AN: I really appreciate all the reviews! Before anyone asks, yes, I am Jewish as well so steeping in some history alongside some gothic horror always seems like a good idea. And if you have any questions you want to ask me directly, feel free to do it on my tumblr, TallestSilver . tumblr . com. You really help motivate me to write this! THANK YOU!
Erik scrambled away from the glow of the bakery as quickly as his legs would allow, but not breaking out into a full run. As the tree growth thickened, he slowed down to a walk.
"Villagers never trek into the woods after nightfall," he told himself, true to anywhere. Lots of creatures lived in the woods and he was no stranger to wild animals. Erik felt like he was more akin to them than to the rest of humanity.
His shoes crunched through the wooded area, snowflakes falling more rapidly and sticking to the ground more readily. It would be a freezing night, but again, nothing he was unaccustomed to. He gripped his long coat and thrust his hands into his pockets, his violin case strapped to his back. His mask continued to rub uncomfortably against his face with each breath and he scowled at the increasing irritation.
'Well, no one is around…' A passing thought of some poor soul lost in the woods seeing his horrific face made for a potential situation he would rather not endure, but the likelihood of finding someone out here, even on a full moon night, was miniscule.
He slung the violin case forward and gently placed it on the ground, unlatching the buckles as he removed his mask. As quickly as he could manipulate the mask to put it on, his movements were languid and hesitant to remove it. His breath was slow and measured, trying to maintain poise. Erik used his fingertips to delicately remove the strings and lift the edges from his face. His features were struck with the biting cold and the open sores beat with his heart, but already the raw pain had lessened. The icy air steadily brought welcomed relief. He clicked the case shut once its added cargo was safely stored.
He gripped the wooden case and continued his march through the woods to find a more comfortable place to rest for the night. He eyed the trees that surrounded him; they were too tall, too narrow- 'not too unlike me,' he thought - to climb easily. The delicately falling snow would prove to be too slippery to try and climb, even if the branches were within his reach.
Dead leaves still scattered the forest floor, their trees left bare and straight. Erik kicked a pile together and nestled into his makeshift bed. Undoubtedly he would find little creatures roosting underneath the leaves for protection, but what was a few arachnid associates to one so spidery as him?
Erik wasn't tired, but he most assuredly was weary of walking in the cold. As long as the snow kept falling, the temperature would continue to drop. He knew it was a fool's errand to maintain wanderings in such frigid temperatures. He sat down against a sturdy tree and buried his long legs underneath the fallen leaves, already succumbing to decay. Erik grimaced. Had he a nose, it would have wrinkled in disgust. He could not help his outward appearance, but he did try and maintain a pleasant fragrance -or at least a neutral one. Rotting leaves did not contribute to his hygienic tendencies.
The snow began to tinge the dark wood with white, a salt-and-pepper speckled look. Erik set about the task of inspecting his irritated face. He withdraw a trusty knife from his pocket, and using the blade, angled it to look at his face as minimally as possible. He caught the moonlight just right and revealed a mass of angry, red welts.
A small cry of astonishment left his lips as his fingertips brushed against the swollen bumps. They were scattered around his mask line, forehead, and what passed for his cheeks. A few were inflamed with the very tips white with pus. He prodded one of the white capped pustules and it burst, oozing white fluid leaked from the fleshy volcano. Erik wiped the mess from his face with the back of his hand. Blood smeared across his pale skin and he whimpered.
"Erik's ugliness is growing," his voice quivered and cracked, which made him all the more miserable. Tears began leaking from his yellow eyes as he hurriedly pressed clean snow into the open wound he created to ease the flush he felt. The melting powder mingled with the hot tears that began freely falling from his face, making the poor boy feel more hot with crimson. His nasal cavity puffed with air as he became more and more upset with every passing second.
"Erik's one beautiful thing is-hic-no longer beautiful," he said aloud, his quavering lamentations interrupted with hiccups, "and his face-hic-grows more and more-hic-revolting! He will-hic-be a pockmarked mons-hic-trosity with nothing to re-re-redeem him!" He wailed, flopping his face down into the snow and sobbing hysterically. His fists beat against the ground, hitting a rock, which swiftly eased his temper-tantrum.
