Feedback is encouraged, and I'm sorry if this chapter is long! I live for long chapters. Thanks for taking the time to read this to anyone who is and special thanks to: Fumiko15, Dandelion Floof, and James Birdsong for the reviews! :)
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Chapter 2: In Which Howl Eats a Heart
Curious chocolate eyes observed the feathers on Howl's skin as they gradually forced themselves back into his flushed flesh through the minor punctures they'd already produced. Those same eyes rounded when Howl's face became taut and he threw his head back, projecting a perturbed snarl from his throat. The way his eyes clamped shut—and the downward curling of his quivering lips as he squirmed in an effort to alleviate his excruciating discomfort—warned Sophie that the pain he was experiencing must've been intense.
Howl was shuddering, and she felt as uncomfortable as he looked.
Instead of running away, which she very well ought to have done, Sophie couldn't help but sympathize with the wizard as she watched him. Howl's wardrobe had slowly begun to emerge into existence the more the feathers were pulled into his flesh, and once the dark blue had completely diminished, his clothes were fully formed—save for his jacket, which he'd left on the street to be forgotten before he took Sophie dancing on the clouds earlier.
With a groan, he rested on his knees and hunched forward, pressing his palms against the earth. It was his turn to catch his breath, and when his eyes met Sophie's, he quirked a brow. "You're still here…" he commented. He sounded a little raspier than his normal pitch—as if he needed some water after a long run to replenish and quench his thirst.
Sophie could only stare in reply, blinking to fix the dryness in her eyes. I just have to remember that he can't kill me…
"You are aware that I just attempted to murder you?" Howl was speaking in a cautious tone, and a bit incredulously. "Aren't you?" Has she gone mad?
Sophie acknowledged this with a quick bow of her head. "Quite."
"...Then why are you still here?"
"You…" Sophie took a moment to respond, pressing her lips in a tight line. "You're unable to kill me."
But I'm not unable to truly harm you. Howl took in her words with a contemplative hum as he touched his chin with his index finger in a fluid motion—despite his fatigue. "Not at the moment. No. But that doesn't mean I won't try later." I'll keep pursuing you… whoever you are.
Sophie looked a little timid upon hearing that, but she refused to allow fear to dominate her expression. Instead she narrowed her eyes at him, pursing her lips. "Even if I run away, you'd find me, wouldn't you? Because of your curse…?" She didn't know all of its effects, but she had a good assumption about the gist of it.
He simply blinked, refusing to answer her.
"…Why my heart?"
If you hadn't looked at me in such a way, he thought. "Not in that way…"
"In what way?" she asked, sounding intrigued.
Howl's expression was gentler now, almost calm in a way. There was no roughness flickering within his eyes, and his brows were relaxed and neutral. He simply lifted both shoulders before sinking them. "As if you knew—or at least suspected…" When he saw the surprise fluttering in her eyes, he sighed. "I can't have any witnesses."
"I won't tell anyone," Sophie said automatically. Her voice sounded final, however, Howl felt hesitant to trust her—and she certainly shouldn't have expected otherwise. The only person he trusted was Markl, and even then he kept the youth just at arms length.
"...Where do you live?" he asked. "The Witch of the Waste was roaming around and she's already seen you." Sophie had thought he actually cared for her well-being until he added, "And I'd hate to have her kill you before I can."
At least he was honest….
Contrary to her frown, Sophie felt as if she had the upper hand against the heart collector, giving him a shake of her head. "You said so earlier that I cursed myself to protect myself against harm from you…"
"Yes."
"But I haven't changed since we've been speaking," she clarified. "Which means that perhaps you haven't been thinking about it…?"
Howl's lips parted at the news of the revelation, but once he became aware of what he'd tried to do earlier—aware of her heart—he saw Sophie's skin begin to change again into the dry wrinkles he'd seen before—and a larger nose to match. Her figure had increased by a vast amount to the point of it being squeezed into the dress she wore, and as her body expanded under the fabric, he could easily hear the material stretch. Sophie's hair began to fade into a dull shade of grey. It also became shortened by quite a few inches, but it remained in the braid she wore with the pink ribbon at the bottom…
A quivering finger—a benign symptom that was presumably the cause of one suffering from old age—pointed at him in agitation. "Will you stop that?!" a ghastly voice asked. Sophie's once soft tone sounded uncanny to Howl now, nothing appealing at all.
Despite this, he half-smiled once he became mindful that he'd gotten a rise out of her, and he began relishing in how nice it felt to tease her... until he heard her harsh cough. It's no wonder she didn't have a heart attack during the fall. He got to his feet quickly, pacing over to her in quick strides before he knelt and offered her his hands.
Large, elderly eyes gave him an objective look. "Don't let this old body fool you. I'm perfectly capable of getting up myself. "
The defiance in her tone actually sounds adorable, the wizard mused.
Howl's right brow slowly rose, and when Sophie saw the mirth dancing in his eyes, she asked, "What?"
"A murderer is offering you help, and all you're thinking about is your age," he assessed. His index finger arched as he rested it on his chin, grinning. "I think the old age has made you senile." Her face flushed, but Howl didn't catch what she'd grumbled under her breath. She seemed much more cheeky and none too shy at all in her current state…
I suppose it comes with the curse, he pondered, reaching to take her hand once more. "Come on now. Let's get you away before someone sees." She looked like she'd seen better days, and he didn't want the Witch of the Waste following them again.
