Haunted


First of all: I am horribly ridiculously sorry that the wait was so long. I got caught up in my Once Upon a Christmas project and I'm also kind of struggling with balancing this with the animated Red Beauty Teen Wolf crossover as well as work work. I'm still trying to find a balance and I'm sorry I keep leaving you guys hanging :(

Second of all, I'm kinda sorry for the emotional distress this chapter might leave you with and the next chapter is gonna be short-ish so hopefully I can manage to finish it by next or next next week.


Chapter Seven


A sluggish body with muscles that protested at every little movement was what Red awoke to when the sunlight filtering through her eyelids pulled her out of unconsciousness. Pain hung over her entire body but collected around her wrists and ankles, while her shoulder burned like hellfire.

Her throat felt rough and dry. When she licked her lips, that foul and coppery taste of blood assaulted her senses.

Fear shooting through her veins, Red scrambled into a sitting position. What happened last night? Where was this blood from? What did she kill? Who did she kill?

It was becoming difficult to breathe.

Red swallowed. The bitter, horrible taste in her mouth grew stronger.

She tried to form words, tried to take in enough of her surroundings to at least figure out where she was and get some semblance of understanding of what was going on, but the panic was making her heart beat rapidly and her breathing followed suit.

Apart from a blanket draped over her shoulders, she was naked.

Breathing was difficult.

Think. Observe. Figure out what's going on.

Breathing. Difficult.

That was the first wolfstime change since the thing with Peter.

Peter.

Red red red blood on white white snow.

Just like the stench of blood clinging to her skin and sticking to her hair.

Breathing. Can't.

"Red?"

The sound caught her attention and she jerked her head to the side and saw Snow lying on the ground nearby. For a moment, there was the groggy expression of someone who'd just been roused from a restless, too-short sleep. In a heartbeat and several short gasps from Red, Snow was alert, immediately at her friend's side, arms around her and offering comfort.

Breathing. Hard.

Red felt her face scrunching up with the effort of trying to control her breathing and her attempts to form words just came out as strangled whimpers and she clutched at Snow's cloak and pulled at it and gripped it and imagined it was that last root to cling to and keep her from falling over the edge of a cliff.

"It's a little before noon." Snow spoke in this soft, almost singsong voice, rocking slightly as she cleared up and answered questions that Red couldn't even begin to coherently form. "You didn't kill any person last night."

Breathing. Breathing. Gasping. Clinging to Snow.

"It was some lost dog."

Breathe breathe gasp. Choke.

"The ropes tore when you pulled at them then you went running through the forest and I had struggled to keep up. By the time I caught up to you, you'd found the dog."

Gasping. Gasping. Choking.

"It was over quickly at least."

Gasping. Gasping. Breathing.

"After, you saw Belle."

Choke. Whimper. Choke.

"You didn't hurt her." Snow tightened her grip and it almost gave Red some sense of safety and security. It was a false sense, but it helped. "I had to stop you with an arrow, but it was otherwise a relatively tame encounter. I didn't show my face but I managed to get them to turn back."

Grasping Snow's clothes, pulling.

Breathe.

"There was another man with Belle but I failed to fully take in his features. He was vaguely familiar but I can't be sure." Snow pulled Red closer, adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, rubbed soothing circles along her back. "But now that they've seen the wolf, it might seem too suspicious if we pack up and leave town immediately. Belle seems like the kind of person who would figure it out if we don't plan this carefully."

Red couldn't remember any of this. The whole night was a blur of anger and frustration and darkness.

She felt filthy and disgusting.

"Red?"

Breathing… easier.

Blinking and swallowing and cringing at that awful taste, Red managed to meet Snow's eyes and give a croaky reply. "Uhh?"

"We'll have to get you cleaned up and once we're back at the inn, the fewer people that see us, the better." Snow's thumbs wiped at the streaked mess of tears and blood staining Red's cheeks. "And you'll have to try to keep Belle from noticing your wrists or your shoulder."

