Carry On, My Devil Son

by S. Morgenstern

"In a period of much suffering and pain, where families lost their members for hunger, all the blame fell on the most infamous of all. And in Scotland, the only person who supposedly could do such witchcraft, was the terrible witch who lived in the forest, the cruel Salene." But nobody knew that Sally had a devil son.

Carry On, My Devil Son

Scotland, 1317

A hooded figure wove its way in the shadows of a forest. It was late at night, cold almost unbearable. The figure ran, driven by desire, no, by the need to return home. The howl of a wolf didn't alarm her, because she was accustomed to hear that howl and never be attacked. In her bare and cold hands, she held a leather pouch with all the food she had achieved.

There were difficult times in Europe. A crisis that ran faster than bad news for all European people. The furious rains had resulted in terrible crops, and agricultural areas began to be used for the creation and extraction of sheep wool. The hunger raged on every citizen, peasant, Clergy or Nobility, two years ago.

In a period of much suffering and pain, where families lost their members for hunger, all the blame fell on the most infamous of all. And in Scotland, the only person who supposedly could do such witchcraft, was the terrible witch who lived in the forest, the cruel Salene.

But truth be told, Salene, or Sally, as she called herself, was not a witch. She was an ordinary woman, who had the misfortune to be poor and a son to look after. In her desperation to have a home to raise the child, she sought to find an abandoned little cottage in the woods.

Settling there, Sally allowed herself to feel an ounce of relief and warmth after the cold nights. She looked at the little face of her son, thinking that, even in the circumstances of his birth, she loved him more than anything in the world.

Sally created her child in the forest, and she would like say they lived happily for the rest of their lives. But it was not so. Not so, since the boy had opened his eyes to the world. Black eyes, with flames surrounding the pupil that would make anyone would call him a demon. The animals of the forest, so gentle to Sally, looked at her young son as if he were an aberration. The frustration in his little face almost always turned to anger, and his teeth and nails grew sharp.

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

Sally tried her best to ignore it. Her son, her little Percy was so good and kind as she wanted him to be. No matter what he looked like a monster when he was angry, he was a monster just on the outside. Her Percy was beautiful; her reason for living. And Salene would do everything to make him happy, praying that his kindness and innocence were never destroyed by what was outside the bounds of the forest.

Once I rose above the noise and confusion

Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion

I was soaring ever higher

But I flew too high

She was ashamed to fail. The hunger had arrived, the food that Sally stole came running out slowly, the forest animals dying quickly as she was forced to hunt them. There was no solution. Sally was watching, every day, most of the bones of her son was visible through his deathly pale skin, and Percy tried to hide how he was painfully hungry.

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man

Though my mind could think I still was a mad man

I hear the voices when I'm dreaming

I can hear them say

Despite her promise to protect him, Sally watched as Percy suffered with the hunger and the cold of winter, unable to do anything to save her son, whose life was so fragile and vulnerable in such difficult times. And if that was not enough, the worst happened:

Percy was sick.

It was something that Salene had never seen before. The first evidence was when Percy bumped his shoulder into a tree trunk. Mother and son expected the bruise would go away with time, but it didn't. The second evidence was when Percy passed out from the effort of trying to lift his mother when she had tripped and fallen. Then he began to feel a pain in his chest that certainly was not emotional, and coughing up blood as if trying to spit out his lungs.

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

Sally was desperate. It was not hard to guess that her son was dying. He was weaker every day, until it reached the point of not even get up out of bed. Sometimes Percy slept for days, and Sally always feared he would never wake.

Running home, with the only food that she had been able to find, Sally prayed that Percy was still alive. Best, that he never had been sick, and everything was a dream, and he was waiting for his mother with life in his face.

It was stupid to even think about it, because it would never be possible.

Sally finally reached her hut, noting that the only light was shining in Percy's bedroom window. She walked as quietly as she could, squeezing the bag of food against the body in a vain attempt to keep it warm. She climbed the stairs, listening to the creaking floorboards under her feet, biting her lip as she prepared herself for what she would see.

Arriving at Percy's bedroom's door, Sally reached to push it, but hesitated at the voice of her child:

"Oh, hello."

Sally shook terribly with how weak his voice was, and wondered if he was talking to her. Apparently not, because seconds later he said:

"I told thou. I can not goeth with thee." A pause. "No, no. My mother wouldst be very sad." Silence. "But how wouldst her be okay if I wouldst be dead?"

Sally felt the blood drain from her face. Oh, God. Was Death talking to her son in that room? Had the time come? She was not ready to say goodbye!

