Solflare: The Painter's Secret-Chapter 37: Two-Headed Dog

After an hour of silence, the tyres of the MRAP rolled over a ten-inch stone and slammed hard on the ground.

Leon jolted awake after his body was thrust against the metal wall of the car.

He shook his head, brushed his hands on his face, then gasped heavily for air.

His eyes widened when he spotted red liquid dressing his palms the moment after he moved it from his scalp.

At that instant, everything felt silent, including the slow raindrops and the rumbling sound echoing from the outside of the car.

"Where from this?" his face tensed as he wiped his palms across his head for the second time.

Noticing another set of red liquid dressing his thumb – where it hadn’t touched – saliva snaked down his throat as he swallowed hard.

"How?" he placed his palms on his head and tilted his gaze around.

Spotting a one-inch sharp metal at the point where his head had slammed, pain surged in him like fire as his breathing caught in his lungs.

Leon hastily whirled himself around, scattering the bags he found at the edges of the tiny space he was in.

His breathing slowed when he spotted a white cloth lying freely behind him after failing to find something in all three black bags.

WHIP

He slashed the cloth in his jet-black hair and stared at it with a frown. "WTF!"

He screamed for breath when he noticed there was no red liquid in the cloth. He tried again, then again, yet no liquid touched the cloth.

But as he whipped his left palm in the same area he’d used the white cloth for an extra two attempts, confusion struck him like lightning.

"How come my palms get drenched in red liquid, but the cloth doesn’t?" he turned his shocked face to the square mirror at the center of the driver’s seat and moved forward.

A throat-clearing sound echoed, causing him to tilt his gaze upward after lowering his head and trying to check through the mirror itself.

"Behave!"

A loud voice echoed from the small Bluetooth speaker fixed at the top-right corner of the room.

Leon chuckled, then moved back to the seat he left behind and clapped his arms together.

’Is this also part of the psychological test, or am I just feeling exhausted?’ he unintentionally whipped his left palm across his face.

Remembering his left palm had also been drenched in the red liquid, he picked up the white cloth and whipped his face twice.

After he placed the cloth beside him, he sighed low, noticing the fabric still didn’t have any sign of red liquid as he imagined.

...

After an hour of sitting idle in the back of the MRAP, the water-dripping sound that echoed died, replaced by a metal creaking sound.

Bright golden light seeped into Leon’s eyes the moment his vision began to clear lazily.

"When did I sleep?" The moment his vision cleared completely, he shook his head as he whispered.

Seeing himself sitting inside the MRAP, which had its back open, the early morning sun’s rays shot through his eyes, causing him to blink.

"You are up already," a voice echoed from beside the outside of the cart, jolting Leon’s attention from the pressing exposure to his right side.

Staring at the man’s face was like staring at the face of a god, or maybe a man without sin.

At that instant, the vehicle seemed to tense under the figure’s gaze, metal panels vibrating slightly, as if acknowledging him.

"Get down,"

Leon felt a magnetic pull toward the figure outside the MRAP, as if the air itself obeyed the man’s presence.

He descended from the MRAP without hesitating for a split second.

Cool air flew across his face, raised his jet black hair, and into his lungs when he closed his eyes and exhaled sharply.

"Follow me,"

Leon’s gut twisted, causing his body to stiffen. He didn’t know this man, yet something deep inside him demanded obedience.

Shadows moved, stretching in a manner that made Leon’s skin crawl, though he saw no one apart from the man he was following.

Stepping into the confines of the door, Leon’s face shimmered with awe as he saw robots moving on the large platform.

But something about the place made his stomach twist; the air seemed too clean and too controlled, like a trap waiting to spring open.

The smile grew wider when he turned to his left and saw butterfly robots flapping their wings and landing on a sunflower.

But when he turned to his right, his body instinctively stumbled to the left. Humanoid beings with long limbs and noses stared back at him, their palms pressing hard on the glass prison they were in.

’What are these?’ he questioned himself when he saw the beings move, following their direction, and yet keeping an eye on him.

When Leon tilted his gaze back to the front, he bumped into the back of Hayes.

"Watch your steps,"

Seeing the man turn hastily and staring at him heavily, two drops of sweat streaked on his temple.

"Sorry sir." Leon lowered his head, clapped his arms together, and pleaded.

"Don’t let what your imagination shows you deceive you!" Hayes’s voice echoed like the only truth.

As soon as Leon lifted his head and stared at the man, he froze.

"Turn to your left again,"

Now, hearing the man’s command was like betting death.

Though he’d freely turned and looked at the butterflies at his left, now his neck stiffened as he tried turning.

His mouth forgot how to breathe when his neck finally permitted him, enabling him to see what he thought to be mechanical butterflies.

A growling sound erupted from Leon’s stomach the moment the two-headed dog with ichor streaking on its face grinned at him.

’NO!’ he screamed in his head as the memory of seeing butterflies earlier stirred whenever his eyes locked with those of the dogs.

He froze.

’Not butterflies – but a two-headed dog, then what will be at the right?’ he paused his thoughts and turned his head slightly toward the direction of the glass prison.

Sweat dropping from Leon’s face doubled as a chill ran through his bones.

"Why not turn to the right and see what’s there also?"

Hayes’s voice echoed, sounding as if promising something good to be at the boy’s right side.

With closed eyes and shaking teeth, Leon shifted his face to his right and waited.

Metal grinding and bone-cracking sounds shot into his ears after not opening his eyes. The smell of blood shot into his nose, suffocating him.