Jakob Hohlt's eyes darted about timorously, searching for any sign of movement from his hiding place in the deep, night-shrouded undergrowth of Elwynn Forest. His whole body shook, not only from the cold and raw terror, but also from the damning knowledge that he had fled once more. Worse, he had abandoned his partner, Vivian, the instant the abomination had ripped the door to their humble cabin from its hinges, a horrifying echo of the events that had transpired a mere few years earlier.
What are you doing, Jakob?! Don't leave meeeeeee!
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying and failing to block out the memories that, even now, were still bitter daggers in his heart. "Sara," he found himself saying unconsciously, a whisper that was also a sob and a prayer. The tears came unbidden and stung his face, dirty and scratched from his headlong flight into the woods. "Light help me, Sara, I've done it again."
A sprite-like girl with long, honey-blonde hair and a lilting laugh, Sara had known that he was not brave like the other lads in Tarren Mill, but she had said that she loved his gentle spirit. He had only had eyes for her, and she for him, and they had been devoted to each other. Their wedding had been a small affair, but they had barely been aware of anyone else anyway. For several months, they had been oh so happy, their small home a world unto itself...and yet, when the Scourge had attacked, that devotion had not given him courage, had not prevented him from deserting her in her hour of greatest need.
He remembered turning back to see her lying prone on the ground, the sudden onset of panic as the slavering, nightmarish creatures descended towards them. His feet had seemed to move on their own, curiously disconnected from his precious few rational thoughts at that moment. He had been aware of her pleas to help her, to be brave just this once, but he could no more stop himself from running than he could stop the wind, or so he had told himself. He had run and run and run, away from her soul-rending screams, away from that horrendous place, away from his failure.
But he couldn't outrun the screams, his failure or his guilty conscience, even as his feet had carried him south. He had tried to rationalize his actions – that there was nothing he could have done, that they would both have died, that she would have wanted him to live – but he had known it was all lies, and he had cursed himself every day for leaving her to die. He had fallen in with a band of refugees heading for Southshore, and it was there that he had met Vivian. A nurse in the hastily erected field hospital, she had tended to his physical wounds, but there had been little she could do about the far more serious damage to his spirit.
Once he had sufficiently recovered, she had persuaded him to assist her in taking care of the patients much more grievously wounded than him. They had found themselves to be a companionable pair, and he had grown to admire her commanding, contralto voice and iron will. She, in turn, had appreciated his willingness to do anything and everything to help, even the lowliest and most unenviable tasks. A sturdy widow with dark, reddish-brown hair whose husband had been a soldier, she was in many ways Sara's opposite. Before long, they had begun to seek each other out for comfort, and if their union lacked the youthful passion he had known with Sara, it nurtured deep seeds of respect and affection that might one day flower into a quiet love.
Despite the growing bonds between them and his gradual recovery, he still frequently fell into black moods that she tolerated in silence. He had never unburdened himself of the dark secret that gnawed away at him, that he still couldn't give voice to after all this time. When he had asked her why she put up with him, she had simply shrugged and stated that, even at his worst, he never struck her. Aware of the haunted look in his eyes at the slightest mention of the Scourge, she had encouraged him to go somewhere far, far away from Southshore and the Plaguelands. When he had asked her to come with him to Stormwind, she had agreed after a moment's hesitation. They had never discussed marriage or children, but she was an undemanding partner and didn't press him. She had known that he suffered from abandonment issues; she hadn't known that he feared abandoning her, just like he had Sara.
And now he had done just that, and for what? To save the skin of a man who was not a man, barely a human being? He was nothing, a loathsome betrayer, and Vivian was his sacrificial offering. She, who had nursed so many back to health, who had followed him halfway across the continent, who asked so little of him yet gave so much, was worth two of him – nay, more!
Jakob felt a grim resolve building within his slim form. He could never expunge from his soul the stain of the sin his cowardice had borne, but maybe, just maybe, it was not too late to prevent a second damning incident. If it cost him his life, then so be it; at least then he would end the cycle of self-preserving treachery that had marred his worthless existence. Barring that, he would witness with his own eyes what his weakness had wrought, however grisly that result might be.
But, he thought as he rose on shaky legs, by the Light, am I terrified!