She pushed the door hastily, looking around startled to see that there was nobody but her and her son in the room. Sally put her hand on her chest, trying to calm her scared heart , but failed. She had not heard anyone talking to her son, but she doubted he was crazy. Does Death was visible to anyone who was close to die?

"Mommy?" Came a low voice from behind her, and Salene turned.

Laying on small wooden bed, Percy looked as bad as he was looking before she left. The night was cold, but his hair, which was black as pitch and reached the jaw line, stuck to his face with sweat. Excluding his face flushed with fever, his skin was pale like a corpse, and Salene could see every bone through it. His lips, which had lost the shade of pink they once had, were dry, cracked and bloodstained. His thin chest rose and fell slowly under the thin blanket, the air passing hissing through his teeth. Seemed a chore just keeping his eyes open, but he did it to try to see the sad face of his mother.

Percy smiled slightly.

"Hello, Mommy." He whispered, before seeing her expression. "Art thou alright?"

Sally pressed her lips against each other, holding the tears back. No mother should have to go through that. See her child die slowly before her eyes, when all that mattered was for the boy was if she was alright. Oh, my little Percy...

She forced herself to smile.

"Of course, dear." Sally sat beside him on the bed, gently point her palm on his little pale forehead, with the feeling that just a single touch could hurt him. "Oh, mine loveth, thou art hot. Waiteth a moment. "

Sally walked to the wooden table that was leaning against the other wall of the small room, and grabbed a bowl made of clay with water inside. She also took the old cloth that rested side of the bowl, and then returned to sit beside Percy.

Masquerading as a man with a reason

My charade is the event of the season

And if I claim to be a wise man, well

It surely means that I don't know

She dipped the cloth in the bowl of cold water before putting it on the forehead of her son, who looked at her through the long dark lashes, weak flames in his eyes.

"I am going to die, art not I?" He weakly asked.

Sally's eyes widened and left the cloth on Percy's forehead, grabbing his little bony hand between her own.

"Nay, thou will not." She told him, but it was clear in her tone that she was trying to convince they both. "I am not leaving this happeneth. Thou will geteth better. We will geteth through this. We...

"Mommy." Percy interrupted, squeezing his hand lightly in a comforting gesture. "Pleaseth doeth not lieth to me."

It was at that moment that Sally succumbed under all the weight of all that had happened since she had met Percy's father. Well, technically don't met him, he attacked her. Then Percy's birth, her parents expelling her home, the poverty, house in forest, her monstrous son, the hunger, the accusation of witchcraft, the disease. Everything hit her at once like a wave of the sea she had heard about, and she began to cry.

On a stormy sea of moving emotion

Tossed about like a ship on the ocean

I set a course for winds of fortune

But I hear the voices say

Instantly, she felt Percy's skinny arms around her, pulling her to lie down beside him, whispering in her ear:

"It will be alright, Mommy."

Sally hugged him gently, but firmly, crying even more when she realized that he should not be saying that to her. Should be the opposite. But those were desperate times.

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

She fell asleep there, lying next to her dying son, dreaming of a world they would be happy.

Sally woke up with a bang. Multiple bangs.

She did not know how to react. She knew that was the sound of her door being kicked, someone was entering in her home to probably kill her, and knew it would happen eventually. After all, she was "the cruel witch Salene". With the crisis that were happening, it was a matter of time till people were behind her.

Sally turned her head to Percy. He was still asleep, his cheeks flushed by the fever that seemed to have increased, his thin chest rising and falling much more rapidly than normal. It was obvious he was having difficulty breathing.

Sally breathed deeply and closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart. All she could do was pray for them to have pity and not cause harm to her child. He was just a kid. He had never done anyone any harm.

Just when Sally got up, careful to not wake Percy, the door fell to reveal the townsmen. Sally's heart sank. These were people with whom she had grown up. Old John, Jeremy the butcher, the baker Edward, the English merchant Samuel and Father Lucian. But she had lost them in the moment denied to her parents to get rid of Jimmy.

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more, No!

The expression on their faces was pure shock. They didn't know that Sally had a son. Of course not, her parents left her locked in her room during the nine months of pregnancy, leaving her see anyone but her servant.

Sally raised her hands to show they were empty, moving the body to which be in front of the small and weak figure of Percy, as if that would hide him from malicious eyes of her former neighbors, but she knew it was in vain.

"Doeth what ye wanteth to me." She spoke carefully so to not scare them. "But spareth him, for God's sake. He is just a child. Never done aught to anyone."

The baker bared his yellow teeth at her, like a dog.

"And how doeth we knoweth thou did not selleth his young soul to the Devil, beldams?" He barked. "Thou are bad by nature, Salene, but what wouldst thou not giveth for be moo bad?"

