It was very dark that night. So dark that as Alastor was carrying the firewood back to the camp, he had to take very careful steps. He was used to nights such as these, they were fairly common in the forest he lived in. He had learned to rely on sound and touch on nights such as these. Though he hoped that Angel and Vaggie wouldn't have any trouble finding their way back to camp.
By the time he made it back, the fire had been snuffed out but before he could sit down to start a new one, the night air was suddenly pierced by a bloody scream.
"Oh God no! No please! Not again!"
The scream was coming from inside the shelter he had built earlier and Alastor recognized that the scream belonged to Charlie. He instantly dropped the firewood and ran inside the shelter. He couldn't see a thing but as I mentioned earlier, he had learned to rely on sound and touch when his eyes could not be useful at the moment.
"Charlie what's wrong?" He called.
"Let me out! You can't leave me in here again! You just can't! Please! Oh please let me out!"
His arms and hands searched for her, his ears picked up the sound of fabric crinkling. At last he felt her arms and he felt that her body was tossing in turning. She was asleep and having a nightmare. He grabbed hold of her.
"Charlie wake up!"
She fought against him.
"No! You can't keep me here! I'll die if I have to stay here again!"
"Charlie wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" He shouted as loud as he could and gave her a good shake. Finally the princess jolted awake.
"Where am I?!"
"Calm down." Alastor said.
"Who is that?! Daddy?! Oh Daddy please don't lock me up again! I beg you!"
"Charlie it's me. Alastor."
"Alastor?" Her hands went up to his face and she felt for familiar features. "It is you."
Overcome by emotion, she threw herself into his arms and clung to him. She began to cry.
"Oh Alastor it was so awful! I dreamnt that my father was alive but he had come back as some horrible, unfeeling tyrant and he had locked me right back in that tower! He told me that this time I'd never get out!"
"It was a nightmare." Alastor whispered softly, holding her tight. "It's alright. You're safe now."
"I can't ever go back there! I just can't!"
"And you won't. I won't let that happen. I promise."
As he held her in his arms and listened to her voice, he could not help but feel great anger and disgust toward Charlie's father. How could he do something like this to his own daughter? What kind of a father would lock their child away in a tower and leave them there for God knows how long? Why if this devil of a parent wasn't already dead, Alastor would have killed him himself.
That's probably the one thing Alastor hated more than being hated by others. Parents who were cruel to their children. He had been so loved by his own mother, that the very idea of any parent not loving their child the way his loved him, made him ill with rage.
"Here, why don't I start a fire and let some light in." He suggested.
"No!" She screamed. "No light! I don't want you to see me!"
"Why not?"
"I'm...I'm...I'm in my undergarments! I sleep in them!"
Alastor blushed.
"Okay. Why don't you get dressed then?"
"I can't! I washed my clothes in the river and left them to dry overnight. Just let it stay dark. Please."
"Very well. Do you want me to leave?"
"Not yet. Not until Vaggie comes back. Please?"
"Alright then. How about a story? When I was little and I woke up from a bad dream, my mother would tell me a story to get the image out of my mind."
"I'd like a story."
"I have one about myself. It was about five years ago in the middle of Winter, I was hunting on my land when I heard someone crying. I found a small boy who had lost his way while playing in the snow. I didn't think it was a good idea to approach him. I thought he'd scream and alert some adults, one look at me and they would all assume that I'd hurt him. But then I heard him cry out for his mommy and I couldn't help but think of myself when I lost my mother."
"So you helped him?"
"I slowly made my presence known. He was startled but he didn't scream. In fact he couldn't speak at all. I quietly and carefully explained that if he had something from his house, I could sniff it and track it down. He still said nothing but he let me smell his mother's locket. I picked up the scent of the house in no time, during the walk back the boy could finally bring himself to speak and he thought I was some good spirit of the forest that his grandfather had told him stories about."
Charlie giggled.
"When we reached his house, his parents weren't there. They had gone out looking for him. But his grandfather was home."
"What did he do when he saw you?"
"He didn't see me. He was blind. He was grateful to me for bringing back his grandson. He invited me inside and to get warm by the fireplace. I was very hesitant to accept the invitation and he could sense that. He asked me why and I told him it was because I was different. That people were afraid of me. He called me a poor man and told me that there was no shame in being different. For a moment I thought maybe this meant that things could change. That maybe I could be apart of the world instead of hiding. But then the parents came home, they saw me, they screamed, they called me a monster, and they hit me and pelted me with rocks until I left. The boy and his grandfather spoke up on my behalf but their pleas fell to deaf ears."
"Oh Alastor I'm so sorry."
"I learned a very important lesson that day. No matter how much good I could do, no matter how much kindness I could show, I would still be nothing but a monster."
"That's not true. Angel doesn't think you're a monster, Vaggie doesn't think you're a monster, and I don't think you're a monster, and it's because you're not."
"Everyone else in the world says different."
"That doesn't mean it's true."
"If you want me to be perfectly honest dear, I don't like being a monster. I don't like being the bad guy. I wanted to be good. The world just won't let me."
"Maybe we just need to try a little harder to make your goodness evident."
"What does that mean?"
"Well on the map I saw two routes that lead to the Fourth Kingdom. One that continues through the woods and one that passes through a small town. Why don't we take the route through the town?"
"Why?"
"Because if the folks there see you just causally walking around, they could see that you're not really much of a threat."
"Or they could start an angry mob and run me out of town."
"I know you're scared but you can't keep hiding from everything that makes you sad or angry or scared. You can't hide from the world. If you do, how will you ever really be happy? And you won't be alone. We'll be right with you the entire time."
"Do we have to do this?"
"We're running low on supplies. We need to get more from somewhere."
Alastor huffed.
"Okay I'll do it. But the first time we see someone scream at me, we leave."
"How about the first time we see someone pull out a weapon?"
"Deal."
They shook on it, then it was at that moment Alastor noticed that Charlie's hands and arms were quite velvety. He felt hair on her flesh, a lot of hair.
"What are you doing?" Charlie asked, feeling him slowly rub her arms.
"Charlie, were your arms always this hairy?"
Charlie immediately jerked away from him.
"Humans have hair on their arms." She answered.
"I didn't think they had that much. Almost feels like fur."
"I...I...I have a rare hair growth disorder. I have to shave my arms everyday. Always have, since I was a child."
He felt her arms again.
"That's odd. Normally when one shaves over a long period of time, the hair grows back rather coarse, like my hair. But yours is very fine. As if it's never been cut."
"Stop touching me! I'm not properly dressed!"
"Sorry!"
He removed his hands at once. The two of them just sat in silent darkness, waiting for Angel and Vaggie to return. During the wait, Alastor started to recall a few other things he had felt that seemed unusual. He thought he felt something fluffy behind her when he held her and when he stroked her hair to soothe her, he thought he felt fuzz and velvet on her ears.
"Must've been my mind playing tricks again." He thought. "That happens when I go too long in the dark."
Little did he know that it was no trick of the mind, nor did Charlie have a rare hair growth disorder. But rest assured, we shall touch upon that later.