Creeping back towards their home as swiftly as stealth would allow, Jakob was flabbergasted to see that the log cabin was still standing and largely intact, aside from some damage to the doorframe. What's more, there was candlelight visible from within, and he could hear two voices engaged in calm, if strained, conversation!
"He will not come back," rumbled an unfamiliar speaker in an echoey, unearthly tone. It sounded dead and hollow, yet not without inflection, and Jakob shivered as he realized that it must be one of the undead. "He left you to save himself, just like he did before."
"We shall see," he could hear Vivian reply tersely.
Jakob almost wept with relief. Vivian was alive, and from the sounds of it, unharmed! Praise be to the Light, he was not too late! Then the other voice's words hit him – just like before? How did that monster know his secret shame when he had told no one, not even Vivian? He forced down the resurging desire to flee; he had found some measure of courage, and he would not release his grip on it now, even though it amounted to little more than a death wish. He stood up straight, quavering only slightly, and, with as much dignity as he could muster, walked out of the forest and over the threshold.
The scene that greeted him, which would have been ridiculous if it hadn't been chilling, shocked him beyond belief. The monster, a hulking abomination so massive he was amazed it had squeezed itself inside, was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, an enormous meat hook and chain lying next to it within arm's reach. He hadn't known the Scourge made abominations that large, nor that they could talk. Vivian, appearing pale and tense but in control, was slowly rocking back and forth in the chair he had made for her last birthday, a habit he knew calmed her. Both of them looked at him as he entered, seemingly just as surprised as he was, though for different reasons. Clearly no one, least of all himself, had expected him to return.
"Jakob—" said Vivian with a trace of fear as she started to rise, but he gestured for her to stay where she was.
He turned to face the behemoth, which had recovered from his sudden arrival and was now eyeing him carefully. It made no attempt to stand or reach for its weapon, but rather seemed to be waiting to see what he would do. Taking a deep breath in a vain effort to calm his nerves, he drew himself up and faced down his fears. "Whatever you came here to do," he stated in what he hoped was a clear and firm voice, waving an arm in Vivian's direction, "leave her out of this. Do what you will with me, but let her go."
The creature made no reply, and Jakob wilted under its stony gaze. "Please," he begged in desperation, "she's everything to me, and I am nothing. Less than nothing." His last words came out as a whisper, and he heard Vivian's sharp gasp. It was strange; he could almost feel Sara's presence in the small room. A hint of her scent, perhaps, hidden beneath the overpowering stench of dead flesh and formaldehyde. Maybe he would be with her soon. He closed his eyes and waited for the end to come.
A long, cold silence filled the room. No one moved a muscle, seemingly not even to breathe. Finally, the undead horror spoke up, shattering the unbearable stillness. "Was Sara not everything to you?" it demanded, its tone sharp and accusing.
Jakob's eyes flew open. "How—how do you know Sara?!" he stammered breathlessly.
The gargantuan monster pointed at itself. "Sara is a part of Pudge now," it intoned solemnly. "She guided Pudge here."
Jakob wanted to scream out an emphatic denial, but he could feel the truth of the abomination's words. A macabre part of his mind wondered which portion of the stitched-together giant was Sara, but he squelched that revolting thought before his gorge could rise. Suddenly unsteady on his feet, he leaned heavily on the wrecked doorframe. His head swam, and he could hardly breathe. His transgression was even greater than he had ever imagined; she was not merely dead, but trapped by necromantic magic between life and death. It was then that he noticed the wound on the creature's stomach, and the green blood that oozed from the small tear.
Pudge glanced down at himself and then at Vivian, who had ceased her rocking and was staring at them both with wide eyes. "Your woman is brave," he said with ungrudging respect. "She stabbed Pudge with a kitchen knife after you ran." He glared disdainfully at Jakob, the fact that the man was not brave left implied but unspoken.
Jakob and Vivian's eyes met, though his burning shame quickly overwhelmed him, and he had to look away. "Yes, she is," he answered weakly.
"And you never told her the truth?"
Jakob shook his head, knowing full well what was coming.
"Is it true, Jakob?" Vivian interjected faintly, her desire to disbelieve clashing with her desire to know. "It—he said you..." She trailed off, reluctant to finish the sentence.
Pudge was quiet for a moment, anticipation hanging in the air. "Tell her," he commanded in a tone that brooked no dissent.