"Quiet, Edward!" Growled Old John. "As much as I hateth to admiteth, Salene is right. The kid did nothing."

Sally tried to hide her smile. John was a friend of her father, and he used to take her around town and buy her dresses and toys. Now, he defended her surreptitiously, and she could not be more grateful.

"Mommy?" Sally turned to her son when he spoke and watched the flames light up slowly in his eyes before they to widen. "Mommy, who art these people? What art they doing hither?"

Sally's heart sank when she saw the look of wonder on Percy's face. She realized that, besides her and himself, Percy had never seen a human. After eight years living alone in the woods, this was the first time he saw a grown man.

The shocked silence made Sally turned around again to her uninvited guests. She hoped that if they looked at Percy, they would see that he was so hungry and sick as they (most, actually) and there wouldn't be Sally causing the hunger, and they would see that even her son was dying.

But what she saw was not expected. The expression on the men's faces was pure horror as they looked into the eyes of her little Percy, eyes so captivating in its flames, but so horrible in his gaunt, pale face.

"I knew it!" Edward grumbled.

Sally's eyes widened when she heard the sound of metal coming from the butcher and raised her hands.

"Nay!" She tried to say. "Pleaseth, waiteth..."

Suddenly, everything stopped. The look of horror from Old John was now turned to Sally. Motivated by his gaze, she looked down at Jeremy's the knife embedded in her belly, feeling strangely numb. Then she looked back at her Percy, whose eyes mirrored Old John's.

"Mommy!" He shouted hoarsely, rising from the bed and ran to her mother with a strength he had not.

Sally dropped to her knees and felt the skeletal arms of her son around her shoulders. And then she was looking at his frightened eyes, but that had frightened many people.

She felt Percy shake, but this time it was not cold or fear. It was pure rage. As she looked at his face, Sally saw turning like it always did when he was angry.

Carry on, you will always remember

Carry on, nothing equals the splendor

Now your life's no longer empty

Surely heaven waits for you

The orange and red that before was just a thin ring grew up taking the entire iris. The white of his eyes darkened to become a macabre black, and his pupil tuned until elliptical like a venomous snake. Rows of white teeth as sharp as razors tightened against each other while he growled in a feral way for men. Sally knew that his fingernails were blackened and turned into claws, and his skin cracked in rows without default on his white skin now was grey.

And the screams began.

"Demon!"

"Monster!"

"Good God!"

"Flee!"

Sally saw everyone running to the door of the small room and close it tightly, just before the slim gray body of her son hit it, exactly where Jeremy was. Percy's black and sharp nails cut the wood like butter, and a monstrous roar left his mouth.

"Percy!" Sally called weakly.

He turned straightaway. His angry expression softened and his eyes, nails, teeth and skin returned to normal along with his physical strength. His knees trembled violently, and he fell to the ground with a thud.

"Mommy." He whispered.

While Percy dragged to try to reach her, Sally realized she was still bleeding profusely, and first noticed black spots in her vision. She blinked against dizziness, and saw her son sitting in front of her, his small hands trembling as he touched his mother's face.

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry

Don't you cry no more!

"Mommy." He kept whispering, tears streaming down his face. Red tears like blood, the same tears he had ever shed when he was sad or scared. "Mommy."

Sally felt her own eyes filled with tears, but not for the great sadness she was feeling as she realized she was dying and soon her son would not have anyone to take care of him. No. Her tears were caused by smoke.

The bastards had flared up her house.

"Percy." Sally said, using her shaky and dirty with blood hands to hold her son's face. "Percy, thoust to goeth. Or we will both die."

"Mom." He repeated again, shaking his head. "Nay, I will not leteth thou. I will not, will not, will not. "

Sally let the tears fall as she looked around at the room made of wood that, probably like the rest of the house, was already on fire. The door was fully engulfed in flames. Her son had no chance of escape now.

She hugged Percy, trying to hold back the sobs. He hugged her back, his little body shaking.

Sally managed to contain the scream that tried to get out of her throat when she felt the heat creep up her back, but Percy did not succeed in this task. The cry that escaped his lips was full of so much pain that Sally had even more like crying. More tears fell from her eyes, and Sally hugged him tightly.

Together, mother and son burned.

They stood there, hugging each other while their home caught fire around them, the flames consuming them too. They felt their clothes and their skin being incinerated, but they suddenly no longer feared. They were not alone. They had each other.

That was all that mattered.

And even when they were only two charred skeletons in the ruins of a small cabin, and the myth of "the cruel witch Salane and her devil son" had been forgotten, it was still all that mattered.

No more!

The End