Even though he'd taken her hand, Sophie snatched it away. "Now see here! Don't underestimate me just because I'm old!" Her wild yelling sounded at a lower volume than a younger person's might've, but all the same, Howl felt his patience running thin.
"Listen," he said in a clipped tone. "I don't like quarrels."
Sophie scoffed, smacking her chapped lips as she bravely poked him in the chest. "You don't seem to like anything that puts you at a disadvantage, Howl." It was the first time she'd spoken his name and the haughty manner in which she'd spoken it had gotten the perfect reaction out of the man. His eyes became hooded by the way his brows began to furrow. It gave off a murderous impression, but Sophie regarded this with the most unperturbed of stares in her crinkled eyes. If anything, she was enjoying telling him off.
Instead of lashing out with vicious choice of words, Howl took a moment to collect himself and give her a blank stare. "You know nothing about me." There was no evidence of him sounding infuriated, just a quiet acceptance of what she'd said.
"Likewise," she countered. She stood on her own—albeit with a struggle, since she was groaning and it'd taken her over a minute to finally get to her feet—but once she had, she straightened up and felt her back crack. "Oh goodness," she said to herself, walking off. Her hand was touching her aching neck and she felt in desperate need of a cane.
Howl stood as well, rubbing his temples as he followed behind her by about a yard. "I don't understand…" A hint of defeat laced in his low pitch.
Over her shoulder, Sophie beamed at him. "Still thinking about eating me, eh?"
Oh, don't look so smug. "…You've no idea," he said in a conflicted tone. It wasn't as if he truly wanted to be this way, after all.
Sophie's eyes rounded as she fully turned to get a good look at him. He was literally walking behind her with a bit of a drag to his steps while he remained hunched over. His hair was falling forward to shield his expression from view, but from what Sophie just heard, it was obvious Howl's body was acting on impulse; it was acting on…
On his curse…
It wasn't until Howl accidentally bumped into her that he paused and took a few retreating steps back, only to sluggishly take another one forward.
It's almost as if he's a slave to his own body, Sophie thought.
When Howl noticed her staring, he ducked his head further. "…Who are you?" She was maddening him in more ways way than he'd like to admit.
She hadn't meant to sound teasing, but she answered, "Just call me Grandma Sophie!"
All the same, it at least made him meet her gaze and his lips twitch into a small smile. "Well, Sophie…" He touched his chest with his right hand, bowing slightly. "I'm Howl." She knew his name, just never his face until today.
"Well Howl, come on then." Sophie hitched her thumb over her shoulder. "My home is this way." She cackled when she saw the way Howl's brows furrowed and how baffled he seemed. "I don't know what's happened to me to the fullest, but I'm sure you do, so we'll discuss everything there in private. Hopefully by the time we get there I'll have wrapped my head around this…"
Howl sighed, falling into step behind her as she marched ahead with one mission in mind. "…You're foolish."
"You can't hurt me." She sounded sure of it.
He laxly reached forward to touch her left shoulder, causing them both to pause mid-step. "I can hurt you, Sophie." His voice sounded strained and the barely noticeable despair laced within it went undetected by Sophie. "I just can't kill you. Always remember that." Please remember that…
"But you haven't tried to harm me once since then," she reminded him, never turning to face him.
"I've thought about it plenty," he warned. "Even now. Why do you think you haven't changed back yet?"
Sophie wasn't backing down from her assumption. "You tried to help me stand before..." There's some good in you.
"Have you considered that perhaps it's part of my curse?" He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before he released it. "It's easier to kill someone when they can trust me." They approach me as if I'm not a threat.
She didn't sound fazed in the least, but she did cough when she felt a tickle in her throat so she was quick to cover her mouth with her right forearm. Once she lowered it, she said, "Oh? I've always thought it to be the opposite—that it'd be difficult to kill someone who trusts you."
Howl pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket, offering it to her over her right shoulder while the cloth rested between his index and middle finger. Once she accepted it, he said, "Not if you don't trust them in return." He tensed as she began to cough once more. "The feelings have to be mutual." He was lying through his teeth, of course. He cared for everyone he'd slaughtered. He was just unable to admit it—another element of his curse.
"You're not afraid," he murmured after they fell into step. It was whispered more like a question, though.
She gave him a mindful stare as he went to walk beside her on her left. "I think the nice thing about getting old is the fact that you've already lived." She shrugged absently, clasping her shaking hands in front of her. "So you've got nothing else to lose."
Creases of confusion formed on Howl's forehead while he scrutinized her relaxed demeanor. "That may be true, but in your case I think your curse has given you these feelings. In reality, you're young and you haven't lived at all, Sophie."
She pressed her lips in a tight line, narrowing her eyes. "You know nothing about me, Howl."
"Likewise, old-timer," he retorted, teasing her once more.
Eventually, peevish looks were exchanged between the duo before they paced the rest of the way in silence. Thankfully, Howl's previous pursuers, the Witch of the Waste and her minions, were nowhere in sight…
As the sun had fully set and the darkness cloaked the sky, Howl and Sophie finally reached her home. It was a tall brown building with a stairs attached, and a flower shop was constructed on the other side of the lane. A long walkway led to the front door of her home, with three wooden beams to support the covering that made up the base of the second floor. A window nearest the front door had beautiful flowers—carnations, lilies and roses that were orange, pink, red and yellow—on display there in a vibrant green vase, adding to the homely feeling.
