the horizon, forcing the other demons into the lightless depths of the house, Jack would make his escape. With the stealth of a shadow and the aid of his `Root Sense`, he’d navigate the treacherous paths of Mount Natagumo to his secluded grove. There, pressed against Woody Jr.’s ancient bark, he would draw life, his demonic system greedily converting the tree’s solar-powered essence into precious EXP.
The levels came with a speed that was both exhilarating and slightly alarming.
`Level Up! You are now Level 23!`
`Blood Demon Art: Plant – [Camouflage Carapace (Basic)] unlocked. (Cover self with bark and leaves for basic visual camouflage).`
“Camouflage Carapace?” Jack had mused, testing it out by covering his arm in a surprisingly convincing layer of bark. “So I can literally become a walking, talking tree? Or at least, a very convincing garden statue. Subtle. I like it. Perfect for those moments when you want to blend in and avoid, say, a rampaging Lower Moon with a thread fetish.”
`Level Up! You are now Level 25! Halfway to fifty! Which probably means absolutely nothing in demon terms!`
`Level Up! You are now Level 28! Feeling stronger. Maybe soon I can graduate from ‘slightly concerning houseplant enthusiast’ to ‘genuinely alarming botanical menace’. My menacing aura might even reach ‘mildly disquieting’ levels.`
The day he hit Level 30 was a significant milestone. The surge of power was palpable, a deep thrumming resonance within his demonic core that felt cleaner, more potent than ever before.
`Level Up! You are now Level 30!`
`Overall demonic power substantially increased. Your control over botanical energies has reached a new plateau.`
`New Ability Unlocked in Blood Demon Art: Plant – [Siphoning Tendrils]. You can now generate woody tendrils from your body or existing plant matter under your control, capable of piercing targets and siphoning fluids (blood, water, vital essences).`
Jack stared at the System notification, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Siphoning Tendrils, huh?” he said to Woody Jr., who remained stoically silent as ever. “Sounds… intriguingly vampiric, but with significantly more splinters. So I can literally tap into things now? Like a demonic, multi-purpose, tentacled juice-box straw?”
He cautiously experimented, extending a thin, flexible woody tendril from his palm. It was about the thickness of his finger, surprisingly agile, and tipped with a needle-sharp point. He guided it towards a large, fleshy fungus growing on a nearby fallen log, a plant he’d already ‘cataloged’. The tendril pierced its cap with ease. He focused, willing it to draw, and felt a cool, earthy liquid – mostly water, with some fungal essences – flow up the tendril and into him. It wasn’t nearly as potent as Woody Jr.’s direct energy, but the System chimed with a measly `[+1 EXP]`.
“Well, it’s not exactly a five-star meal, EXP-wise,” he commented, retracting the tendril. “But the applications are… interesting. And a little gross.” A darker thought flickered: this could, in theory, be a way to obtain blood if he were ever truly desperate, a method less savage, more controlled than his first horrific feeding. He pushed the thought away with a shudder. No. Woody Jr. was his lifeline. This new ability, he decided, would be primarily for drawing water for any plants he cultivated, or perhaps for himself if fresh water was scarce. Or maybe, just maybe, for some very specific, non-lethal defensive applications. “Definitely not for making horrifying human smoothies,” he vowed quietly.
His clandestine interactions with Saya were also evolving, deepening from fleeting, terrified whispers into something more akin to actual conversation, always conducted in the deepest shadows of the night, always under the suffocating threat of Rui’s discovery. She had, on a few precious occasions when they were truly alone, deactivated her Rui-imposed Flesh Transformation, revealing her stunning true form. Each time, Jack found himself momentarily breathless, his usual sarcastic banter faltering in the face of such ethereal, natural beauty.
“You know,” he’d told her one night, after she’d shyly reverted to her true, dark-haired appearance in the secluded corner of his tattered room, “every time you do that, I’m half convinced I’ve accidentally stumbled into a dream. A really, really nice dream, admittedly, one that’s a significant upgrade from the usual spider-infested nightmare I call my unlife.”