"It…" Red swallowed, "I think it'll heal enough by tonight." The wrists and ankles would probably be normal in a few more hours. It was the silver-induced shoulder injury that would heal at a more dragging pace.

The thought of tonight being another nightmare without the cloak was terrifying.

"I'll work on getting some chain for tonight," Snow said, "And anything else we might be able to use that should hold stronger than last night's rope. We should also find a spot even farther from the inn this time. Just in case you break lose again."

Tonight was definitely going to be another nightmare.

"Red, we'll get through this." Snow brushed Red's hair back in a gesture of reassurance, "We'll be more prepared. We'll take better precautions." The way Snow was taking charge helped Red feel less lost and distressed. "We'll figure it out."

The certainty in Snow's words were something to cling to and depend on for security.

Red just hoped that Snow was going to be right.


For the rest of that night, Belle had been restless and far too excited to get any sleep. Several hours were spent pouring over her map and her notes, writing down as thorough a description as she could recall of the wolf's appearance and behavior, even attempting a vague sketch of its silhouette. Based on her research on typical wolves, this one was definitely much larger than the norm.

Another couple of hours was spent writing in-depth theories about the wolf possibly being someone's familiar and theories of who might be the person behind the wolf's actions and protection. The mysterious archer had to be someone sharing some deep connection with the wolf. Otherwise, how would he have been able to act at just the right moment to warn the wolf and then warn Belle and Renard to leave?

Belle also noted that there had been a familiar glint to the arrowheads, just before they hit the ground near her feet. They reminded her exactly of the kind of glint her own silver dagger held.

She didn't have the time to pick the arrows up and inspect them to prove this, but Belle was almost sure that they had been silver-tipped.

Based on the story Belle had heard on her first conscious night at this inn, she also wrote one idea that revolved around the concept of a jealous lover who came between the blacksmith's son and the girl. The jealous lover had the blacksmith's son eliminated and took the girl with him.

If this were the case, then whether or not the girl was still alive was something Belle had to know.

Midday sunlight coming in through the sloppily slatted windows of her room roused Belle from the sleep she hadn't been aware she'd taken.

The sight of daylight and the clear memories of the previous night sent a burst of energy charging through Belle's body. She all but leapt out of bed, pulled on her boots, threw her cloak over her shoulders and strapped her dagger and belt about her hips.

When Belle charged out of her room, it had been with every intention of finding Renard and making plans with him to revisit the forest to inspect the wolf's tracks and then make plans to go on another trek tonight.

Instead, Belle found herself running straight into Red, bumping into her and knocking her back a few steps.

A low, almost growled curse tumbled forth from Red's mouth and she clutched at her shoulder, breathing heavily.

"Sorry!" Belle stepped back and was about to mumble a string of more apologies, but her mind came to a full, crashing stop when she took in Red's appearance.

Though the clothes covering her looked fresh, and her skin itself seemed washed and clean, there were a number of scrapes and scratches along her arms and elbows, while several cuts riddled her face. And as Red nursed her shoulder before seeming to recover and straighten up, Belle noted discolored wrists.

What was most concerning though was the look to Red's eyes.

They looked more tired and sad than Belle had ever seen them. Dark circles made them look deep and sunken while the whites were more pinkish red than actual white. The calming green Belle had grown accustomed to seeing was dull and almost grey.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine." Red's answer was clipped and agitated. She made to move past Belle.

"Wait!"

A sound somewhere between grumble and sigh escaped Red, then she turned around. The tired expression was still there, but the agitation was replaced with an attempted friendliness. "Sorry. How are you?"

"I…" Belle wanted to know how Red was, know what she spent all night doing, know why she looked so tired and why she was hurt and just why couldn't they be more honest with each other? If maybe Belle could just come clean about Rumple and Lord Maurice, then perhaps Red would be more honest about her own secrets.

