Prologue
Things That Go Bump in the Night
They came during the night. The trees whispered secrets to one another as the creatures passed, their roots creaking as they swayed back, seeming to lean away from the oncoming danger. One by one, the crickets stopped their lunar song, becoming as silent and hidden as the moon, which was covered by a never ending mass of black clouds. One wouldn't expect such stealth from beasts such as these- Gwynith knew that she wouldn't have- and yet they managed to move through the dark stillness of shadows, stealing through the black night without even spooking a horse or upsetting a forgotten bucket.
Gwynith started suddenly, a gasp catching in her throat as a soft tremor caused her bed to vibrate slightly. Convinced that it was only her imagination, the girl turned over, pulling her blanket up to her chin for comfort. Dusk, for some reason, has come quickly that night. By mid afternoon, black clouds had come sailing from all corners of the endless sky to block out the the dying sun, sending the small valley into shadow. By the time the moon had risen, nothing could be seen, the land as black as a mountain cave. Even now, as Gwyn settled herself down, attempting to make herself cozy, she could sense that something was amiss.
Never before was the night this silent, this void of even the smallest noise. Tossing and turning restlessly, Gwyn finally sat up, propping herself up on an elbow and gazing around her dark room, unable to make out anything. Why couldn't she shake the feeling that something was wrong?
"This is ridiculous," She muttered, twisting to punch her pillow in annoyance. "I'm just imagining it." And yet, Gwyn still found herself leaning forward, ears straining to catch even the slightest sound. There was nothing; the silence was deafening. Shifting slightly, Gwynith swallowed. No bay of the many dogs that guarded homes at night. No distant laughter or shouts from the pub, of which there was always at least one voice heard in the night. Not even the ever redundant chirp of the crickets could be heart, a song that Gwyn found herself sorely missing. What truly made her bones chill and breath catch in her throat was the utter stillness outside her thatched window. Her family's cow pens, of which she was responsible for looking after, were kept right on the other side- so that every morning Gwynith could open her window to view her charges. Their horses too resided within the penned in area, and could usually be heard snorting or stamping about as they grazed, even at this late hour. It was this reason, Gwyn realized, that was causing the fright to grow in her heart.
Feet coming into contact with the cold ground, Gwyn slipped from her bed, taking care to light a small candle she kept beside it quickly before she padded lightly across the floorboards of her room to the window. She hesitated for a moment, straining once again to hear even the slightest noise over the eery quiet. But there was nothing. Her hands shook as she raised them to the window, long white fingers trembling as she fumbled for the latch that locked the two shutters in place. The clink echoed loudly around the small room as Gwyn unlocked the window. Wincing at her stupidity, Gwyn blinked, eyes narrowing. Just why am I so afraid to make a noise anyways?
It took her half a minute to muster up the courage to push against one of the shutters of her window, squeezing her eyes shut as it creaked open enough for her to poke her head out. An abyss of black swallowed up her gaze, the familiar guidance of the moon's rays lost to the valley. With a shaky breath, Gwyn pushed the window open further, leaning her head out slightly to try and get a glimpse of something- anything. Slowly her eyes scanned the pen- or where she knew to be the pen- over to where the road would be that led deeper into the village, and it was there that she saw it. A single light, far down the road- the familiar lamplight hanging above the tavern door. Gwynith's eyes widened, her heart skipping as the cool, stinging fingers of dread slithered into her heart and down her spine.
In the glare of the lamp a shadow fell, a tall, looming shadow, taller than the houses, nearly as tall of as the trees. And for a moment, Gwyn thought she was in a dream. But her wits knew better. It carried in it's huge right hand a fat cow, in it's left... A hand flew to Gwynith's mouth as she recognized what looked like people, hanging limply in the thing's large hand. The creature swayed back and forth as it lumbered down the road, coming slowly closer and closer to her family's home. Tearing herself from the window, Gwynith turned, panic coursing through her veins. She had to wake her family, had to warn them-
A scream ripped through the night air. Her scream, Gwyn realized. But the horror of what was behind her was just too much. While she had been looking through the window, an arm, huge, larger than a horse and nearly as thick as a fully grown pig, had slunk it's way into her room. It grouped in the darkness, meaty, barrel-like fingers finding her bed and feeling about, searching, searching. Searching for her. Gwyn tripped backwards, fear threatening to bubble up from her lunges in the form of another scream. The window. She could escape from the window.