A rare, genuine smile would grace her lips. “You say foolish things, Jack.”
“It’s a gift,” he’d replied with a grin. “Or possibly a curse. The jury’s still out. But hey, at least I’m consistently foolish.”
He learned more about her in those stolen moments. Snippets of her long, sorrowful existence, centuries spent under Rui’s thumb, the endless cycle of fear and forced obedience. He, in turn, shared carefully edited, vague stories of his “previous life,” painting a picture of a world so different from this one it might as well have been another dimension – which, he supposed, it was. His humor, dark and cynical as it often was, seemed to be a strange kind of solace for her, a momentary reprieve from the crushing bleakness.
“So,” he’d said once, after she’d described a particularly cruel punishment Rui had meted out to the Father, “three hundred and forty-five years of this kind of family drama? Saya, you don’t just deserve a medal; you deserve a goddamn kingdom. Or at the very least, a really, really long vacation. Preferably somewhere tropical, with absolutely no spiders, no webs, and definitely no tyrannical child-demons with disturbing thread obsessions and a penchant for forced family cosplay.”
She’d actually laughed then, a soft, startled sound that was like music in the oppressive silence of their lives. It made Jack’s chest ache with a strange, unfamiliar warmth.
He found himself wanting to protect that fragile sound, that fleeting glimpse of the happy, unburdened woman she might have been. It was this reckless, impulsive desire that sparked an idea, a plan so audacious, so monumentally stupid given their circumstances, that only Jack would have even considered it.
He waited for a night when Rui seemed particularly preoccupied, his attention consumed by some intricate web pattern he was weaving in the main hall, a task that sometimes absorbed him for hours. The Father was out, likely on one of his brutal, mindless hunts. The Mother was, as usual, a trembling shadow in the darkest corner of the house.
Jack found Saya meticulously cleaning a set of Rui’s discarded, bloodied clothes – a task often assigned to her.
“Hey, Saya,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the faint, constant skittering sounds that filled the house. He leaned casually against the doorframe, trying to project an air of nonchalance he was far from feeling. “Hypothetically speaking, if a charming, moderately leveled demon of your acquaintance knew of a place, not too far, very secluded, where something… rather pretty was happening tonight, would you, again, hypothetically, be interested in a brief, highly inadvisable excursion? My treat. No strings attached… literally, in this case, I sincerely hope.”
Saya’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something else – curiosity? “Jack, what are you talking about? If Rui…”
“Rui is currently auditioning for ‘World’s Creepiest Interior Decorator’,” Jack interrupted, his voice still a low murmur. “He’ll be busy for hours. This… this is something I think you might like to see. Just for a little while. A brief escape from… all this.” He gestured vaguely at the grim, web-covered surroundings. “Come on. Live a little. Or, you know, unlive a little. Dangerously.” He offered his most charming, slightly lopsided grin, the one that had, on rare occasions in his previous life, actually worked.
After a heart-stopping moment of hesitation, Saya nodded, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement. The risk was enormous, but the lure of something different, something Jack was offering, was too strong.
With the stealth of ghosts, they slipped out of the oppressive house, Jack leading the way, his `Root Sense` and knowledge from his daily explorations guiding them through the moonlit, web-choked paths of Natagumo. He led her to a small, hidden glade he’d discovered a few days prior, a place shielded by thick trees and rocky outcrops, far from any regularly patrolled areas.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and terror. She obeyed, her trust in him a heavy, precious weight.
“Alright, Mother Nature, let’s team up with your friendly neighborhood demonic horticulturist,” Jack muttered to himself, taking a deep breath. “Time for ‘Jack’s Pop-Up Incandescent Flower Emporium and Temporary Respite from Existential Terror and Spider-Related Tyranny’! Admission is free, but compliments to the artist are… well, they’re not mandatory, but they are appreciated.”
He focused, drawing on his connection to Woody Jr., on the botanical knowledge stored in his System, on his `Blood Demon Art: Plant`. He pictured the Moonpetal Moss he’d cataloged, its soft, ethereal glow. He imagined night-blooming jasmine, their scent intoxicating. He visualized delicate, bell-shaped flowers he’d once seen in an old Earth botany book, now infused with a touch of his demonic energy to make them luminesce.