Nevertheless, the entire area seemed to resemble a ghost town's awakening. No one seemed to be around, and all were out celebrating… Except for the two peculiar cursed souls bound together by the cruelest of fates: Howl and Sophie.
The perfect murder scenario, Howl mused. He flinched at the thought, reaching up to rub his temples. "We could've gotten here sooner if we'd—"
"I'm not dancing on anymore clouds with you," Sophie warned. Both became unaware of the fact that Sophie's voice was sounding youthful again, or that she had regained a little more energy than she had lost previously, despite her old age still being visible.
Howl smirked, loving that she was once again riled up. "But haven't you ever wondered what it'd be like to dance with fireworks surrounding you?" The idea thrilled him; a captivating love scenario indeed.
"We'd spend more time dodging them than dancing amongst them," she grumbled, sticking her nose towards the sky as she made a 'hmph' noise of disapproval. As she did this, her eyes rounded while catching a glimpse of red and purple fireworks exploding above them. The sight of the flashing colors caused her lips to part.
When Howl noticed her staring, he glanced up to follow her line of vision. "I suppose trying to avoid all those would be a challenge…" But not impossible...
"They're beautiful," she said absently.
Howl agreed with a light hum. "Like shooting stars, only they fade faster."
Sophie turned to him, and Howl was startled to see that she was her young, shy self again, even more startled to see that the ends of her lips had softly curled upward and there was a bit of a twinkle in her eyes. He'd missed the fact that he wasn't thinking about taking her heart… "Except you can't make a wish on fireworks," Sophie pointed out. "That's why stars are magical…"
He crossed his arms, scrutinizing her with impartialness projecting from his eyes. "…Sophie?"
"Yes?"
She seemed quite beautiful when she wasn't overtly timid… Something about that stare—or perhaps the confident way she'd articulated her thoughts—had given her more appeal. Instead of voicing this, Howl simply said, "Shall we go inside?"
A blush spread across her cheeks, highlighting her eyes. "R-right…" She hurried down the walkway that led to the front door, and as she turned to him and said, "T-this way," he was careful to duck his head so that he could use his hair to shield the amused simper he couldn't seem to remove from his lips. It was growing as much as her uneasiness exuded through the shaking movements of her hands while she pulled her small iron key out the pocket of her dress. Quivering fingers attempted three times to push it into the keyhole before a hand covered her own.
"Allow me," he said, pushing the key in with ease. Once he twisted both their palms, they heard a click and the door unlocked. He didn't miss the jittery way Sophie gulped and pocketed the key once more.
Upon entering, Sophie shut the door behind them and brushed her bangs to one side out of nervousness. It was unseemly to have a man in her home—and without proper supervision! It… it simply wasn't done, and if anyone found out about this, her reputation would be at stake—rumors would swirl—she wasn't entirely sure whether or not her stepmother could handle it, either. It was crucial not to allow Howl to be seen.
She almost laughed at the idea, knowing that hiding and running away was the wizard's specialty...
Then again, for Sophie's ordinary lifestyle, having a man being discovered in her home would be the highlight of her year.
It's not as if he thinks I'm beautiful, Sophie reminded herself. He just wants to eat my heart… but he isn't thinking about it right now. She saw his eyes scanning over the layout of her home with the simplest of stares—which was difficult to do in the dark…
In the light, he would've seen the bright red rug in the middle of the wooden floor, the dated, but not shabby, yellow sofa and chairs, the beige wallpaper—along with the bookshelf that resided on the farthest end—the stairs to the right, and the simple brown colored kitchen to the left that was separated by a large mahogany frame…
Howl looked composed to her in the darkness from where he stood beside the open window, where the vase filled with flowers resided. It almost appeared as if he were excited to be there… nothing at all like a murderer…
Remember that he tried to kill you, she mused, scolding herself. But he might know a way to help… even if it could be for his own benefit.
However, Sophie shook the thought away and made sure to twist the latch on the bronze lock. Next, she moved to the window he'd been standing in front of, pulling the blue drapes shut and she hurried past him, grabbing his right arm in the process. "This way," she whispered.
He followed her, humoring her. "Why are you whispering?" he asked. Both of them were tripping up each step as they ascended to the second floor, but they never fell over, thanks to the wooden railing they clutched. "And can't you light a candle?" It was far too dark to see.
"I don't want anyone to know that we're here if they should come home," she murmured. She was taking extreme measures of caution, and Howl assessed that it was undoubtedly due to nerves. If they were discovered and he thought of eating her heart in their presence, Sophie would revert to the elderly woman from before and she might explain what happened to her, which would cause more people to match a face with that unidentified bounty poster he knew she kept hidden in her pocket.
Another possibility breached his thoughts: Sophie Hatter had probably never tried anything scandalous in her life… She could've been a goody-good.
He chuckled lightly as they finally reached the top of the stairs and Sophie turned to the left, leading them down the hall. Once they'd gotten to her room, she touched the knob and released a long sigh.
"Don't try anything," she warned.
Howl scoffed. "You're being dramatic, Sophie."
"You tried to kill me."
"Now you remember?" She'd never forgotten.