A huge eye, blinking stupidly, welcomed her horrified gaze as Gwyn whipped back around. The eye peered through the window, looking around for a moment before spotting the girl in the dim glow of the candle. Shrinking back, Gwyn dropped the candle and scrambled until she felt hit the wall, her heart beating a mile a minute as she huddled in the corner of her room. A creaking caught her ears, and with a loud groan the black sky glared down on her as the roof was torn from the house. Gwyn could only gap, breathless in fright as another arm snaked its way from above down into the room, fingers swirling aimlessly as they searched. With a muffled cry Gwyn dodged to the side, barely managing to avoid the greedy, elephant-like hands. Diving for the small wardrobe she kept in her room, Gwyn yanked it open harshly, flinging clothes aside and grabbing what she sought, and not a moment to soon. A hand smashed into the furniture a half second after she'd flung herself to the side, groping for the tiny, warm body it sought. With a panicked grunt, Gwyn pulled an arrow from her quiver, stringing it clumsily before, forcing herself to ignore the flailing arms and groping hands, aiming her hunting bow at the great searching eye still pressed into her window. There was a whisper of wind, a painful thud of her heart, then-
A great roar caused Gwyn to nearly drop her bow in an attempt to shield her ears. Clutching it tighter, she ran to the window, slinging it onto her back before forcing herself through it, bow, quiver, and all. With both weapon and quiver snug on her back, Gwyn's feet hit the ground for a mere second- her thoughts muddled on which way she should run- before something large caught her around her waist. With a cry she thrashed about in a desperate attempt to free herself, but it was no use. The second troll brought the girl up so that she was inches from it's two beady eyes, taking a moment to sniff. It sniffed again, making Gwyn tremble and whimper in fright. Suddenly, the troll spoke.
"Lil' girl, why'eed you haf' to go an' do that too Georgie, eh? Tha' was his only good eye." The troll paused, as if stupidly waiting for a reply. He received none. "Eh, never mind. You smell pre'y good, fetch a lil' more than a small bite, I s'pose."
Surprising even herself, Gwyn swiftly lashed out with her leg, her right foot connecting with the troll's eye. A great scream from the monster caused flecks of spittle to shower Gwyn, And suddenly she was falling, hands grappling in the dark for something, anything, to hold on to. There was another cry, this one more high-pitched, though still filled with the same anguish. Gwyn's face contorted in pain as she felt her right ankle bend unnaturally to the side, nearly fainting from the pain as a loud popping noise resounded in the darkness. Still, the horror of the situation around her propelled her forward. Stumbling, Gwyn half ran, half dragged herself through the legs of the preoccupied troll, running blindly to the one beacon of hope left to her, praying she found it in time. Tears streamed from her eyes the pain was so great. Suddenly, she ran into a huge, furry black mass. Gwyn's hands found Alfie's mane, and without hesitation Gwyn summoned her remaining strength to pull herself up onto the horse's back, gripping his mane for support as her ankle throbbed. A roar of anger behind her propelled Gwyn's kick that, coupled with her terror-filled shouts, sent the stallion surging into a full-on gallop. The horse cleared the pen fence moments before a troll smashed it to pieces, galloping hard towards the only place left to escape- the forest.
