Ciel's POV
The cold wind whips at my face, burning my skin. It started snowing heavily about 20 minutes ago, and already I'm chilled to the bone. I layered up, but it's done nothing to help. I squint through the falling snow, trying to see the road, but it's useless. The road has been buried under the thick snow. It's dangerous to be out at this time, but I can't just go back now. It would be a waste. I need to know what is in that letter. My mother gave it to me, and I should have read it by now. All this time I knew nothing about it. And now, I have a slim chance that I can find out what truly happened between my mother and Sebastian.
I shiver under my jacket, my teeth chattering. I have lost almost all feeling in my fingers by now, my hands loosely holding on to the reigns. Jasmine, my horse, is fighting the wind, as brave as ever. But I know this is hard on her too. She has slowed down to a walk, hesitant on the slippery road. Her eyes and nose are covered in snow and ice. I fall forward, not able to sit up any longer. I wrap my arms around her neck, head turned away from the wind. It seems like this snowstorm will never end.
It takes two hours to reach the town house, but that's on a good day. When the weather is nice, and the roads are clear. At this rate, we won't make it to town by morning. The cold has infiltrated my entire body, driving out any and all heat. My face has become coated in a thin layer of ice, my eyes sealed shut. I don't want to know what it looks like out there. I can practically see warmth behind my eyelids; I can imagine the sun hot against my cheeks. My lips are cracked and bleeding, so dried out from the cold. I don't know where we are anymore. I am praying that Jasmine has been going in the right direction. She knows how to get to town.
I crack my eyelids open, to get an idea of where we are. All I see are trees. Trees are all around us. No road, no houses, no people, just trees. I lift my head a little, and look around. Trees, tall trees towering above us, that's all there, is as far as the eye can see. We're lost. Jasmine got us lost. She didn't know where she was going. I look up at her head, and see it's hanging low. Her eyes are barely open, and they're crusted with ice. I pat her neck. She continues to walk in the storm. Thankfully the trees provide some cover from the wind. We need to go somewhere that's out of the cold. Somewhere warm and with food. My stomach growls hard. I haven't eaten anything since lunch. I'm so tired, so tired of being cold.
I hear the footsteps before I see their owner. The crunch of the snow under the feet is just meters away. I open my eyes, hoping it's a lumberjack out in the woods who can help us. But then I hear the growl. Jasmine's ears prick up a little bit, turning towards the noise, as she looks for the maker of the sound, but it's too late. The wolf is on us, jumping through midair, appearing from behind the bushes, and has sunken his teeth in to her flesh before we can react. She takes off, me hanging on for dear life, trying to shake him off. Jasmine kicks and flails, weaving around the trees, narrowly missing some of them. Panic begins to set in as the fact that a wolf may kill my only chance of survival hits me. I grip her mane as tightly as I can, but it's no use. My fingers aren't working properly because they're cold. So I am thrown off her back. I fly through the air, and land harshly on the ground, all air leaving my lungs. The impact knocked the wind out of me, as I struggle to breath. I can just see the wolfs teeth tear through Jasmines throat. She stops running, and falls to the ground, close to death. The dog rips through her flesh, while she hangs on for her life. But she has no fight left in her, no strength, and finally succumbs to death. Her head falls to the ground as the mutt eats away at her corpse, taking what he pleases. I feel sick to my stomach, and start retching, but nothing comes up but a thick acidic yellowish substance that burns my throat.
When I'm finished, I fall back in to the snow, exhausted. I close my eyes. So this is how I die. Not from old age, not from some black market drug dealer, not at Sebastian's hand, but from hypothermia. I sigh, accepting that no one is coming for me. I fall asleep to the sounds of the wolf mangling and shredding what left of my horse.
It stopped snowing I think. But the night is still young, and the temperature will only continue to drop. My clothes have started to freeze to the ground, making me unable to move. Sebastian won't come to my rescue; he doesn't hear me when I call anymore. The contract was severed, and with it our connection. Although the physical aspects remained, the pentagram still on his hand and my right eye, he doesn't know when I'm in danger or not. Which really sucks right about now.