He swallowed large gulps of air, trying to calm himself down, but his nose-hole was already leaking lacrimal liquid making his face a wet mess. He reached into his coat to remove his handkerchief to clean his mess, but his fingers found nothing. Only then did he realize his handkerchief was left with Erzsebet. Lacking the scrap of cloth, he wiped his messy face hastily with the back of his sleeve, mucus and tears smearing in a trail on the wool.
"Monsters are scary," he mumbled hoarsely, "monsters are unlovable. Erik is a monster."
His eyes and cheeks ached. The hole in his face continue to leak. He sniffed and swallowed back the mucus, but it continued to drain. His hiccups continued to interrupt his breathing as he eased back down from his emotional outburst. He stared out into the woods absentmindedly as his fingers sought out his knife and nimbly manipulated it between them, making the small piece of metal disappear and reappear with his sleight of hand.
"Erik is a monster," he mumbled once again, thinking of his beautiful, awful mother screaming those words at him and making him repeat them over and over again.
But how beautiful she was…
With one last sigh, his hiccups left him, and he pocketed his knife. Erik was finally numb to the cold, numb to his face, and numb to his feelings. The mask of indifference had washed over him, and he simply acted as if he hadn't had an emotional outburst.
That was until something was staring back at him from the woods.
Erik immediately focused on a shadow coming from in between the narrow trees. A large, black wolf bristled its fur and a deep, growl emanated from its throat. Its yellow teeth were bared, fleks of saliva dribbled off of them and onto its wide lips.
Erik leapt to his feet, never breaking eye contact from the apex predator. With a large paw, it took one slow step toward Erik, and he took one slow step backward. His hands were splayed behind him, to feel any impediatements that would get in his way of escaping. The wolf was large, its shaggy fur on end, ears pointed directly at Erik.
"Nice wolf…" Erik said with a much calmer voice than he felt, "easy boy," he spoke as though he was speaking with a dog rather than a much larger, more terrifying version of one.
The wolf gnashed its teeth with a threatening bark. For a moment, they regarded each other. Tension was thick in the air and fear flooded Erik when he could sense what would happen next; simultaneously they moved. The wolf jumped. Erik threw himself to the side to avoid the pounce of the beast. He scrambled to his feet and bolted as fast as his skinny legs could carry him. The wolf barked after its prey and began the chase.
Erik wove between the trees, trying to shake off the monster that chased him. Bare bushes and brambles reached out and tore at him, snagging his clothes and providing little slashes as he pushed through. He never looked back, but could feel the wolf just paces behind him.
Gnashing and snarling teeth were just behind him; Erik knew he could not let up. The landscape was a blur of branches and tall black stripes. Erik could barely sense the ground below him, he just knew he had to keep moving forward as fast as he could.
His foot stubbed against an outcropping of rock and Erik skidded into a gully, mud caked his back and he tucked his limbs into himself. He clutched at his legs, pressing them into his chest to make himself as small as possible, hiding against the rocks. His entire body trembled as the wolf leapt overhead and continued bounding away.
Erik finally could hear his own breathing, he had grown deaf to everything else but the sound of the wolf. He was violently shaking, unable to control his own adrenaline, when he realized the wolf was heading straight into town. And the nearest house was…
His eyes flashed in the dim light and he scrambled up out of the gully, despite sliding down and losing a foothold several times. He gave a sharp whistle with his fingers, the first time just a puff of sharp air because he trembled so badly. The wolf turned and rounded on Erik, snapping its teeth and snarling a short bark at him.
Erik's yellow eyes stared into the yellow eyes of the wolf. Erik ran towards and then past the wolf, its hind legs slipping underneath its own weight as it tried to pivot to bite the boy. Erik ran hard, steering clear of what he assumed to be the village, trying to maintain the exhausting chase in the forest. More and more clearings gave some room to try and shake off the wolf. Erik would try and weave one way, but the beast would cut him off with snapping teeth and flexed claws, and so he had to bolt in the opposite direction.
Erik knew he had to escape the woods where the wolf certainly had the advantage.
Acting on instinct, Erik darted toward a rough, dirt road. If there was any chance of running into an unlucky traveler, they might have a more adept weapon than Erik's measly knife, he might have a chance to survive this encounter.
The dirt road began to incline, ever so slightly at first, but became more pronounced as the burning in Erik's side could attest. He was finding it harder to breathe, but run he must. There weren't any wheel tracks embedded into the mud or dirt. This was a road hardly used.
