Please read all of this commentary its important!
Egypt: ok so heres the deal, we were reading this short story by Angela Carter (an amazing author) in my English class and one of my friends didnt get it at all, so she asked me to re-write one of the short stories in a simpler form, and so, here it is, so anyone who likes this one-shot can thank Angela Carter and I DO NOT CLAINM THIS ONE-SHOT so here u go Sarah! hope u like it this time!
Warning: Im going to rate this...M so 16+ to be safe because of suggestive themes, Yami and Yugi pairing
hope u enjoy,
and i hope this inspires u to read Angela's work cause she really is an awesome writer
and those of u who have made a request, dont worry im writting ur stories now and they'r almost done so dont worry they should be up soon!
Our story takes place in a northern country where the weather is cold and the land is vast. There is no civilisation here, the only sign that anyone lives here are small farms and little villages, and even they are surrounded by wild meadows and seemingly endless woods.
The people are as cold as the weather, as they live hard lives, living in homes made from logs that are dark and smokey within. Those who are lucky have one bed for their usually very large families, a stool or even a table; those who are less fortunate make do with mats and blackest.
Such harsh, brief, poor lives.
Superstitious fools.
They believe wreaths of garlic hanging on the front door keep out the vampires, and a child born feet first with blue eyes on the night if St John's Eve is a child blessed by God with a second sight- awake to the world of hidden secrets that the earth strives to hide from normal folk- and old women are accused of witchery and stoned to death through injustice.
However there is one superstition the people have right and there is no escaping this terrible demon.
Many legends evolve around the giant wolves that roam freely in the forests, one old woman told a tale of how a hunter caught one in a pit and jumped down after him, slit the monsters throat, and cut off one of his paws as a trophy. And then, no wolf lay at the hunter's feet. Instead of the black blood of the beast that soaked the earth beneath his boots, there was the rich crimson blood of a human, and a man lay there instead, dying, then dead.
To the upland woodsmen, the devil in the form of a giant wolf is as real as you are, more so even.
Sometimes a poor soul will catch a glimpse of the thing in a graveyard where nothing grows; stealing the offerings of food the villagers would leave for their dead like loafs of bread or cakes.
The creatures live within the old forests, cold; tempest; wild beasts, furious; powerful; terrifying monsters that haunt old folk tales and plague the dark of night.
At night the eyes of wolves shine like candle flames because their pupils fatten on darkness and catch even the faintest of lights. If the benighted traveller spies those luminous, terrible sequins suddenly in the black thickets, then he knows he must run...if fear hadn't already struck him still. But those eyes will be the only glimpse any victim will have of the forests assassin as they cluster around the aroma of one's flesh.
And no matter where in the country you may live, on the night of a full moon, you can always hear the wolfsong, his long, wavering howl...the congregation of nightmares, and aria of fear made audible.
It is winter and the nights are bleakly long and the air is painfully chilled.
In this mountainous forest area there is little for any living thing to eat, the ground is frozen hard and blanketed in crisp snow. Most animals have retreated into hibernation, and the trees are burdened with piles of the frost and flakes on their branches.
Villagers fear this time more than ever as the demons that lurk in the forests by their homes grow lean and famished, and unlike other occupants of the woods, the wolves cannot be reasoned with.
The forests are always the most dangerous place to be, but more so in a such cold, hungry time, where there are no people to hear your screams for help. Many children carry knives with them during the dark days of winter as they tend their flocks of goats and sheep that keep their families and villages alive through these hard times, the blades sharpened daily.
Children do not stay young for long in this savage country, there are no toys so they work hard and grow wise quickly.
...
But not one.
So pretty, so pure.
No, this child looks many winters younger than his actual age, his youth has not withered away like others of his age, and his fragile form makes him look feminine.
Yugi was an only child, indulged by his mother and his Grandfather, his only relatives. The elderly man had knitted him a red shawl that, today, has the ominous- if brilliant-look of blood on snow.
His chest is soft like a child's; his strange anti-gravity hair is like lint, so fair his blond lighting shaped bang fringe hardly makes a shadow on his pale forehead; his cheeks, an emblematic scarlet and white, puberty had obviously being delayed for this boy with a thin waist and perfectly curvy hips.
