-Silhouettes-
-Part Four-
Have to get home . . .
Have to get there . . .
Have to find the truth . . . The vixen chanted these words over and over in her mind, trying to rid herself of the voice as it laughed softly at her, pitying her.
You already have your truth, vixen . . .
All you seek is the end . . .
You shall see, do not fear . . .
The transition is nearly complete . . .
Throwing herself through the snow she ignored the pain in her muscles as they worked far past fatigue, ignored the burning of her footpaws as the frost tore at them, she simply ran on as if there were nothing more then the snow before her and her final destination, there was no pain, no emotion, just a simple phrase repeating over and over in her mind.
Have to get home . . .
Have to find the truth . . . Sana's thoughts echoed endlessly as she ran, stumbling through the snowdrifts, trees whipping past her in a blur, bare-limbed bushes tearing at her clothes and fur. She knew where she was going, the path was all too familiar, she knew the way by heart and soon, just as the sun began to sink from its apex she found it.
Truth . . . Her mind whispered softly, all the voices silencing themselves as she stepped into the small clearing in which her family had lived, their tent just barely showing above a drift of snow. Rushing over to the tent, the vixen fell to her knees and began to dig in the snow, tossing away the snow carelessly, uncaring for her paws as the ice stung and burned them, she only cared about the truth, any truth.
"Something, anything . . ." Sana muttered to herself as she cleared the snow away from the tent flap just enough for her to reach the small piece of metal that sealed it shut, as quickly as she could she tore open the flap, nearly ripping it from the tent before peering inside. At first she recognized it, the warm home that she had lived in for so many seasons, her family's belongings spread across the tent bottom, but soon she saw through it, a simple illusion of memory and found truth. Holes littered the tent, snow spilling into the insides, covering most of it, what was showing was rotted and seemingly ancient, left in pieces for nature to retake.
How long has it been? She wondered silently, as she collapsed on the ground, fatigue finally catching up with her, heart pounding away in her chest ceaselessly. Staring at the tent she couldn't help, but wonder, how could it have taken her so long to get from here to Saint Ninian's? It felt as though it had only been days since she had seen her family, since her home had been a warm place, a refuge from the world, but now it was in pieces, a broken window to the past. She had fallen asleep in the fall and awakened in the winter, whatever was in between was beyond her comprehension, beyond a simple explanation.
Where are they?
Why aren't they here?
Why did they leave? A pitiful voice whispered in the dark recesses of her mind, a child's voice, eerily familiar as it spoke in pained and confused tones, no beast to comfort it as it sat alone in the darkness, isolated from the world.
They aren't coming back, child . . .
They have left this plane . . .
They cannot come back now . . . Another familiar voice answered the child as the vixen felt consciousness slipping away from her, the dark walls coming around her. Quite suddenly she found herself in darkness, a single light seemingly shining on a young vixen, perhaps only barely out of her dibbunhood, who sat in the corner of what seemed be a small room, hugging her knees close to her, the soft sounds of crying filling the room.
"Why can't they?" The little fox maid asked through her sobs, glancing up at Sana with mournful eyes, but she couldn't move, she found herself rooted to the spot. "Why can't they be here?"
"Once you leave you cannot come back." The voice replied, echoing about the room as a cloaked figure stepped from behind Sana, walking to the younger vixen's side, kneeling down next to her. "Do not worry, it was the right thing, my dear."
"Why?" The young vixen asked as tears flowed freely from her eyes, staining her cheek fur as she stared at her paws, died crimson with blood.
"Do not worry, all shall become clear soon . . ." The cloaked beast whispered softly before fading away into the darkness, the light suddenly spreading to reveal the scene, a forest lay deathly silent around them, only Sana and the younger vixen left in the small clearing.
Not this . . . Such a familiar place, a familiar time, such a familiar emotion Sana found herself wrapped within. Falling to her knees she found herself within the same nightmare, her parents stood, bound to a pair of wooden stakes, their blood running from their bodies into the river. Their lifeless eyes stared up from unrecognizable faces, their bodies cut to ribbons, much of it missing.
Not this again . . .
I won't believe it . . .
I can't . . . Sana whispered silently in her mind, squeezing her eyes shut, refusing to see the scene laid out before her, the last bits of innocence clinging to past images and memories, happier times.
Believe it, vixen . . .
All you have left now is the truth . . .
That is why you are here is it not? The voice asked her and she felt a paw upon her shoulder, a comforting paw, its claws digging into her shoulder gently.
Not this kind of truth . . .