Sophie snapped her head towards the sound of his voice. It was frighteningly dark, and Howl resembled a terrifying shadow creature. "We have to talk about my curse," she said, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. As her opened window came to view, the moonlight made their gazes towards each other known… and also the smirk playing on Howl's lips.
He stepped around her and into her tidy, brown wallpapered room to see the bed on the left wall, right in the center with dull green sheets. An oak desk was beside the large, opened rectangular window and there was a small chair to match that had been angled slightly—as if the last occupant had hurried out without properly positioning it back in place. A few documents lay on top of the desk, along with an abandoned red fountain pen. On the other side of the room—the right wall—a small closet was near, and a small, square green rug with small pink roses in the design was on the floor. Sophie's room certainly wasn't divine in decoration by any means, but it did have a rather inviting feel… a quirky easiness about it…
The way the glow of the moon struck everything gave Howl a darker sensation, though. He quietly went over to the window as Sophie shut her door, and he pulled it closed, locking the latch. "Let's discuss a few things, shall we?"
"Let's," Sophie agreed. She stood there awkwardly, leaning her back against the door while Howl did the same against the window frame. "What did I do to myself, Howl?"
"I tried to kill you," he said simply, shrugging. "So you cursed yourself to avoid the repercussions of my curse."
"But I'm no witch," she stated.
A glint of disbelief flashed in Howl's eyes as he gave a light chuckle, before he seated himself on the edge of her bed with his back facing her curious form. A small ticking sound garnered his attention and he glanced over at the desk. He'd missed the small silver pocket watch near the papers and fountain pen…
Sophie followed his eyes and her smile was tight—but not in a peevish way. It almost appeared as if she were holding back tears… As her heels kissed the floor with each step, she felt her eyes begin to sting, and by the time she reached the desk, gentle fingers brushed over the silver. "It was my fathers…"
The intimate way she admired the small device gave Howl the impression that perhaps the man was deceased. "…Sophie?"
"Yes?"
"Your curse," he started again. "I've heard of the magic used to conjure it before…"
Her eyes darted towards his. "Really? What kind is it?" She didn't know much about types herself—at all really—but she felt the need to ask.
"I believe it's ancient sorcery."
"Ancient?" she asked, stepping closer to him. Her head was titled to the left. "What do you mean?"
He gave her an absent wave of his hand, unsure of what he was truly saying himself—only going by what he detected. "I don't know the best way to explain this, but I can sense a magical seal on your heart that only derives from ancient sorcery—forbidden teachings that I've only dreamed about learning." Even Suliman warned me against pursuing that type of magic during that apprenticeship… I'll bet the Witch of the Waste would know all about it, but…
He wasn't exactly on good terms with the woman.
Sophie felt as perplexed as she looked and when she pressed her lips in a tight line, Howl could tell she was trying to process her dilemma. "Meaning?"
"Whatever you've unknowingly conjured up, it's what's keeping you safe from me." He lifted his index finger, pointing at her chest as she seated herself beside him. "The seal you've placed on your heart can be unlocked…" He touched his chin with the tips of his fingers while he contemplated, feeling creases form on his forehead as his brows knitted. "Every seal has a lock…" Gentle digits tapped against his skin absently. "And with every lock there's a key…"
"Find the key and I'll return to normal," Sophie mused to herself, staring out the window. A green firework in the shape of a star had erupted.
Howl gave her a sad smile. "Find the key and I won't hesitate to kill you."
Sophie snapped her head at him. "Howl… I…"
"My curse is designed so that once I find a target, I can't let up," he said.
Sophie's shoulders sank. "At all…?" When he shook his head, she asked, "Have you ever tried?"
"I can't count on both hands how many times I've tried and failed…" He hunched over and propped his forearms on his thighs. "The outcome is always the same. I'm bound to it."
The silence that flooded the room was enough to make Sophie's heart sink. "Can you explain the details of your curse so that perhaps I can understand mine?" When Howl refused to speak, she asked, "Please, Howl? Just tell me if the rumors were true… Do you really eat hearts?"
His face was twisting into one of guilt and torture. "I…"
Minutes trickled by and before Sophie could ask anything else, Howl parted his lips. "…I meet a pretty young girl, I pursue her, and her will is taken over by the curse… Once that happens, she's mine. I either take her heart then and there, or I court her for a while—sometimes to the point where she'll fall in love with me…" He tossed her a glance. "And then I'll eat her heart."
"Why court them just to kill them?"
"The fun of it, I suppose. Every man likes a chase…" He'd spoken it in the quietest of voices, almost as if he were afraid to admit it.
Sophie didn't blame his tone. "…Is that feeling an effect of the curse?"
"Yes and no," he confessed. "I'll also add that I collect some of them—only the ones that gave me a challenge—trophies. I think I'll collect yours when all of this is over…" He hadn't meant to voice that last of his sentence, but the truth was out.
She eyed him with a chill creeping down her spine and it was making goose bumps appear on her arms. Out of comfort, she hugged herself, rubbing her arms in search of warmth. "You said something before about 'will?'"
He gave her a tired nod, resting his face in his hands. It looked a bit dramatic, like he had earlier when he accused Sophie of scuffing his jacket—pettish even. "Every heart has will and yours is very strong. I felt it before you cursed yourself… You would've been a challenge to pursue either way."
"Why did I curse myself to such an old age?"
"My curse only applies to young women, not women old enough to be my grandmother twice over… Beauty is the key, Sophie, and as time progresses, we all lose that."
