The Paleman

The sunlight rose over the horizon, carefully stretching the shadows of the room as the ageing man pondered. Teddy’s lined eyes glanced over at the young Paleman who lay limp on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were open but unseeing, unobstructed but dull and sunken. Comatose.

     The quiet of the room made Teddy uncomfortable. Knowing the people of the town were out tracking these things down and hearing the violence taking place outside was too much of a contrast. He adjusted his stance, rubbing his stiff back with one hand while using the other to lean against the wall and keep himself upright, and finally took the time to inspect the younger.

    His lips were a dark colour, reminding Teddy of the plums that once grew in his mother’s window box, and the dark circles around his eyes were that of the same. His skin was pale of course, a sickly blue when the light hit him right, while his limbs were spindly. Carrying him hadn’t been much of an issue so he couldn’t weigh much of anything, otherwise Teddy would be downing sedatives to soothe his back pain.

    The boys clothes were neat enough, though dirty now the night was over. A cream dress shirt and brown trousers with a matching waistcoat adorned his rag doll-like form, but no shoes. Had somebody stolen them? Teddy scoffed. He wouldn’t put that kind of behaviour past the residents of the area but... if somebody had taken the time and the opportunity to steal his shoes, why hadn’t they just killed him?

    The greying man had many questions that might never be answered. How had this come to pass? Why him? How was he supposed to explain harbouring a Paleman in his home?

     “Damn,” he muttered, pushing himself away from his spot and into a wooden chair across from his bed. The wood creaked quietly under his weight just as the Paleman’s foot jerked. Had Teddy elicited that response? Slowly tilting in his seat, he watched the boy’s fingers twitch as the wood groaned. “So you can hear me,” he whispered, resting his elbows on his knees, “can you hear me?”

    Teddy could feel the tension in his bones as he swallowed, but no response came that time. The old man was almost glad of that. “What am I supposed to do with you? What happens if you don’t come ‘round?” Rubbing his weary eyes, Teddy sighed a deep defeated sigh and allowed them to close. The night had beaten him and fatigue was corrupting his hectic mind.

    Gentle snores filled the otherwise quiet room as the Paleman’s eyes, that had been sightlessly glazed not moments prior, finally blinked.

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
11/02/2018