With a series of silent, focused commands, his power flowed. The ground around them seemed to sigh. Tiny Moonpetal Moss patches began to glow on the rocks and tree trunks, like scattered constellations. From the earth, slender stems unfurled, bearing thousands of delicate, night-blooming flowers – blues, silvers, soft lavenders – each one emitting a soft, gentle light, their combined radiance transforming the dark glade into an ethereal, magical grotto. He even coaxed a few pliant vines, `Entangling Roots` used with finesse, to weave intricate, arching patterns overhead, from which more glowing blossoms hung like tiny, living lanterns.
“Okay,” he finally said, his voice a little breathless from the effort. “You can open your eyes now, Saya.”
She did. And the gasp that escaped her lips was all the compliment Jack needed. Her eyes, wide with an almost childlike wonder, reflected the myriad soft lights of the glowing flora. She turned slowly, taking in the breathtaking spectacle, her hand rising to cover her mouth. The constant fear that usually shadowed her features was replaced by pure, unadulterated awe.
“Jack…” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “It’s… it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Not bad for a ‘Lower Rank Demon’ with a plant hobby, huh?” Jack said softly, a proud, warm feeling spreading through his chest. “Think of it as… aggressive beautification. My small contribution to making this nightmare mountain slightly less nightmarish, one glowing petal at a time.”
He gently plucked a single, perfectly formed Moonpetal blossom, its soft blue light pulsing gently, and offered it to her. She took it with trembling fingers, cradling it as if it were the most precious jewel in the world.
They sat together in silence for a long time, surrounded by the thousands of softly glowing flowers, the only sounds the gentle sigh of the night wind and their own quiet breaths. The oppressive atmosphere of the Spider House felt a million miles away. Here, in this hidden, incandescent sanctuary, there was only peace, and a fragile, shared beauty.
Then, Saya began to cry. Softly at first, then with more abandon, tears tracing silver paths down her cheeks in the magical light.
Jack panicked slightly. “Hey, hey, no waterworks unless they’re happy waterworks,” he said gently, awkwardly reaching out as if to pat her shoulder, then thinking better of it. “Which… I’m really, really hoping these are? Did I accidentally make a tragically beautiful flower that induces sudden-onset existential angst? Because that’s usually my department, and I thought I was going for ‘pretty and calming’ tonight.”
Saya shook her head, a watery smile breaking through her tears. “No, Jack,” she choked out. “They’re… they’re happy tears. It’s just… it’s been so long since I saw anything truly beautiful. Since anyone… did something kind. Just for me.”
The raw honesty in her voice hit Jack harder than any physical blow. He sat beside her, a comfortable silence falling between them, simply sharing the moment, the light, the brief, stolen peace. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated connection, fragile and precious, a tiny beacon against the overwhelming darkness of their existence.
Too soon, the first hint of pre-dawn chill began to creep into the air. The magical interlude had to end. “We should… we should probably get back,” Jack said reluctantly, the words heavy. “Before Lucifer Junior notices his favorite ‘sister’ and his newest ‘brother’ are missing and decides to redecorate the house with our entrails.”
Saya nodded, wiping her eyes, but the radiant afterglow of happiness still lingered on her face. She clutched the Moonpetal blossom tightly.
They snuck back into the oppressive gloom of the Spider House just as the faintest hint of grey was touching the eastern sky, their hearts still full of the secret, glowing glade. Saya seemed a tiny bit lighter, a spark of resilient hope rekindled in her eyes, though the ever-present fear of Rui returned as soon as they were back within those cursed walls.
Jack felt a profound sense of satisfaction, a warmth that had nothing to do with absorbed EXP. He had done something good, something beautiful, in this ugly, violent world. But with it came the acute awareness of the heightened risk. His feelings for Saya, this fragile, dangerous affection, were deepening. And in Rui’s kingdom of fear and forced, twisted bonds, that was the most perilous thing of all.