Sophie frowned upon hearing his words. "But…" Her gaze drifted to the floor and she plopped her hands into her lap, twirling them absently. "I'm not really pretty, Howl… So, it's pointless to pursue me…"
Sophie, you're beautiful. He had to stop himself from blurting it out. "Why else would the curse attract me to you…? And for that matter, why would you feel the need to make a defense against my curse at all?" He lowered his hands and took in her insecure demeanor. There's nothing worse than a girl who doesn't know how attractive she is… nothing worse than killing someone just because of their appearance. And idea hit him, one that he knew could end up harming either himself or her, but he had to try… "Sophie?"
Her brown eyes met his, shining with inquisitiveness. "Yes…?"
He'd made up his decision. It was the only plan to possibly help them both; he just hadn't worked out the kinks. "…If you're looking for a way to break your curse, I'll help." Maybe you can help me break my own along the way… When Sophie gazed at him with parted lips and round eyes, he added, "But only because once you do, I'll be forced to eat your heart, Sophie." It was partially true, but Howl had ulterior motives…
Sophie couldn't hide the despair on her face. "How would you help if you want to eat my heart?"
If Calcifer can give her a few hints then perhaps she'd be able to solve both of our problems… She did use ancient sorcery, after all… He didn't answer her, instead opting to ask, "Do you want to keep changing into an old woman? Because I won't let up on thoughts of killing you if you stay here—even around your family. And you know that I'm still perfectly capable of harming you whether you're young or old, Sophie."
"No, but I don't want to die, either…"
"Then solve my curse before I can solve yours," he said simply. "That way we both live." It seemed reasonable enough, however…
She tossed him an affronted glance. "That's not fair, Howl. You're a wizard; you've had time to study magic…" She huffed, gazing out the window. "And all I've ever done is work in a hat shop…" She was at an extreme disadvantage.
Howl leaned back, placing his palms on the bed so that he could shift all of his weight onto them. "It was you who cursed yourself, Sophie. That counts for more than you'd think." Find some courage, Sophie. You can do it.
She was his only option at the moment—and a vital one at that.
Sophie Hatter was his last hope before he opted to do something drastic...
Her lips parted in surprise, but he ignored it as he stood, and when he began pacing towards the door of her room, she slowly rose to her feet. The silence was deafening, and the only thing to remind Sophie that she could hear perfectly was the spontaneous blasting of fireworks outside and then the erratic thumping of her heart that followed. "Howl… I don't want to die."
"I can't name one human that does," he countered, teasing her. Upon turning, he saw that her eyes were boring into his own, almost pleading him to spare her in a way… "Then you'll just have to play the game and win."
"Which game would that be?"
He offered her the grimmest of smiles, propping his knuckles on his hips. "I assumed it to be a game of Cat and Mouse at first, but now I'm more keen to playing Finders Keepers."
"You're horrible," she bit out when her ears picked up on the playful tone of his voice. Horrible Howl was her first thought. Murderer Howl had been her second.
"I'm a murderer," he reminded. And a wizard…
Sophie shook her head. "Only half of you..." She hadn't changed into an old woman since he'd entered her home, and she knew that counted for something. "I'm going to help us, Howl. I promise… Neither of us deserves this." She was sure there was good in him. He hadn't tried to harm her at all…
Howl chortled lightly; running his hands through his hair while glints of skepticism glimmered in his eyes. "I deserve my curse, Sophie, but you don't deserve yours."
"No one deserves to unwilling go around slaughtering people, Howl."
I beg to differ. "Whatever you say…" He turned to open the door of her room, only to shut it and march over to the window he had locked. As he opened the latch, and pushed the glass forward on the left side so that it protruded out, he said, "Tomorrow morning then."
Sophie blinked. "T-tomorrow?"
"Yes…" He sounded hesitant to add, "I'll show you the biggest hint to breaking my curse." He started to hoist himself on the window's ledge, stepping up first with his right foot and gripping the frame with his left hand, but hearing Sophie's voice made him pause.
"You're going to go eat that girl's heart," she whispered. "Aren't you…?"
Howl made a disagreeable 'tch' sound as he closed his eyes and bowed his head. "...Be sure to lock this window." A deplorable simper of some sorts formed on Howl's lips as he jumped down to the street below.
"Howl, wait!" he heard her call.
Nothing in his mind felt as if it were his own as he landed on the stone and hurried off. Every human thought he had suddenly vanished into a relic of what once was, while something in his chest awakened and erupted like heated coal was being pushed into his chest. He hissed out discomfort, touching the area.
I know you're waiting in that very spot, he thought, clutching the fabric of his tunic. He felt frantic of what was to come, alarmed… not human. I wonder if by the end of this I'll be able to remember if I ever was human…
He knew the worse was yet to come.
It took Howl a good twenty minutes to wander the streets, and once he had, he found the girl exactly as he'd last seen her, standing in the exact spot he'd first met her, at the end of the street he slowly turned onto. Her green eyes were gazing at the sky while the fireworks burst and called out to the world from above, and like a child in awe, the teenage girl was entirely engrossed in them. Her green eyes were twinkling with excitement, and Howl found the ends of his lips curling downward.
Howl bowed his head, shaking it from side to side. Here we go again… He was fighting a losing battle within his own soul between a false appetite and genuine penitence… Part of him was determined to consume the girl's heart and yet, part of him desired to spare her. The only thing that made him pause was the thought of Sophie.