Not this . . . She whispered in response, the last of her innocence clinging onto existence as she felt the emotions draining away.
Ah . . .
Only wish to see the truth palatable to you?
How naïve . . .
It is little wonder that you walk in darkness . . . The voice replied with a soft chuckle, the paw fading away slowly as the vixen felt something lift itself from her mind, leaving nothing behind. A great weight had been lifted, in its place came strength, the fear were gone and she found herself with nothing to make her real, she found herself alone with the shadows. The darkness held comfort, it had taken away all the pain, it hid it in the shadows where no beast could see it, unknown and unfelt.
And so it ends . . .
Welcome to the shadows, dear vixen . . .
---
"Hm . . .I know that book is around here somewhere . . ." Father Samuel whispered to himself as he searched through his personal library back within the warm confines of Saint Ninian's. Running a paw over the spines of the many books, mainly books of conduct as well as the personal journals of all the fathers that had come before him with a few legends thrown in here and there. The old mouse had read most if not all of these books during his time in service to the church, beginning when he had been a simple child, looking for some purpose in life.
Ah, here you are. He thought silently as his paw stopped on the spine of an old, worn book. Pulling it from the bookshelf, Samuel wandered over to his reading chair, staring out the window for a moment, hopeful to see some sign of Sana, Ciel or John. They had all been gone quite a while, Ciel and John going off to track the vixen as soon as she seemingly disappeared from the church bed. Plopping down in his chair, the old mouse glanced over the book he's taken from the shelf, finding it too be quite old and fragile, the leather cover stretched and coming apart in several places, the title had long since worn off from time, but of course, one must never judge a book by its cover.
Opening it carefully, the old mouse began to read silently to himself, it was a legend he knew well, one that nearly all beasts knew to some extent, the tale of the dark forest. Though its origins had long since been lost in time, the book had no references to its creation, only its existence and its purpose. Reading on through the parts he knew, mainly just theory on what it was like there, purely speculation since very few beasts ever came back from such a place. Finally the old mouse found what he was looking for, the legend of the 'Gate Keeper', the guardian, the 'Silhouette' of the Dark Forest as it was often called.
It had been one of the many stories about the Dark Forest that had been forgotten over the seasons, fading into obscurity, remembered only as a faint legend recorded in books. Many of the previous fathers of Saint Ninian's had called the story a fairy tale, dismissing as simple fiction, mainly for the terrible consequence of the existence of such a creature, but Father Samuel had been fascinated by the story, a strange sort of curiosity filling him when he had read the story for the first time as a young beast. He still remembered the tale nearly by heart.
The Gate Keeper of the Dark Forest was not a beast by any stretch nor had it ever been one, it was at most a personification of the forest itself, a silhouette of it, a mere shadow in the darkness that beasts would pass on their where to find loved ones past and friends gone. It was created of pieces of the beasts that lived there, taking away the pain of death that many beasts had upon reaching the metaphysical plane, death's were seldom enjoyable and with such a memory few beast's souls could survive the transition from life to death. It had been for this purpose that the Keeper had been born into existence and it was in this regard that it served the beasts of the physical plane, living off of death itself.
Unfortunately, as with all things, there were consequences for these actions, as the 'Silhouette' absorbed the pain, the sorrow and the shock from the dead it would slowly become corrupted, until it was cast from the metaphysical plane, finding its way into the physical world where it was to starve, but nothing ever works out so simply. Whenever a Keeper was cast out it would survive for perhaps only a limited time in the real world, able to feed off of the corruption of the living, the pain and suffering. Many times this could end in carnage, as the Keeper would corrupt beasts, turning them against one another, almost always ending in bloodshed. Where and when such events happened was purely chance.
Closing the book slowly, Father Samuel leaned back in his chair with a soft sigh. He hoped that he was wrong. That it would all be proven to be some twisted fantasy the old mouse had believed in, a simple ghost story and nothing more. Glancing out the window he hoped that the vixen would be all right, as well as Ciel and John, they had all been away for so long, already the sun had begun to fall from its place in the heavens, journeying slowly towards the horizon, obscured by the winter clouds, snow flakes falling softly to the earth.
"Pray that I am wrong. Pray that I am wrong." The old mouse whispered in a tired voice, stretching in the his old reading chair a bit before pushing himself into the cushioning, everything seemed to tire him out these days. He knew he was getting on in his seasons, but he hated not having the energy, he couldn't even read without tiring. Yawning the father pulled his robes tightly around his body, shivering in the room despite the roaring fires below.