"I'm planning to go tracking again." It felt like a blow to her own gut, but Belle decided against pressing Red for personal information she clearly wasn't willing to give. Time spent in Rumple's castle had already taught Belle to know better than to press a person too hard when they seemed troubled. They might only lash out and send her away.

Red raised an eyebrow. "Do… do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I'll be fine." Belle said, "I think I'm gaining a grasp of it. But I was wondering if you would like to go out with me tonight?"

"Go out with you?"

Well that came out a tad awkward.

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Belle brushed her hair back and tried again. "I mean to go and track the wolf in the forest? I was there with a friend last night and we actually saw it!"

Red seemed to grow paler.

"It was snarling and seemed angry, but out of nowhere, someone shot arrows to stop the wolf and then to warn us to leave it be." Talking about it reminded Belle why she had been so excited and restless. "Can you imagine what this could mean? It proves that the wolf may be someone's familiar or daemon or spirit animal. Terminology doesn't matter, I just have to know more about the details about it. How does their connection work? How do they communicate? How does the wolf eliminate threats for their other half? Do they have a mind link or is it just something they feel? Is it a curse or is it magic they were born with?"

The more Belle spoke, it seemed the paler Red became.

"And it absolutely intrigues me how it seems as though this person is simultaneously protecting the wolf and people the wolf might attack." Belle tried to restrain herself and slow down until she stopped at one more sentence. "And it makes me wonder about the previous victims- does it mean that they were purposely eliminated or was it because the connection between the wolf and its other half needed more time to mature?"

"Fascinating." Red's smile looked even more forced.

Belle felt like giving herself a kick for making Red so uncomfortable, but it was difficult to figure out what was bothering her so much about the wolf unless she might have actually encountered it?

It would be too convenient a coincidence though, wouldn't it?

"So… would you like to come with me tonight?" Belle asked in a whisper, by now too at a loss, torn between her bursting fascination with the wolf and her pressing concern for this developing friendship. "I'm planning to ask my friend later if he wants to organize a small group."

"Sure, whatever." Red's smile seemed almost painful as she stepped backwards until her hand fell upon the door to her room. "We'll see what happens."

Before Belle could say anything else, Red went in and closed the door behind her.


"Stupid!" Red cursed under her breath, rapping her knuckles against her own skull. "Stupid stupid stupid! Damn it all! Why did I say that?"

Her knees were weak and trembling. Her hands were shaky. Her vision was watery and blurred. It was difficult to breathe again.

Red clawed at the door before sliding down it and collapsing on the floor.

She hated how weak she was. She hated how she had no control. She hated the wolf. She hated how it was part of her. She hated everything!

Snarling and screaming in a blur of high-pitched noise, Red leaned backwards, heavily banging her back and head against the door. This was overwhelming and upsetting and distressing and awful and horrible and bad and why did Granny take so long to tell the truth?

Where was Snow?

Snow could fix this. Snow could say things and make breathing easy again.

Why did Belle keep feeding Red with those dumb ideas of the wolf maybe being something that can be tamed? Why was she messing with Red's head like that? Why was she being such a friend?

"What is wrong with me?" Red dug her fingers into her hair and buried her face in her forearms.

Snow not being around right now wasn't the problem.

Belle being her trusting, friendly self wasn't the problem.

It didn't require an established magician of wisdom to clarify who was the real problem here.

Red was scared and confused and at a complete and utter loss.


Night had fallen. The moon's glow was made brilliant by its fullness. The cool air still held traces of the previous winter's bite.

Suppressing a shudder, Belle adjusted the cloak about her shoulders, seeking warmth from it.

"Wot's takin' her so long?" The impatient question came from one of the inn's regular patrons and acclaimed storytellers. A bow of very crude make was in his hands while a quiver of crooked arrows was slung over his shoulders.

"She's coming." Belle assured them. "She should be here soon."

Or at least, Belle hoped so.

They were more prepared tonight.

Belle and Renard had decided that they stood better chances against the wolf if they brought along more help. More pairs of eyes would be able to keep a look out for the mysterious archer and perhaps a few of them could maintain the wolf's attention while one or two could go around and try to see where the archer was shooting from.