"My curse is designed so that once I find a target, I can't let up," he said.
Sophie's shoulders sank. "At all…?" When he shook his head, she asked, "Have you ever tried?"
"I can't count on both hands how many times I've tried and failed…" He hunched over and propped his forearms on his thighs. "The outcome is always the same. I'm bound to it."
Howl took in a deep breath and he turned to his left, attempting to pace back the way he'd came, only to have his body involuntarily jerk to face the girl he'd been pursuing. As he approached her from behind, he lifted his right hand and forcefully covered it over her mouth to muffle her scream.
She shrieked until she saw that it was him and when he lowered his palm, the smile he gave her was false.
"You're here," she breathed out.
Again, he thought of Sophie. "Have you ever tried?" He blinked the memory away, and took the girl's left hand in both of his. "I told you I would be…" Run is what he wanted to scream at her, but every time his lips parted, they abruptly shut.
I feel so strange, the girl thought. She knew she shouldn't be there, but she couldn't help but trust Howl. She felt… safe, and yet she couldn't understand why. Even as Howl offered her the most sadistic of smiles, she couldn't stop herself from giving him a soft one in return. Even as he lowered his head to give her one final kiss, she didn't suspect that these were her last moments in Market Chipping, nor did she notice the black talons inching out of what used to be his fingernails as he placed his hand on her waist and trailed it up to her chest.
It wasn't until their lips brushed for the briefest of seconds that she felt small pricks against her skin—a small, teasing tapping of what felt like five needles—that she comprehended her eyes had closed. When she opened them, all she saw were contrite eyes that didn't match the wicked grin on Howl's lips…
Her life was over before she had a chance to fathom it being taken… and, unfortunately for Howl, he could remember every detail of what he'd done clearly—the blood, the scream, and the palatable taste of her heart he had ripped out and ate in greediest of methods…
And now…
Howl was quivering. As he leaned against a nearby building with his palms pressed against the wall, scratching his nails unnaturally against the brown stone tiles, he tried to regain his rationality—noticing there was barely any there to sooth him. His head was sunk low and fresh tears were bucketing from his eyes while his shoulders shuddered and his brows involuntarily twitched inward. An occasional snivel could be heard over the fireworks while he tried his best to formulate a sensible justification for such an act of mercilessness…
He found none.
Howl had done the incogitable...
He'd eaten her heart.
But it can't be helped, he thought, smacking his right palm against the wall while he sucked in his bottom lip. I can't fight it… He felt like a helpless child, so vulnerable and petrified. Nothing would validate this moment—with taking yet another life…
He wasn't keen on leaving her to rot and waiting for someone to find her the next morning… but it wasn't wise to have someone find him standing so near to her corpse… It was best to leave, to run like he always did. So, he pushed himself off the brown wall and staggered down the street.
Fresh crimson dripped from his lips as he did this, and when he mopped the back of his hand over his mouth, it smeared on the lower part of his face. A horrific, haunting shock flooded around his puffy pink eyes, and as he ran his hand through his hair, he felt as if he were in need of another haircut.
What an odd thought to have at a time like this, he scolded himself, sniffling slightly.
His feet moved on his own as he slinked back to the nearest place he could hide out in his delirious state: Sophie's home. It took him approximately thirty minutes to get there, and another minute or two before he jumped onto her window ledge and easily pulled open the glass to find her dreaming under her sheets. The only part of her that could be seen was the back of her head—her long reddish-brown hair to be exact, and the rise and fall of her body under the blanket.
Perhaps the curse didn't work when she was asleep… She'd be an easy kill in her slumber…
For the life of him, Howl couldn't stop quivering, and as he inched over to her, he felt his eyes begin to water. His right hand lifted and he held his breath, hoping that Sophie's curse would protect her…
Come on, Sophie, he thought. Don't make me do this again…
Sure enough, that reddish-brown hair changed into a sparkling shade of grey and he sank to floor with a thud, collapsing into a horrified, yet relieved, heap as he took in ragged breaths.
The thump startled Sophie awake and she rolled over, shrieking when she opened her eyes to see Howl lying on the floor. "Howl, you—!" She paused, taking in his disorientated state as she rubbed at her hooded eyes. "H-Howl…?" She touched her throat once her ears picked up the low, hoarse pitch. I'm old again… He's thinking about…
Howl rotated so that she could no longer see his ashamed, bloodstained face. "I thought I told you to lock the window…" His voice sounded frail, like he'd been crying.
Brown eyes darted toward the opened glass before drifting back to the man lying on her wooden floor. He was curled into a ball, hugging himself with his back to her. "I thought I…" Oh, I must've forgotten… She knew from the look she'd seen in his eyes when she'd awoken that he didn't truly wish to be this way. "Howl…?"
He refused to answer her.
"Howl," she tried again.
"…What is it, Sophie?"
She peered down at her hands, watching the liver spots, wrinkles, and protruding blue veins disappear into soft flesh once more before she climbed out of bed. Small patters were heard as she rushed to her closet to fetch a large blue blanket. Once she retrieved it, she hurried over to Howl and placed it around him as she knelt, carefully touching his left arm afterwards. "I'm going to do everything I can to help you break this curse," she whispered. "I'm going to save us both, Howl. I promise." No one deserves to live like this. She peered over his shoulder to see that his glass-marble eyes were despondent and focused on nothing in particular.