Though his hair made everyone stare in mistrust- a black mane in an almost star shape with violet tips, his lightening fringe framed his childlike face with a small bang hanging softly against his creamy skinned forehead- his wide, innocent violet eyes that sparkled like jewels put any suspicion to rest.
He stands and moves within the invisible pentacle of his own virginity and childish innocence. He has his knife and is afraid of nothing.
His father might have forbid him from it if he had stuck around after he was born, but he had long since ran from him and his mother- leaving them at the mercy of their friends in the village, and generosity of nature as they grew their fruit and vegetables in their small patch of land. And his mother could not deny him anything he asked.
And so, moments after asking his mother sweetly for permission to visit his Grandfather, the forest closed upon him like a pair of jaws.
The boy smiled as he strode along the path he knew so well, his red shawl blowing gently behind him as he moved, the soft fabric tied around his shoulders, the white collar of his shirt folded neatly over the crimson cotton as the hood rested against his shoulder blades. Over his white shirt, that was baggy and thick over his slim arms to warm him in such harsh weathers, was a small black waist coat that hugged his waist nicely, the shirt tucked into his tight leather leggings, thick weathered boots comforting his feet from the chilly snow. But of cause, by order of his Grandfather, the boy carried a small basket with his knife inside along with some fresh baking from his mother.
There is always something to look at in the forest, even in the middle of winter. The birds resting in the branches, chirping happily away, how snow managed to cling to the bark of the trees to create a black and white picture of winter loveliness, the odd deer wondering carefully between the trees, a rabbit scurrying across the path on a hurry to hide once more.
When he heard the freezing howl of a distant wolf, his practised hand sprang to the handle of his knife, but he saw no sign of a wolf at all, nor of a naked man, but then he heard a clattering among the brushwood and there sprang on to the path a fully clothed one. A very handsome one young one, in a dark crimson coat, a crimson baggy shirt, tight leather trousers and thick boots, a rifle smugly over his shoulder, clearly a huntsman.
Yugi stared as his eyes roamed the man before him; his hair was similar to his own only he had blond streaks in his grand black mane, rimmed in crimson, no small bang against his forehead above his charming narrow crimson eyes. Yugi's eyes took in his broad shoulders, large arms, firm chest, slim waist, flat stomach, long toned legs, and slightly tanned skin to show that he was often out in the open under the sun.
Yugi had his hand on his knife at the first rustle of twigs but the man laughed with a flash of white teeth when he saw Yugi and made him a comic yet flattering little bow; Yugi'd never seen such a fine fellow before, not among the rustic clowns of his native village.
"Well hello." The man's baritone voice filled the crisp air, making Yugi's breathing quicken slightly.
The young teen swallowed thickly, discreetly clearing his throat before replying. "Hello." Yugi answered politely, nodding softly to the young man.
"And who might you be my pretty little snow angel?" The crimson eyed young man asked with a sly smile.
"My name is Yugi, and yourself?" The boy asked, shifted on his feet, his cheeks colouring under the mans intense, observant gaze.
"Yami, call me Yami." The young man said smoothly, his voice as charming and silky as honey. Yami stepped forward towards the boy, never removing his gaze from Yugi's violet eyes, offering his arm out to him.
Yugi looked over Yami once more, intrigued by this handsome stranger. So on they went together, through the thickening light of the afternoon.
Soon they were laughing and joking like old friends. When Yami offered to carry his basket, Yugi gave it to him although his knife was in it because Yami told him his rifle would protect them. As the day darkened, it began to snow again; Yugi felt the first flakes settle on his long eyelashes and so he carefully pulled his hood over his hair and pulled the cotton over his shoulders for more protection from the cold wind, but now there was only half a mile to go and there would be a fire, and hot tea, and welcome, a warm one, surely, for the dashing huntsman as well as for himself.
Yami stopped walking suddenly as the wind picked up and the small flakes became bigger. "It's snowing again and the wind is getting stronger. Maybe we should take a short cut." Yami turned towards the trees. At this, Yugi took his arm from Yami's and stepped back.
"Not through the trees, it's too easy to get lost..." Yugi said in a frown.