They also had more silver this time. Belle had her own dagger while Renard had two of his own. The bulk of the afternoon had been spent making use of a blacksmith's forge, Belle watching Renard set to work reinforcing the arrows and blades of their party with silver. The skill with which he worked had been both fascinating and impressive.

But it made Belle uncomfortable to see so many weapons in one place, all capable of doing harm to the wolf. She'd insisted time and again that they weren't going to hurt the wolf unless absolutely necessary and they were to observe at a safe distance as much as possible.

The goal was simply to understand the wolf and talk to the archer.

They seemed agreeable enough to her conditions. A few even still had second thoughts about the little expedition. Belle could see them now, hovering at the back and exchanging glances as though they weren't as excited as they thought they would be.

But where was Red?

Belle fidgeted and looked up at the moon as though it would answer the question.

"We're wastin' moonlight here, lass." There was a somber look to Renard as he patted her shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. "I thinks we should get a move on soon, don't you?"

Biting at her lip and looking away from the moon, Belle hesitated.

A significant part of her was hoping (almost praying) that Red would come so that Belle could apologize for rambling so much and causing such an upset. Also to maybe understand what was bothering Red so much.

Red said she was going, didn't she?

Belle felt awful about how the morning played out and this evening together (with several others) might have been something of a shared adventure to make up for it.

Guilt just welled up in the pit of Belle's stomach the longer they waited and the more it seemed as though Red was not going to show up.

Sighing and ignoring the distinct feeling of worry that something terrible was going to happen, Belle at last nodded her agreement. "We should start while the night is young."

Remembering the lessons she got from Red about tracking and observation, Belle led the way through the trees. At first it was with just the intention of retracing last night's steps, but when they came upon a trail of disturbed foliage, Belle changed her course. There were some vague prints in the soil of a set of boots.

It wasn't something she could be certain of, but Belle hoped it might be the tracks of the archer.

"Ye sure we're goin' the right way?" It was the storyteller again, impatient and irritable. "I ain't seein' no wolf prints nowheres."

"It's the right way." Renard's response was gruff and to the point, leaving no room for argument. Belle was taken aback by the conviction in the tone and posture. "Keep goin', Belle."

Touched by the faith he had in her, Belle nodded and continued forward.

The further they went, the more Belle seemed to hear sounds that were at first indistinguishable. As they drew closer, the sounds became recognizable as growling and whining.

Belle hesitated.

Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that the rest of the party also seemed uncertain. Renard's brows were furrowed and his expression was unreadable. The Storyteller looked a tad more afraid than he was willing to admit.

"Shall we?" A scattering of hesitant nods was the response to her question.

Belle took a deep breath to brace herself before following the growling and whining sounds. The louder they got, the faster her heart beat- from a combination of both fear and excitement. It intrigued her as well that it didn't sound like the wolf was moving and seemed to linger in one area.

Finally, Belle peered through a clump of bushes to find the wolf chained to a tree, struggling against its bindings.

Was this how the archer kept his wolf in control?

If it was, how must he have treated the girl? Was she even still alive?

What looked like an altered horse collar was around the wolf's broad neck, and the chain linked to it was looped around the base of a tree. The chain was short, providing limited slack for the wolf, no doubt adding to its agitation.

Not daring to look behind her lest the hesitating men influence her courage, Belle made her way through the foliage and stepped into the clearing.

The wolf froze.

It snarled at first, hackles rising, muscles tensing.

A stray breeze blew past Belle from behind, bringing her scent towards the wolf.

The snarling stopped, and for a moment that Belle wasn't sure was imagined or not, the wolf's eyes flashed green.

But when the tracking party came in to join Belle in the clearing, the wolf's eyes were yellow fires once again, burning and hateful and accompanied by ferocious snarls.

"That's the wolf!" The Storyteller hooted, "Can't believe the beast be right there! And it's all chained up like the boy was all chained up in the story. 'Tis perfect!"