Clutching her horse's neck tightly, Gwyn willed Alfie to go faster, listening as he crashed into the undergrowth of the forest, trampling it as he raced, fright hastening his steps. Everywhere she looked, Gwyn could see the shadows of giants, the great, groping hands of the trolls. Behind her, there was no noise, no sound alerting her that the trolls were pursuing them. In truth, the beasts, for all their stupidity, had decided not to waste the time it would take to chase after the escaping meal- their haul was plentiful as it was.
Gwyn cried out loudly as her injured ankle was jostled, the pain causing her head to spin, faster and faster, until all she could see was darkness.
*~WE~MUST~AWAY,~ERE'~BREAK~OF~DAY~*
It was the steady movement beneath her that brought Gwyn to consciousness, yet the angry throbbing of her ankle is what truly woke her. Floating to the surface of dark unconsciousness, Gwyn blinked blearily, her gaze to the floor as she lay against Alfie. She saw nothing, her blurry vision making out only colors of green and brown, and the steady back and forth movement of Alfie's hooves as he plodded along. Without thinking, Gwyn stretched, flexing first from shoulders all the way down to her toes. A harsh pain suddenly lanced through her, erupting at her foot and slithering all around her ankle, all the way up to her knee and beyond. Moaning loudly, Gwyn collapsed back onto Alfie's neck, fingers tangled in his dark mane, pulling fistfuls of hair out as her ankle burned white hot.
After a minute of gasping for breath, Gwyn took a long, shaking gulp of air before weakly lifting her head from her horse's neck in an attempt to see where they'd wandered to. The sun glared blindingly down into her dilated eyes, causing Gwyn to groan and flinch away, repositioning her head to the other side of Alfie's neck, barely able to hold herself up. With every step or small movement her ankle pulsed painfully, the agony causing Gwyn to wince and her vision to go in and out of focus- she could barely see ten feet in front of her.
A branch snapping brought Gwyn's eyes flashing upwards, her head raising slightly in the direction of the noise. Her heart sped up, beating against her chest loudly and painfully. Terror shot through her, but between the burning pain of her ankle and the confusion clouding her mind, Gwyn couldn't remember what her body thought was so frightening. Her brain told her that she should be fleeing, spurring Alfie into a gallop and escaping... But her mind refused to remember from what she was supposed to be escaping from. Where she was and why, the pain in her ankle- all of it, Gwyn found she could hardly remember. Murky thoughts, shadows, whispers of thoughts, skirting just out of reach. No, Gwyn couldn't remember... And wasn't sure she really wanted to.
As Gwyn attempted to focus her gaze, she began to realize where she was. A wood. Her eyes scanned the trees slowly, taking twice as long to identify what she was looking at. The noise had come in the direction of... Gwyn squinted, after a moment making out a mass of bushes. A whispering drew her cloudy vision to the right, and suddenly Gwyn was staring at a figure- no, two figures. The whispering stopped abruptly, time seeming to slow as Gwyn struggled to focus on them. Dimly she noted that the men before her were rather short, but perhaps it was because the distance between them, or that she was upon Alfie, or maybe that she was fairly disoriented. Gwyn considered all these options not only likely, but probable.
She blinked, losing some of the fog that swirled before her eyes for a brief moment as the man the on left, dark haired and with a small beard (if one could really call it that) took a hesitant half step forward, shrugging off his blond (more adequately bearded) companion. He called something to her, but his words sounded slow and jumbled. Gwyn stared, blinking slowly and squinted as she listened as the blond began to mutter something to his companion. The other argued something back, and it was in that moment that Alfie halted suddenly, and for no reason other than the fact that horses do as they please, when they please it. Gwyn's ankle caught on a thin, small tree as he did so. Eyes flying open, her mouth gaped in a silent scream as her body contorted with pain.
Gwyn's gaze wandered, somehow finding the strange men again. Locking eyes with the dark haired one, Gwyn felt fatigue and pain clash within her, meshing together and taking over, shoving her back into the black abyss as she slid from her horse. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.
Review if you like! I've been so obsessed with this movie over the past few weeks that I just had to write something ;P