Half Bloods

In the dream, he was back in the forest on Stewart Island. It was the same place where the dingo pack had taken him. The decomposing bodies of the members were strewn around the blood-soaked soil. It looked like they had all been burned and left exposed to the elements for a week. Flies and other bugs were eating away the charred skin to the bone. The putrid smell was horrid and made him want to throw up. Hyeon looked down and saw his clothes were also drenched in blood. The red liquid dripped from his fingertips.

Hyeon stared in horror.

He stepped backward and tripped over a thick tree root. When he fell to the ground, he splashed into a big puddle. The little pool wasn't filled with water, but viscous blood. Hyeon saw his reflection. Wings made of intense fire sprouted from his upper back. They were larger than his height. Although his eyes were shining brightly, they were empty of any emotion.

*Corrupt. Sinful. Wicked,* voices whispered around him. *Purge. Tainted.*

Hyeon covered his face with his hands. It was too much. *Please stop!*

Then, the whispers went away. When he opened his eyes, he was at the small café where he, Haruma, and Shika ate. The locals were going about their business and talking to one another. In a panic, Hyeon patted the spot where the wings were, but they disappeared. No signs of blood either.

"Are you hungry?" a gruff voice asked him. Why does this person sound familiar? Hyeon looked up and saw two individuals sitting with him at the table.

There were two Caucasian men. Both had a heavy frame like an American football player. The one on the left was much older than the other. He had a long grey and white peppered beard and mustache that grew below his collarbone. There were deep crow's feet around his icy blue eyes. Something about him seemed super intense. Hyeon couldn't put a finger on it as to why he felt so intimidated by an old guy. The second man was a spitting image but younger. His yellow hair and beard were shoulder length and his slightly darker blue eyes were kind. Hyeon could imagine him being a protagonist in the Lord of the Rings. Their clothes didn't match their looks, though. The risqué tourist shirts had an Aussie pin-up girl on the front.

"Am I hungry?"

"You tell us. We don't know what you want," the older guy said with a smirk.

"I'm-I'm okay."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged. A waitress coincidentally delivered two big plates of stacked pancakes and coffee mugs. Fresh steam from the fluffy circles wafted into the air. They began shoving the food into their mouths as if they haven't eaten in days. The younger man chugged down the piping-hot coffee. "Whoever created this cursed drink deserves to be blessed in the heavens."

*What a weird thing to say.*

"Who are you?" Hyeon questioned.

The elderly man said in between bites, "Do you remember us? We've been trying to contact you for quite some time."

"You have? When?"

Suddenly, all three were in a grocery store. Hyeon had to steady himself upright since his chair disappeared. The brandless, yellow packages on the shelves almost blinded him. He recognized the store as Fresh Co. from Canada.

"Does this look familiar?" he said.

Hyeon vaguely remembered. It was one of the many dreams he had while in a coma. They had shown him a picture of a curved knife on a flip phone. Before, their faces were blurred but he was able to see their features this time. "A little, but wasn't it all a dream?"

Again, the scene abruptly changed. They were back at the café. He 'OOFED' at the impact of sitting down again.

"Technically yes, it was a dream. It's how we communicate with others. It'd be easier to meet face-to-face in the human realm, but your current location in the southern lights makes it quite…difficult," the blonde explained.

Something didn't feel right. It made Hyeon suspicious. "How do you know where I am? And you still haven't told me who you are."

"Unlike you, we are not dýrs. We can't shift into an animal. Rather, we're demigods. In other words, half-human and half-god since our mother was human and our father is a god. This ancient fart is Calais and one of my older brothers. I'm Galen."

*Wait, there are half-gods, too?!*