A string of rumbling growls sounded like a warning. The wolf glared at them and tugged once again at its bindings.

"That pelt's goin' ter fetch us a right load of gold, boys!" Before Belle could take in what they were saying and stop them, the men began to aim their arrows at the wolf. Several shot forward and to Belle's surprise, the wolf easily dodged them despite its restraints.

Growling ever louder, the wolf made several more mighty tugs against the chain until it was the collar around its throat that tore and broke. Once free, the wolf moved fast, lunging at them and going straight for the Storyteller.

Belle was thrown back in the flail of the wolf's paws. She hit the ground, just barely breaking her fall with her palms.

A high-pitched yelp from the wolf made Belle's heart skip a beat. From her position on the ground, she watched the wolf recoil and stumble away, blood welling up from a cut through its shoulder.

"Stay back!" Renard moved towards the wolf, its blood flashing on his blade.

The wolf growled and at first seemed about to charge, but instead it turned and fled.

"No!" Belle pushed herself back to her feet and tore after the wolf. "We didn't mean to hurt you!" This was the last thing she wanted and she was angry at the tracking party for turning into a hunting party and she was worried about the wolf and she felt guilty about allowing this to escalate into such a mess and she just hated how this night was such a disaster.

She barely registered the men behind her gathering around the Storyteller. Belle was focused on following the wolf's clumsy, stumbling trail of broken foliage and kicked up dirt.

When she came upon the wolf again, it was lying behind some bushes. It noticed her and growled again.

The growls still made her heart beat with fear, but Belle swallowed and slowed her pace but continued her approach.

There seemed to be another flash of green for the briefest of moments, and the wolf's ears pulled back, flattening against its skull. A sound somewhere between growl and whimper came out of the wolf's mouth before it lowered its head.

Reading this as submissive behavior and nothing at all like a warning prior to attack, Belle drew closer, bending her knees as she went until she came to a stop in a crouching position before the wolf.

"I'm sorry," Belle whispered, slowly moving her hand towards the wolf.

The wolf whimpered again and moved its head away.

Belle stopped her hand but held it in place, giving the wolf the choice of whether or not it wanted to be touched.

After another low whine, the wolf moved its head towards Belle. Her fingers just barely grazed its nose when a dagger flew in and buried itself deep into the wolf's side.

Whatever connection they'd begun to form was broken and the wolf was feral again; it resumed snarling and snapping, fur bristling, tail straight out. Belle just barely managed to scramble back and avoid its jaws snapping a hair's breadth away from her face.

Another dagger came in, digging into the wolf's thigh, tearing its attention away from Belle so it could roar at its attacker.

Bringing herself up on shaky legs, Belle noticed it was Renard throwing the daggers and leading the party towards the wolf. It was thrashing and snarling, blood flowed from its wounds. With a sinking heart, Belle saw that though the wolf's movements were frenzied, it seemed to be growing weaker.

"What is the matter with you?" Belle demanded, turning to Renard and marching towards him. "This isn't what we discussed!"

"O'course it ain't!" Renard moved his attention away from the wolf to snap at Belle, "That beast is a murderer and a liar."

"What?" Belle was taken aback by the change to the man she'd trusted with so much of her research. What did he know and why was he behaving so differently now? "What are you talking about? How can you know that? I thought we agreed-"

"There weren't no way you'd believe it 'till I shows it to ye." Renard turned away from Belle then approached the weakened wolf. It had stopped its trashing and was now lying on the ground, panting and curling its bleeding limbs close to its body. "This wolf is a monster that got no place here."

From the bag slung over his shoulder, Renard pulled out a red cloak. It couldn't be mistaken as anything other than the one Belle knew Red had lost recently.

What did any of this mean?

"This is the reason why that lousy lying friend o' yours never shown her face tonight." Renard threw the cloak over the wolf.

Hardly able to believe her own eyes, Belle watched as the wolf's shape shrunk into that of a woman.

Into Red.