The slope and fatigue made him stumble, but he would use his outstretched arms to right himself in midstep, pushing off with his hands. The pounding of the wolf's paws echoed in his ears, or was that the pounding of his own heart?
He continued to run, reckless and hopelessly, knowing, just knowing that he would feel the searing pain of a bite in any moment.
'Perhaps this death would be better. I would no longer plague this world with my existence.'
The sloping road continued higher, and to Erik's left a vertical cliff full of rocky outcroppings led towards salvation. Erik threw himself against the rocks and immediately began to climb. Wolves were not known for their climbing prowess. Sure enough, the beast stopped below Erik, attempting to follow him up, but sliding down the crumbling rocks. The wolf paced below him, snarling and growling low, waiting for Erik to plummet down to waiting jaws.
The climb was steep, but accessible. Loose rocks slipped from Erik's grasping hands, making him falter. He looked down to view the drop. It was a few yards down, if Erik slipped, the fall would not kill him.
That is, if the sharp jaws didn't do the job.
He hoisted himself up once more. The road wound its way around the cliffside and provided some rest for Erik as it met the side where he was climbing. He gave himself a moment, lying on the dirt flecked with snow, panting with exhaustion, feet still dangling over the edge. Erik sensed something move to his left, and he lurched away, ready to flee once again. But to his relief, it wasn't the wolf. He still heard the pacing agitation from down below. It was a strange creature, no, there were two. Larger than a rat and twice as ugly. They had sparse amounts of hair and were armored and scaly. Erik stared, mouth agape as the creatures waddled by him. One creature misstepped and fell, curling itself into a small ball, its head completely hidden within its scaly armor, its tail curled around itself.
Erik felt immediate kinship with the revolting creatures.
"I wish I could do that," he muttered to the foreign animal as gravity took control and it rolled away. He continued to heave himself off of the cliff and onto the road. When Erik got to his feet, he peered down to spy on the wolf.
It was no longer there.
Terror gripped him once again when he realized he didn't know the predator's location, and he looked everywhere for any kind of shelter; Erik could not maintain running for his life. He needed to curl up and hide.
A large gate led to an entrance of an unknown building and Erik decided to take his chances. He moved with the darkness, throwing his weight against the iron gate. The gate was unlocked and whined against the boy's slight frame, opening far more easily than he anticipated. He was thrown off balance and stumbled inside the walled off courtyard.
What looked like it once held dozens of people was left untouched. The courtyard that would have held castle life was covered in years of dust and neglect. Erik was stunned. A medieval fortress that should bear the signs of crumbling decay was simply stagnant; the walls remained upright without signs of collapse, no lichens permeated between the spaces, no mischievous rats scurried by. The place was asleep and covered in dirt.
Erik wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, staring in odd wonder at the stillness. Snowflakes continued to drift down in the open courtyard, but they provided the only movement. The white was a stark contrast to the red tiles and decrepit grey surrounding him.
He took several steps in, gazing around in wonder, when the gate swung closed. He jumped around, ready to flee at a moment's notice, but nothing spurned it to shut. Not even a whisper of wind. He backed away from the iron gates, unease overtaking him. He was hyper alert for any sounds of the wolf; he could not sense whether he was still being hunted.
At least he had some cover for the night.
Erik was going to settle in under a canopy of stone when he heard something he didn't expect: laughter.
The sound of a girlish giggle echoed faintly around him and he spun around to find the sound. It was fading quickly.
He found himself at the entrance of another doorway, unaware that his feet had led him there, this time large wooden doors stood imposing in front of him. Erik put his hand against the stones and admired the masonry. The archway was carefully carved with an artist's hand, rising above intricately carved human figures. Seated with the people was the winding body of a serpent. Erik frowned, trying to place the imagery, if it was from a classic myth or not. The most imposing sight he beheld was the door knocker: a dragon's head, about to spew flames from its sharp mouth, held the knocker between jagged teeth.
Erik hesitated, unsure to knock or just to proceed forward on his own. The latter was much more favorable than the former and reduced interaction between the owner of the castle and himself. He would just get in, stay for the night, and leave for somewhere else.
While Erik debated his choices, the door made the decision for him and swung open.