Tomorrow is another day . . . The mouse though to himself before the world faded away into darkness and the mouse felt himself fade into the unconscious realm, reality fading away rapidly as he suddenly found himself in a very familiar place. Opening his eyes the old mouse found himself in the main hall of the church, his perspective of the world around him shifting slowly before him, glancing around it seemed normal enough.
"Hello?" Father Samuel called out softly, he felt as though somebeast were watching him, something wasn't right.
"Hello, Father." A soft, feminine voice replied from behind the mouse, its tone full of sorrow. Turning around slowly the old mouse found a tiny beast sitting there in one of the church pews, a young vixen maid with dark red fur, that seemed to be strangely familiar to the mouse.
"And who might you be, my child?" The Father asked in a soft voice, not wishing to scare the little vixen.
"I am no beast." She whispered in response, her staring down at the floor in sorrow, she looked almost angry with herself. "I used to be, but not anymore."
"What do you mean by that?" Father Samuel asked, confused by the child's words as he walked slowly up the aisle towards her, slipping into the neighboring pew.
"I meant what I said." She muttered in response, sighing heavily as leaned on the pew before her.
"What are you doing here?" Father Samuel asked, trying to change the subject to something more understandable.
"Condolence, forgiveness . . .I'm not really sure myself. But now I'm here, what else matters?" She whispered with a soft chuckle.
"Condolence? Forgiveness? Why?" The old mouse asked, staring at the vixen for a moment, wondering how a child could have something so serious to need his forgiveness. The vixen looked up from the floor at the mouse for a moment before she smiled at him softly, staring into his eyes before holding up her paws and he saw it, from the tips of her claws to her elbows her fur was dyed crimson with blood, some of it still dripping from her body. "What did you do?" At first the mouse though that she had cut herself and immediately rushed to her side, but he found no cuts, no gashes on her arms, it was another beast's blood.
"I've come to warn you of the shadows. They are coming and this is what they shall do." She whispered softly, as the mouse help her arms, a mix of shock and disgust on his face. "The 'Silhouettes' are coming, you should flee while you can."
The Silhouettes?
They're coming?
But isn't this a dream? The old mouse whispered silently, before a sudden sound caught his attention, a banging on the church gates.
"Run Samuel . . ." The vixen whispered and suddenly Father Samuel found himself clutching air, the vixen had vanished, leaving an empty pew before him as the knocking continued. "Goodbye . . ." Her voice echoed softly in the hall, a whispered afterthought.
Welcome to illusion, dear mouse . . .
Welcome to the shadows . . . A voice whispered as somebeast whispered in his mind, as the old mouse felt the fur on the back of his neck stand on end, something was terribly wrong.
"Who's there?" He called out in a nervous voice, shivering slightly as he felt his skin crawl, a cold chill coursing down his spine from his head to the tip of his tail.
Come now, mouse, you know the stories . . .
You know what I am . . .
"No, you're just a story." The old mouse wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, but he knew he'd failed, he knew exactly what it was. "Keeper?"
"Exactly . . ." The voice answered, but no longer was it simply a voice in the back of the mouse's mind, there it stood before him, a figure cloaked in black robes, silhouette of the Dark Forest. "And you must know why I am here." Slowly the figure walked forwards, the darkness slowly fading away to reveal a young mouse, a twisted smile upon its face.
"Why?"
"Oh come now, you've read the stories, there is always truth to be found in legends. It is not as if it is such a foreign concept to your kind." The mouse sneered, as he stood just before the Father, a look of anger washing over its face.
"What is it?"
"Survival, your basic instinct and now mine as well thanks to your kind." The mouse sneered, spitting onto the ground next to the older mouse in disgust. "You are my corruption." Suddenly the mouse seemingly dissipated into darkness, reverting back to its true form as it still spoke.
You are to be dealt with slowly for your crimes . . .
All shall be as it should be . . . The voice whispered in a soft emotionless tone as the shadow gathered as Father Samuel watched helplessly, rooted to the spot as though he were a statue. Suddenly it spilled forward, the darkness pouring into the mouse's body, a pain like nothing he had ever felt coursing through him, tearing at his very soul.
As it should be . . . Those were the last words that Father Samuel ever heard as in the physical plane the mouse's body gave a great shudder, slipping from the chair onto the wooden floor Saint Ninian. Then with a single last gasping breath the mouse's body shook horribly and then laid still, a small trail of blood flowing from his mouth onto the wood, staining it crimson.
As it should be . . . The voice echoed once more in the Father's chambers as the shadows crept from their corpse, fleeing out the window into the rapidly darkening world below, there was work to be done.