"But I have my compass." Yami assured, pulling out a small circular device that Yugi had never seen before. "See, this needle in the centre will always points me north so I never lose my way. This little thing has led me on my way many times on my hunts."
"I...I don't know..." Yugi observed the glass face in the man's hand as the little needle wavered and shook.
"Trust me Yugi. I can guarantee you that if I were to follow my compass through the woods, then I will arrive at your Grandfather's house a good quarter of an hour before you if you continued along this winding path." Yami said confidently, staring into Yugi's eyes again with intensity and heat.
"I don't believe you. Besides, aren't you afraid of the wolves?" Yami only tapped the gleaming butt of his rifle.
"Is it a bet?" Yami asked him, stepping forward so Yugi could feel his hot breath, his smirk revealed a row of perfectly gleaming white teeth, his eyes dancing darkly. "Shall we make a game of it? What will you give me if I get to your Grandfather's house before you?" Yami asked, his voice low and rough, making Yugi shiver.
"What would you like?" Yugi asked hypocritically.
"A kiss." Yami whispered seductively in his ear, making the boy blush and look away.
And so, Yami went through the undergrowth and took Yugi's basket with him, but the boy had forgotten to be afraid of the beasts, also now the moon was rising, but Yugi carried on his way slowly, wanting the young handsome man to win his wager.
Grandfather's house stood by itself a little way out of the village. The young man strode delicately up the snowy path to the door as if he were reluctant to get his feet wet, swinging boy's basket and humming a light tune to himself.
There was a faint trace of blood on his chin; he has been snacking on his catch.
He rapped on the panels with his knuckles. "It is your Grandson." He mimicked Yugi's voice perfectly.
"Lift up the hatch and walk in, my boy!" Called an old man propped up on many pillows, his home decorated in pelts and heads of the monsters he'd killed in his younger years of life. Even outside in the cold, the young man could smell the stench of death from inside, emitting off of the furs the old man kept as trophies.
Irony was a cruel thing.
The sweet you boy's grandfather was a wolf hunter.
Responsible for killing most of the young man's pack and family.
Fury and revenge soon burned behind the young man's brilliant red eyes.
Yami strode into the home, but once the old man saw those red eyes, as red as an opened wound, his old knowledge and wisdom told him that he had just welcomed the devil into his home.
As the young man strips of his disguise- the old coat, the tatted shirt, the constricting leather, the sweaty boots, all trinkets of his last meal- the old man can see that the young man, though toned and strong, is thin and famished.
The wolf is carnivore incarnate.
When the dark figure is finished, he licks his red lips, quickly dressing again until he was just as he had been when he came through the door. He burned the hair he'd left in the fireplace and wrapped the bones up in the bloody sheets, hiding them in a box under the bed, quickly finding new bed sheets. He plumped the pillows and shook out the patch work quilt. The Grandfather clock ticked away quietly. The young man sat patiently beside the bed in Grandpa's nightcap.
Rat-a-tap-tap
"Who's there?" He quaver's in Grandpa's antique baritone.
"Only you Grandson."
So he came in, bringing with him a flurry of snow that melted in tears on the tiles, and perhaps he was a little disappointed to see only his Grandfather sitting beside the fire.
The boy shivered terribly at the sights of the dead wolves, feeling slight sorrow and pity for the dead creatures everyone but him despised.
Suddenly, the figure by the fire flung off the blanket and sprang up to press his back to the door, trapping the boy inside.
The tick of the clock crapped like a whip as Yugi looked around for his Grandfather. He wanted his knife from his basket, but he did not dare reach for it because Yami's eyes were fixed on him- huge eyes that now seemed to shine with a unique, interior light, eyes the size of saucers, saucers full of Greek fire.
"What big eyes you have." Yugi muttered quietly.
"All the better so see you with." Yami replied, a slight growl in his voice that rumbled through the room like thunder.
No trace at all of the old man except a tuff of silver hair that had caught in the bark of an unburned log. When the boy saw that, he knew he was in danger of death.
"Where is my Grandpa?" He asked shakily.
"There is nobody here but we two my Aibou." Yami's tone was assuring and deep.