He looked like a man who'd seen death a thousand times over, an accurate statement for one who'd stolen so many lives...
"I'm going to help you," she whispered again. "I'll break your curse." Or she'd die trying…
You say this when you can't even break your own curse… All Howl could force out was, "Lock the window, Sophie." Heaven forbid the Witch of Waste found them while they were sleeping.
He didn't spare her another glance as she went to achieve the task, nor did he speak when she assured, "I promise…"
Howl didn't know how long he stayed up brooding over the homicide he had committed on May Day, but during the rest of the night, his eyes refused to close after the first time he'd attempted to shut them. All I keep seeing is her face, he thought, pulling the blue blanket up to his chin like a child afraid of what lingered around in the dark. A chilling expression radiated within his blue eyes. Every face I've wronged… every heart I've taken…
Glass-marble blue eyes remained wide and appeared vacant... Some hours later, they hadn't shut, and paranoid ears twitched every so often, picking up on the small ticking sounds of the pocket watch on Sophie's nearby desk.
The longer Howl heard them, the more his eyes began to sting and his vision had become fogged in tears that just wouldn't fall. Trembling hands slithered up to cover his ears out of sheer psychosis. I—I can hear it… His eyes darted towards the desk in all their petrified glory. That sound…
In Howl's mind, each time the hand on the small pocket watch budged, he noticed the ticks beginning to mellow out into familiar rhythm… a peculiar, hastened thump. He knew the tempo that mocked him. It harmonized the beat of the girl's heart he'd just consumed.
The idea of his mind playing tricks on him caused his eyes to slowly drift back over to the previous spot along the wall, and he tapped his fingers against his head in time with the ticks. A defeated groan escaped him, and he knew that even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to make it back to his castle in the maddening condition he suddenly found himself in tonight…
This wasn't a normal drama fit for Howl to have—quite the opposite, and more along the borders of feeling utterly lost in an abysmal desolation of inner mayhem with no recollection of his own integrity. If he were having a normal fit, he would have summoned some shadows from the darkness and slumped around in his dismay for an hour or so…
Howl internally scoffed at the idea.
He wished he could be so lucky tonight…
By morning, the white in his eyes were blood shot, and he didn't bother to blink until the sunlight had begun to creep its way into Sophie's room, inching down on his face to alert him that he and Sophie had a long day ahead of them. He'd give her a clue about his curse. I'll show her Calcifer, he thought, sitting up. He'll be the biggest hint of all.
Howl gazed down at himself while he wrapped the blue blanket Sophie had given him around his shoulder, noticing speckles of bloodstains splatting his white tunic. Ah, last night… He didn't seem at all fazed. In fact, there was a chipper aura surrounding him, the same one that had been lingering when he arrived in Market Chipping yesterday.
He simply enveloped himself in the blanket and yawned, trudging over to the desk. When his ears picked up on the sound of the pocket watch, he smiled. No heartbeats… His grin widened. None at all… He nearly cackled in delight, but a sharp knock startled him, causing him to jump and nearly trip over the chair as his eyes flickered to the right—towards the door.
"Sophie!" her stepmother called on the other side. Howl peered down at the bed to see that Sophie was still sound asleep, lying on her stomach with her head turned to the left and her arms splayed out around her. Her light breathing caused him to tilt his head… She truly looked at peace.
Howl felt a twinge of jealousy at the blissful sight. She certainly looks like she slept well. He couldn't say the same for himself.
Her stepmother gave the door three more urgent knocks. "Sophie, dear! There's a woman in the shop asking for your assistance!"
When Howl saw the knob jiggle, he rushed over to the door and he managed to close it just in time before the woman had completely pushed it in. I don't have time to come up with a good enough disguise if she enters... unless I put Sophie under the bed… He grinned at the thought, but opted that it wasn't the wisest thing to do, in case the girl woke up screaming from finding herself in a compromising position.
"Sophie!" her stepmother called again. "Are you all right in there?!"
Howl shrugged, smirking as he forced out a strangled—mind you, terribly inaccurate—version of Sophie's feminine, dulcet voice. "Oh, no! I'm terribly ill today!" he shouted, sounding two octaves higher than what he was used to. When the knob jiggled once more, Howl said, "Don't come in! I don't want you to catch anything!" For emphasis, he feigned a cough. "Just go on!" It sounded pathetic to his ears, and he couldn't remember the last time he made a proper disguise, or a voice to match. It had been far too long, and during his apprenticeship, Howl was the paragon for what a brilliant wizard should be, but... he supposed that he was bound to forget basics that he hadn't used in a while. They weren't the same practices he was teaching Markl now, quite different...
Nonetheless, the guise had fooled Sophie's stepmother.
"Oh!" she said, sounding startled. "Sophie, you sound ghastly—almost like some hoarse man!"
Howl rolled his eyes. If only you knew…
"Well," she said on the other side. "I'll be sure to tell the woman you can't be seen today." As Howl peered down, he saw the shadow of her footsteps before they retreated. "And she specifically requested you…"
When he heard this, Howl's eyes widened. "Wait!" As he cracked the door open by a mere smidge, and pressed part of his lips against the frame, he quickly said, "Tell me. Did this woman appear… larger than our average customers?" He was still using his best impersonation of Sophie's voice he could muster, and he was doing all that he could to prevent himself from chortling at the idea of the customer waiting in the hat shop.
