something wicked...
Written for Spooktober 2021, Prompt: Wicked. Set after the defeat of the Jack's but before Bod leaves the graveyard. Comments and kudos would be awesome. Enjoy!
Silas is not in the graveyard when he senses trouble. He's out on his nightly quest for food both to quench his own specific appetites and to replenish the stores in the crypt for Bod. It is a night like any other – the moon waning overhead, a smattering of clouds in the dark sky, a sharp bite in the autumn air.
He's just finishing up with his meal when it hits him. Some intrinsic feeling of dread that, if his heart still beat in his chest, would have given it pause.
Something wicked this way comes…
He abandons his unwitting prey and races back toward the graveyard. He recognizes the threat all too well – it is a threat he used to pose.
Another of his kind is close.
Too close.
Bod is lounging in the grass, the stray cat that frequents the graveyard curled up against his side and purring contentedly in its sleep. He's engrossed in a book – Mrs. Lupescu had taken him to the library on one of her visits after he'd given up attending the local school and the concept had delighted him beyond belief. Since then, he's made many quick trips with either accompaniment or permission from Silas, though he needs no such permission any longer, given the defeat of the Jacks some months back. Tonight, he is reading Dracula, and he finds himself captivated by the story.
At least until he's pulled back to reality. Out of nowhere, something hits him.
He doesn't see it – or rather, there is nothing to see. Just a black blur of darkness that scoops him up off the ground only to throw him some considerable distance away from where he'd started. The cat hisses in protest and runs off. Bod wishes he could do the same.
He tries to yell for help, but the weight of a full on adult man, just as tall and lanky as Silas, settles on his chest and it's too much to get the words out. He tries to fade, but it doesn't work. He tries to fight, but there is something about his attacker, some sort of otherworldly strength, that makes it clear any attempt to struggle would be futile, only prolonging his inevitable defeat.
"Make it easy on yourself," the being tells him, grinning a wicked sort of fanged grin. "Stay still, stay quiet. It'll be over for you soon enough."
He can feel Bod's terror from a long ways off, even more so than he can feel the glee and delight of the one that's like him reveling in a successful hunt. He doesn't have long to stop this.
Silas explodes into the graveyard, soaring over the stones and the paths and the trees to the place where Bod is as fast as his abilities will take him, and what he sees there infuriates him.
It's been a long damn time since he's felt the urge to kill out of anything other than his duty to the Honor Guard, but now that impulse rips through him once more.
He won't let anyone or anything take Bod away from him.
Another dark blur appears out of the night, tackling the first off of him just before those razor sharp fangs can sink into his neck. A fight erupts, and it's the most violent thing Bod has ever had to see, but it ends nearly as swiftly as it began.
Silas is left standing there, looming over the still form of Bod's attacker – who, it seems, no longer poses much of a threat to anyone at all. Silas, though, appears injured, much to Bod's alarm – he's bleeding from a deep wound on his chest, and bearing more than a few bruises. He is covered in blood and guts, but Bod does not care. Shaken, Bod launches himself up off the ground and, momentarily forgetting that Silas is not the sort of person typically accepting of hugs, straight into his guardian's arms. Even Silas seems willing to make an exception for this strange occasion, because he holds tight for a moment before he gracefully moves them away from that place.
Some of the ghosts are starting to appear, no doubt curious as to this disturbance of the graveyard's usual peace and quiet, but Silas sweeps him into the crypt, away from all the prying eyes and probing questions. Only Mr. and Mrs. Owens appear inside, the latter fussing over the bruises Bod himself gained in the initial attack.
"I'm fine," he assures his mother, when he finally feels calm enough to form the words. Then, looking to Silas, he asks, "Who was that?"
"The kind of thing the Honor Guard handles," Silas explains. "The kind of monster I used to be."