Jakob swallowed reflexively, trying to wet his suddenly dry mouth and throat. He could feel Vivian's gaze on him, but he couldn't, or wouldn't, meet her eyes. He stood there for a time, the words not coming. Eventually he spoke, his voice raw with long-suppressed emotion. "We were running from the Scourge. We thought the forest might slow them down, give us time to escape, but..."
I'm okay, Jakob, I'm okay. hurry, help me up!
"...we were wrong. Sara, she...she tripped, and her foot got caught on something..."
I'm stuck, it won't budge, jakob, do something!
"...I'd noticed too late, and she looked so, so far away, but the ghouls sounded so close..."
quick, there's no time, why are you just standing there?
He screwed his eyes closed in a desperate attempt to shut out the pain, but it was to no avail. "...she seemed so frail, so weak, and I was so sure we were going to die, but I was so frightened of dying this way..."
please, jakob, if you love me, if you've ever loved me, you have to help me don't leave me like this
"...Light help me, her love felt like a chain, a stone around my neck, and I cast it off because I was scared, scared of death, scared to death..."
why did you leave me jakob?
He sunk to the floor, his legs no longer able to support him, sobbing and babbling almost incoherently. "...for one worthless, wretched moment I hated you, Sara! I loved you but I hated you, and I couldn't save you but I couldn't die with you, and you must hate me, you must, because I hate myself! I left you to die, but I didn't leave, I left so much of me with you! I was half a man, a shadow for so long until I met Vivian..."
do you love her?
Crawling across the rough wooden floor, he prostrated himself before Sara, weeping like the broken man that he was. "By the Light, yes I love her, not one whit less than I loved you or you loved me but how did a worm like me ever deserve such love I threw it away like it was nothing how could anyone ever forgive me how could YOU ever forgive me...!"
A delicate, gentle hand laid itself on his head, ending his mad raving.
i forgive you
For one precious, brilliant moment she was there – whole, beautiful, smiling, and radiantly happy – and then she was gone.
Pudge lifted his hand from Jakob's head, and the man looked up to see an expression of subdued loss on the abomination's visage, as if some essential part of him was now missing. "She is free," Pudge declared softly in his characteristic rumble, "and you are free."
Standing with the monster's help, Jakob wiped his red eyes and nose on his shirtsleeve. "Thank you," he whispered.
Pudge shook his head, then gestured at Vivian, who had scarcely budged an inch during Jakob's self-condemning rant. "Thank her," he stated matter-of-factly, "for giving you courage. If you had run, Pudge would have hunted you down and killed you."
Jakob hardly knew how to respond to that, but his relief at avoiding that fate was palpable.
Pudge rose smoothly, though he had to hunch over to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling, and his lips split open to reveal a toothy grin. "Sara wanted you to live, so live."
"I will," replied Jakob gravely.
Letting loose a deep, bassy chuckle, the towering monstrosity clapped a meaty hand on the man's shoulder, then stomped across the room, the floorboards protesting under his massive bulk.
Before the giant could leave, however, Jakob dared ask one final, nagging question. "Pudge," he began, not quite sure how to phrase what he wanted to say, "if I HAD saved Sara – I mean, if we'd both survived – would you still need to...?"
Catching the man's meaning, Pudge slowly released a forlorn, soul-weary sigh. "Yes," he answered sadly, glancing over his shoulder, "Pudge's mas-ter would have found someone else...and Pudge would have visited another broken home instead."
"You've seen so many," inquired Vivian quietly, "haven't you?"
Pudge nodded soberly, then turned away. Gingerly, he squeezed himself through the battered doorframe and lumbered off into the night.
Hearing the creak of her chair, Jakob turned and faced Vivian. She, too, had been crying, but her control was intact, and she stared at him with great seriousness. He both ached and feared to ask her if she could still bear to be with him, if things could ever be like they were, if she could ever forgive him.
"We shall see," she said in response to his unspoken questions, "but you shouldn't stay here tonight. We both have much to consider."
Jakob nodded in silent acceptance, exhausted from his ordeal but in no position to argue. He started to leave, then paused on the threshold and glanced back at her. "You'll find me...if you want me to return?"
"Yes," she breathed, but her eyes made no promises.
He gave her a brief, wan smile, then immersed himself in the cold darkness. Tonight, he would find refuge at the local inn. Tomorrow...well, tomorrow would be a new day, and the start of a new life.