"In what way?" the woman asked. As Howl shut the door to hide his face as she re-approached, she asked, "Do you mean large in wealth or…" She cleared her throat by producing an uncomfortable cough. "Stature?"
With mirth in his voice, Howl replied, "Both."
"Yes, I… I suppose," the woman replied, absently. "Do you know her, Sophie?"
"…Can you stall her for as long as you can?" Howl asked instead. "I'll be down shortly."
"But you just said you were—"
"Much better now," Howl assured her. He lifted his index finger, adding, "And I'll need you all to remain as polite as possible when speaking to the witch—woman!" He gave a light cough, finishing with, "Overtly so..." She can be a bothersome hand full.
"Why's that?"
Delighted crinkles formed around his amused eyes. Because you don't want her targeting you like she is Sophie because of me. "I wouldn't keep her waiting." She was rather indefatigable.
The silence that ensued caused Howl to cover his mouth, suppressing a scoff.
"...If you say so," she agreed before walking off.
When Howl was sure the woman had left he turned, plopping his back against the door in a slump. "Goodness..." As he peered up at the ceiling, he shook his head and rubbed his face in exasperation at the thought of the vile woman, allowing the blanket to fall to the floor. "I at least have to applaud her persistence," he admitted with a sigh, sounding irate. Once the wizard had gotten over his shock, his eyes drifted towards Sophie's sleeping frame.
"Sophie," he whispered, walking towards her. "Sophie, you've got to get up." That devil of a woman's parading around in your hat shop! He knew she wasn't there to purchase anything. It was time to do what he did best: run away.
"Sophie," he tried again. He came around the left side of the bed, and the mattress dipped as he shifted his weight onto one knee and reached for her. When he forcefully nudged her awake, he was quick to clasp his right hand over her mouth before she could scream. During this, Sophie had sat up wildly, and he had grabbed her right arm with his free hand when she tried to strike him. Her braid flung around so much during her frantic, struggling movements—meaning her flailing leg movements and her attempts to claw at him—that it came undone in her fight to free herself from her attacker.
"Sophie," he said in an jaded tone, taking in her wide eyes as she froze. "It's just me."
"Ow?" was her muffled reply of his name.
His hand fell to his side as he seated himself beside her, chuckling lightly at her endearing display. "Sleep well?"
A frown tugged at her lips while her brown eyes scrutinized him. She tucked her hair behind her ears, noticing the blood on his clothes and mouth from last night and the tips of her fingers on her right palm touched her bottom lip in distress. "Oh, you look awful, Howl."
I suppose, there's a first time for everything… He grimaced, never wanting to hear that statement again, and as soon as he returned to his castle, he was going to waste no time in locking himself in his bathroom for hours on end and fixing all the work he managed to ruin yesterday. "Your face is going to match mine once I tell you about the customer invading your hat shop." The woman was known for her macabre behavior as much as Howl was, after all...
Her brow slowly arched as he waited for her to speak. "Who is it?"
In a juvenile manner, he found himself grinning once more, and he eagerly said, "Guess." Excitement was dancing in his eyes; it matched his tone perfectly. "Go on. It's someone that apparently knows you well enough to pay you a visit." And more importantly, she knows me...
Sophie found herself blinking while Howl flashed her one of his brilliant smiles. He seemed highly jocular this morning, a contrast to the utter anguish visible on his expression last night. "Is it one of my sisters?"
Howl didn't know she even had siblings to begin with. He'd just met the girl yesterday and he knew she was possibly his only hope to helping him in his predicament. "What?" He nearly pouted. She's no good at games, I see... His arms crossed in disappointment. "No, Sophie," he said, lifting a shoulder. "It's the Witch of the Waste."
The casualness in his statement was what spooked Sophie the most.
…
A/N: I'm trying to find the best way to portray Howl as murderer who doesn't want to kill but still have qualities that make him... him. I also want to emphasize that the curse is a weighty feeling (or burden) to carry, like a heart to be exact. ;) The next chapter is faster paced than these last two were, and there will be castle scenes. I thought the pacing needed to be slower for this one to crescendo into the movement of the next one. I know Howl's and Sophie's curses aren't entirely explained here, but the gist of it is. Technicalities will be explained as the fic progresses but I think everything ties into canon fairly well once the rest is put out.
Editing this was a nightmare! You're welcome to leave a review and give feedback. :)
Replies to guest reviews:
Dandelion Floof: I like slow romances myself. It's nearly all I write in my fanfics so no worries there. ;) Also, thanks for the advice! I went back and added a little more description for one scene (and I'm going back to add more to others) but if you'd be so kind as to tell me which ones you think are a little barren and need to be fleshed out? That'd be great! And for the life of me, I can't seem to find a balance of writing out facial expressions—showing them vs telling them. My professor for my creative writing class says I need to find a balance of both but I'm not entirely sure I know how to do that just yet. Does this chapter look better in terms of that? I feel like I'm dumping a lot on you right now lol so I'm sorry if I am and if it's too much trouble you don't have to. Thanks for taking the time to review by the way! :) Helped a lot with writing out this chapter.
James Birdsong: Thanks! Feel free to let me know if something seems off or ya know, whatever else you think of the fic. :)