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The Harmless Mixture of Torment II | Short Story

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The grass was whispering with a subtle but noticeable rhythm. Its voice was soft and light, but from time to time, a screech tore through the tranquility. Nathaniel was tottering forward in a trance. His step were light, and he was wobbling in congruence with the rhythm of the forest. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his mouth was wide open. It’s been a while since the last time he heard a frightening scream. He forgot about it already.

Rabbits scurried across the variegated fields of flowers. They danced around him. Their black eyes staring at him, reflecting back at him the worst within his soul. He saw everything he didn’t want to see. Anger. Fury. Regret. He saw himself lifting a club. Was it himself? Or his attacker? The club grew larger. It grew spikes.
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