Title: Der Erlkönig

Author: LM Simpson (Kady the Red Panda)

Pairing(s): none

Rating: K+

Warning(s): language, character death

Disclaimer: This is a MA fanfic inspired by Goethe's poem "Der Erlkönig." These characters ain't mine. Nuh uh… Neither are the two stanzas from the literal translation of Herr Goethe's poem. Nuh uh…

Other tidbits: Ich bin eine Studentin, dass groß Langeweilen und Depression haben. Genießen Sie, bitte, meine Geschichte. (Und verzeihen Sie mir, bitte, für mein schlecht Deutsch.)

0000

Who rides, so late, through night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He has the boy well in his arm
He holds him safely, he keeps him warm.

Zob cursed as Greta's cell phone went to its message machine for the third time. His right fingers fumbled to locate the correct phone number again as his left hand maneuvered the steering wheel. Sometimes his eyes focused on the road, as the wipers knocked raindrops from the windshield, while other times he checked on the slumped over boy in the seat beside him.

Of all the nights for Zick to have a 106 temperature, the night where Greta was off at a florist convention had to be the one. It was late November and yet the car's air conditioner was on teeth-chattering full blast. A half-full water bottle was in the cupholder on Zick's side.

Three other cars were in front of the vehicle as Zob stopped at a red light. Of all the nights for Zick to need to get to a hospital as soon as possible, it had to be Saturday night, when Bigburg's streets bustled with club goers, and a rainy one at that. But as much as he wanted to just slam on the gas and speed through everyone, he still had to follow the rules. It already took a ton of persuading to Jeremy that he needed to get Zick to a hospital as fast as possible. And an arrest for reckless driving wouldn't exactly make getting a job any easier, even if he was just trying to get his kid to the damn hospital.

The phone vibrated in Zob's hand. He immediately answered the phone.

Zick could sense that his father was talking to someone, but he was too dizzy to comprehend what the conversation was about. All he knew was that he was extremely hot, extremely thirsty, and extremely tired. His head propped against the chilled car window, all he noticed was blurs of neon lights from nightclubs and the insides of late-night shops. That was, until he saw the black Gorka outside, as vivid as everything else would've been if he was hale and well. His dry throat closed to the point he could only whimper as a clammy hand covered his face.

"Zick?" Zob asked after hanging up. "What's wrong, son?"

Zick's throat pained as his mouth opened and inhaled cold air. His father uncapped the water bottle and poured some lukewarm water down his throat.

"Thanks, Dad," Zick rasped. He was still hiding his face.

"Zick? Just what are you trying to hide from?"

"Don't you see that Gorka outside?" Zick reached towards the bottle's mouth to drink more like a baby on a bottle.

Alarmed, Zob scanned the area right outside Zick's window. The closest thing to a Gorka he spotted was a huge neon green logo for a hookah parlor.

Ah.

"Oh, don't worry, Zick. There isn't a Gorka outside. It's just a neon sign, and nothing more. Just try to drink some more water. We'll get to the hospital faster than you can say 'gingi on a hot tin roof…'"

I hope…

Zick was too tired to retort that he didn't see a green Gorka. Besides, his father was most likely right; he was probably hallucinating from his fever. After all, who ever heard of a black Gorka? There wasn't one in the Tamer's manual the last time he leafed through it.

The bottle was three quarters empty when the car behind them honked repeatedly. Zob put the bottle back into the cupholder before continuing on to the hospital.

Aside from the rain, the windshield wipers, and Zick's labored breathing, all was quiet.

Zick's mind conjured himself into a room of darkness. The closest thing to light was that he could see his hands in front of his face.

What the—

A voice interrupted his comment. It was definitely male, but it definitely wasn't his father's voice. It sounded European, most likely German or Dutch. Heck, maybe even Danish. All of those languages sounded the same to him.

"I know you must be tired, dear child!" It whispered in an echo surrounding Zick's head. "But we must get going!"

He suddenly felt dizzy. Although he didn't recognize the voice, he had the compulsion to obey. Where are we going? Zick's subconscious asked.

"You'll find out in no time. Come with me, and your life will be full of nothing but joy!"

How would it?

"You want to be a normal child, am I correct, dear child?"

He heard his father call out his name…. but he didn't detect Dad's presence in the void.

Yeah. How did you know that?

"I know everything about you, my child. I have watched over you my entire life. Come with me, and you'll never have to worry about bullies, or homework, or monsters eating your shoes, ever again!"

Never again? Zick smirked. Yeah, not having to worry about all those things would be so great… But—

Can Elena come along too?

He felt a hand clasp around his own. Looking down, it was one of a peer's.

"Of course I'm coming too!" He heard Elena's voice say. "You would have to have a screw loose to think I would let you go without me!"

A bright light formed in the distance. Even with the vivid light, he still only saw Elena's hand.

He detected Elena moving forward. "Come on, Zick! We gotta go over there!"

He heard his father call his name again, and then for a third time. Suddenly he wasn't dizzy, but wondering what he had just agreed to do.

His arm jerked. She still grasped his hand. Wait! What are you doing? How do you know this is safe?

Elena kept pulling him towards her. "I just know it is!"

He struggled more. No! How do I know you're not trying to do something to me? And how can I be sure you're Elena?

Elena stopped. Her voice progressively shifted from a high young girl's voice to a low Danish man's voice.

"Zick, my dear child, I just wanted to make your trip a more pleasant one. But you keep resisting me. So I'm going to need to take you with me… By force."

A plump human girl's hand was no longer in his own, but a spiderly thin fingered black Gorka's. Zick screeched as he fought harder than ever to pull away. You will not let go, dear child. Let go and something really bad will happen to you. Scream all you want, but you will not let go.

That same dizzy feeling happened again. He felt he had no choice but to obey. He allowed the Gorka to pick him up and carry him like a newborn baby without any protest.

Zick heard Zob calling his name more and more desperately, like as if he knew his son was captured by a Gorka. Unable to escape the black Gorka, Zick let out a final moan. He could only watch as the white light from the distance got brighter, and brighter, and brighter…

Zob stopped the car right outside the emergency room's entrance. He called out Zick's name again.

"Zick! Zick! Wake up! Zick! You're having a nightmare! Come on, you gotta wake up!" He begins tearing up in frustration. "Dammit! We're at the hospital! Please, wake up!..."

He shook Zick's shoulder until he noticed his son was limp and turning blue.

….

It horrifies the father; he swiftly rides on,
He holds the moaning child in his arms,
Reaches the farm with trouble and hardship;
In his arms, the child was dead.