Now a great howling rose up all around them, near, very near, as close as the kitchen garden, the howling of a multitude of wolves; sounding loud and joyful somehow, as if happy, the sound made the boy shiver in spite his scarlet shawl he pulled more closely round himself as if it could protect him although it was as red as the blood he must spill.
"Who has come to sing us carols?" He asked bravely.
"Those are the voices of my brothers Aibou, the one's your Grandfather didn't kill; I love the company of wolves. Look out of the window and you'll see them."
Yugi slowly inched towards the window to see a white wolf pacing, growling menacingly and white sharp teeth showing, eyes narrowed at the window, a brown so black they were almost as cold and dark as coal. There were others, another white wolf with soft sad brown eyes, two pale sand coloured wolves with sharp violet eyes, a brown with ice cold blue eyes and a golden brown wolf with matching taunting eyes. There were many more, all their eyes reflected the fire behind him and shone like hundreds of candles.
Yugi couldn't help but notice that a few were shaking, all of their hot breaths huffed out to make a mist in the night.
"It's so cold, poor things, no wonder they howl." Yugi whispered to himself. Finally unable to look any more, he closed the curtains.
Yugi turned to the young man who was still watching him hungrily, suddenly unafraid. Slowly, he undid the knot on his shawl and slipped it off.
"What shall I do with my shawl?" He asked softly.
"Throw it on the fire dear one, you won't need it again."
Yugi bundled up his shawl and threw it on the blaze which instantly consumed it. Then he pulled his shirt out of his trousers and over his head. Yugi shivered as Yami gazed over his chest and revealed stomach, feeling heat tingle his cheeks.
"What shall I do with my shirt?" He asked gently.
"Into the fire with it, too, my pet." The thin cotton flared up the chimney like a magic bird and now off with his waist coat, leather trousers, woollen socks, his shoes, and all onto the fire they went also, and were all gone for good. The fireplace shone through the edges of his skin; now the boy was clothed only in his untouched flesh. Yugi then went up to the man with red eyes; he stood up onto his tiptoe and unbuttoned the collar of Yami's own shirt.
"What big arms you have." Yugi whispered, feeling adrenaline and nervousness creep through his veins like wildfire.
"All the better to hug you with." Yami whispered back, a soft smile forming on his lips, such a gentle, loving look Yugi couldn't help but gasp.
The wolves outside seem to howl loud enough for the world to hear as Yugi reached up to give the young man freely a kiss of his own. The kiss starts gentle and soft, but as Yami's arms wrap around Yugi's waist to hold the smallers body too him tightly, their lips begin to lap and move together passionately. Growing braver, Yugi experimentally juts his tongue into Yami's willing mouth, only to pull away panting.
"What big teeth you have!" Yugi gasped.
Yugi saw how Yami's jaw began to slaver and the room was filled with the cries of the wolves, but the wise child never flinched, not even when Yami replied:
"All the better to eat you with." In a vibrating growl.
The boy only giggled; he knew he was nobody's meat. Yami seemed pleased with Yugi's reaction to his teasing; helping him as he tugged his shirt off, flinging it on the fire, followed shortly with his own trousers, socks and boots. Joining their lips once more, the two stumbled their way to the old bed as heat and desire burned through their tangling bodies.
Carnivore incarnate, only the pure appeal to him.
As the night drifts on and midnight chimes on the Grandfather clock to signal that it was now Christmas day-the Werewolf's birthday- the blizzard dies down and the once wild beast lays his fearful head on Yugi's lap, his eyes drifting closed to rest, a peaceful smile gracing his lips. Yugi smiled softly as Yami laid on him sleeping, running his fingers soothingly through the young man's hair.
Suddenly Yami sat up, leaning over the boy with his arms braced on either side of the boys head. But Yugi didn't flinch, only smiled and laid back into the pillows, reaching up to run his fingers lightly over Yami's cheek. Yugi looked up into the taller's eyes to see they were pleading and loving once again.
"Never leave me Yugi..." The red eyed man leaned down so their lips were almost together. "My mate."
Yugi's smile was beaming, his pale slim arms wrapping around Yami's neck to pull their bodies closer. "Never." He whispered.
And so Yugi sleeps soundly in Grandpa's bed, in the loving arms of his tender wolf.
review if u want, hope u liked it Sarah!