I don't know if the wolf left or not. I can't hear him eating, but he could be resting. He could be staying warm, unlike me. Maybe, just maybe, somebody will find me. Or at the very least, my body. I'd like to be buried, not left on the ground to decompose somewhere in the forest. The cold has made a home in my body, so much so that I am finding it hard to breathe. My fingers have turned a sickening blue color. They're stiff, just like little rocks attached to my hands. Not good for anything. I can't move them, or my toes. I've never felt cold like this before.
I think I must have fallen asleep. I must have, because I'm awoken by a very wet and cold nose prodding at my face. I open my eyes, wrenching them apart because the lashes had frozen together. A dog's face is staring at me from very close. Drool hangs from his mouth, and drips on to my cheek. He looks up towards my feet, and barks rapidly. He has a collar on. Thank the lord, it's not some mutt that's going to eat me. He keeps on barking, then runs away. I hear a voice in the distance, muffled by the snow and trees. I try to speak, to make a noise. My throat is dry, but I manage to get out a small "Hello?" Footsteps approach me, slowly at first, but then faster. The crunch of the snow is loud in the night. A soft glow of the lantern illuminates my body and the ground around me.
"Hello? Anyone? Please help." I shout hoarsely. I am so tired, I try to look up, to see if there is someone coming but I can't. I don't have the energy or the strength anymore. The light gets brighter, and I can see a man holding the lantern and a shotgun. He drops the light down to his side, and stares at me.
"What in the devils name are you doing out here at this time of night young man?!" He shouts, and leans down close to my face. He sees me, actually sees me. Suddenly he's scooping me up in his arms, the dog barking like mad and running around the man in circles. I'm too tired to protest about him taking me away. I'm so tired and cold. So cold…
"Don't you worry boy, it's alright now." He whispers to me. I fall asleep in his arms, hoping that he has somewhere warm to go. Hoping he's not going to take me away like those men did after the fire.
When I wake, it's not in the freezing cold like all the other times. It's not windy or cold or damp, it's warm. There's real actual heat. I am not cold, I am warm; something I thought I would never be again. I'm warm, so warm that I'm sweating. I wipe the sweat off my forehead. That's another thing; my fingers work. They move and work and they're warm. So are my toes! My toes are warm. It's like heaven here.
I open my eyes, and see fire. First reaction is panic, I jump up and sprint across the room, looking for an exit. I whip my head around, searching for some way to escape the flames like I did all those years ago. But as I'm looking around, I don't see any other fire, don't see anything else burning. I close my eyes, and take a breath, breathing in clean air, not smoke. I'm just overreacting, there's nothing wrong. I open my eyes, and see the orange and yellow flames, contained in a fireplace. My initial reaction to all fire I suppose is to run. I go over and sit down on the sofa; it's old and well worn. It's comfy though, so I sit and relax, watching the clock that hangs above the fireplace. I don't see the time, just watch the hands tick around the circle. Minutes pass, before I hear a door open, and footsteps approach. I turn my head, and see a man in a red jacket and boots, a dog jogging along beside him. He looks friendly, a kind face, wrinkly but kind. He has a thick beard too, and large ears. The dog runs over towards me, and jumps up on the couch, lying beside me. The old man takes off his boots, and walks in to the kitchen.
"D'you want some tea?" He shouts at me from the other room. I look at him in the kitchen, his eyes focused on me, waiting.
"Um, sure. Thank you sir." I say, and he laughs.
"Don't go calling me 'sir'. Call me Charlie or Charles or just about anything else you want." He smiles at me, then puts the water on to boil. So his names Charlie… The dog beside me shifts, and places his head in my lap. That's what Sebastian used to do before he died, put his head in my lap, and I would stroke his ears. This dog is old, his face tired and droopy, but his eyes are bright like a puppies. The old man brings over the tea, and sits down with us, the dog and me, and hands me my mug.
"Thank you very much sir, oh, sorry. Charlie." I say, and take the cup from his hands. I drink in the tea, the heat of it wonderful. It's plain, regular tea, but it's some of the best I've had in a while. I hum in appreciation.
"What's yer name boy?" He asks me, resting his hand on the dog.
"Ciel." I say, watching him pat the old lab. "It's Ciel."
"Alright, Ciel, what's yer story?"
A/N: Hey guys! Just got surgery! HAHAHA that was really not fun. Not really a long chapter, but the head is still messed up. I'm just messed up in general, I have health problems. This might help with the wait though. Enjoy!
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thegraceler